Guiding the Fall

by Christy Hayes

  He drove to Erica’s house thinking the sound of his approach would alert her to his presence and calm her nervous jitters. She wouldn’t be happy to see him. He knew enough about her to realize she didn’t like surprises, but he was counting on the element of surprise to find out more than she’d been willing to tell. Her front door was open, and he saw her standing behind the screen wearing jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a scowl on her too appealing face when he got out of his car and walked to her porch.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in her default, unfriendly tone.

  “I saw your lights on,” he fibbed. No way would he confess that Jack sent him over. “Thought you’d want some company.”

  “I don’t. I have the place to myself…” A line formed between those bold brows. “You knew that, didn’t you? Olivia and Jack are at your place.” She lifted her hands to her hips. “Are you checking on me?”

  “No. I finished a project at the cabin and didn’t feel like being alone. I thought maybe you felt the same.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  Why was it whenever she basically told him to go to hell, every nerve ending in his body came alive? “So take pity on me anyway. I’m starving. I know you have food.”

  “You came to check on me and to get fed.” She shook her head. “You’re not even going to try to smooth talk your way in? I’m not worth the effort?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me, anyway. Come on, Erica. Let me in. I can smell something cooking.”

  “There’s not enough.”

  “You cook enough for an army.” He held up the bottle of wine and pasted on his sweetest smile. “I brought wine.”

  She cocked her hip. “You brought a bribe and you wasted your money. I don’t drink.”

  “I didn’t waste any money. I borrowed it from mom.”

  “You’ve got smooth moves, you know that, Woodward?”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “You know my last name, too. If you let me in, we can tell each other our middle names.”

  “I don’t care what your middle name is.”

  “You will when we’re trying to name our first born.”

  When her hands slid from her hips and her jaw dropped open, he took advantage and opened the door, wedging past her. He had his coat off and tossed over the chair before she regained her composure. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  He walked into the kitchen and stirred the vegetables and sauce on the stove. “Sure you did. If you really wanted me gone, you’d have shut the door in my face. You were just delaying the inevitable.”

  “Don’t make me throw you out.”

  “You won’t even know I’m here. You’ve got enough food to feed us both. I brought my laptop, so I won’t disturb whatever you were doing.”

  “Take your laptop and go home.”

  “You know I can’t. Your brother and my roommate are…well, you know what they’re doing. Besides, you’ve got something here I can’t get at home.” When her dark eyes turned wary, he knew she thought he meant her. He did, but telling her that wouldn’t get him anywhere but shown to the door. “You’ve got electricity. My laptop’s almost dead.”

  “Your mom’s got power. She gave birth to you so I imagine she’d be happy to see you.”

  “She’s not home, hence my stealing the wine.”

  “Hence?” Erica repeated. “Can’t you talk like a normal person?”

  “Can’t you be hospitable like a normal person?” He lifted the spoon and had a taste. “Ummm. Is this done?”

  She shooed him away from the stove. “Yes, and so is the rice. If I feed you will you, leave?”

  Thank God. He was running out of tactics to try. “Eventually.”

  She scowled but pulled two bowls from the cupboard and filled them with food. She set a healthy portion on the table and turned around to get an already prepared salad from the refrigerator. “I’ve got water unless you want to open the wine.”

  “The wine was for you. I’d love a beer if you have any.”

  “You can have one of Jack’s.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He opened drawers looking for a bottle opener, but she swatted him away from her very organized kitchen and handed him a pink pig magnet opener from the side of the refrigerator. “Cute.”

  After he got his beer, he sat at the table. Before he could reach for the salad bowl, she scooped some onto his plate. “You don’t have to serve me,” Lyle said.

  “Sorry. I’m used to serving Jack.”

  “I don’t mind. Even my mom makes me fend for myself.”

  “Since you steal her things, I’m not surprised.”

  “I don’t usually steal.” He took a heaping bite. “Wow, that’s hot. And delicious. What is this?”

  “Just something I threw together.”

  He stirred it to let the heat escape. “So, how was today’s lesson?”

  Erica’s head jerked up, her eyes panicked. “What lesson?”

  “Olivia’s cooking lesson,” Lyle said slowly. “What did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing. It went fine. She’s…not very comfortable in the kitchen.”

  “Was Jack here? She was probably all keyed up about their ‘date.’”

  “You don’t like them seeing each other?” she asked.

  Lyle shrugged and tried another bite. The temperature had cooled infinitesimally. “I don’t care what they do. Olivia’s happy. She talked my ear off last night and practically danced around the apartment when we got home.”

  “Jack doesn’t say much, but he likes her.”

  “You don’t?”

  She mimicked his shrug. “He could do worse.”

  Coming from Erica, that was practically an endorsement. “She’s growing on you. She grew on me, too. We weren’t really friends before I moved in.”

  “You weren’t? I thought you grew up together.”

  “We did, sort of. She was Jill’s friend, so I saw her a lot, but we usually irritated each other. I thought she was spoiled because her dad had a lot of money and he bought her whatever she wanted. I used to think she tried to be the center of attention, but now I think she was just the center of attention because she was pretty and everybody liked her and wanted to be her friend.” He took a sip of beer. “She thought I was annoying. I don’t know. You’d have to ask her what she thought of me. It wasn’t good.” He took a bite and decided it was as good a time as any to dive into his own questions. “What were you like as a child?”

  “Me?” She sipped the last of her water. “I was quiet, I guess. I didn’t have many friends. We moved around a lot because my dad kept losing his job and we’d get thrown out when he couldn’t pay the rent.”

  “That must have been scary.”

  She shrugged as if she hadn’t just admitted she’d lived like a nomad. No wonder she liked everything in her life just so. “I was a kid. Sometimes I’d want to move when the kids weren’t very nice at school. Sometimes I didn’t.” She sent him a sharp look. “I don’t want your pity. It was just the way it was.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it. As long as you don’t blame yourself.”

  “Blame myself? I couldn’t do anything about it. I got a job when I was old enough, helped out as much as I could, but he started missing more and more work.”

  “What kind of jobs did you do?” he asked.

  “I cleaned houses and a couple of local businesses.” Her eyes bore into his. “It was honest work.”

  “Never said otherwise. When did your dad die?”

  “When I was eighteen. He died with a smile on his face, like he could see my mother and was happy to finally be with her again.”

  “That’s a nice thought.”

  “Have you ever watched someone die?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “There’s nothing nice about it.” She stood up. “You want another beer?”

  He looked at his bottle. Somewhere between imagining her living in one dumpy apartment after another and watching
her dad drink himself to death, he’d lost his taste for alcohol. “No, I’m still working on this.”

  “Doesn’t have to be work.” Erica refilled her glass and sat, pushing her food around the plate instead of eating.

  “You don’t like it?” he asked.

  She nodded and took a small bite. “It’s fine.”

  “I’d say it’s better than fine.” But her walk down memory lane had changed her mood. She seemed distant and withdrawn. He preferred her fire to the hollow shell she’d retreated into. He decided to change course. “So, since we’re kind of seeing each other, I thought—”

  As expected, her head whipped up and her eyes narrowed. “Since when?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t go around kissing women I’m not seeing. I saw you last night. I’m seeing you tonight. We’re having dinner, so this kind of counts as a date. We kiss and we date, so we’re technically seeing each other.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone. You keep kissing me. You pushed your way inside tonight.”

  “You kiss me back. You can twist things around however you want, but you always kiss me back. Are you kissing other people?”

  “No.”

  “Are you having dinner and getting ice cream with other people?”

  She dropped her fork. “No.”

  “Do you want to kiss and have dinner with other people?” he asked. “Besides me?”

  “I don’t want to kiss or have dinner with you!” She pushed back from the table and paced into the kitchen.

  Lyle kept his voice calm. “You know as well as I do that if you didn’t want me here, you’d have never let me in. If you hadn’t wanted to kiss me, I’d have never known how soft your lips are or how sweet you taste.”

  “You don’t know what I want. You’ve had your meal and made your point. You can go now.”

  He stood up and feared he’d overplayed his hand. He walked into the kitchen and hoped she wasn’t holding a knife. “I’ll leave whenever you ask, but I want you to be honest with yourself and with me. Are you asking me to leave because you want me gone or because you’re scared?”

  She spun around. Lyle was grateful her hands were empty. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Good. Because you don’t have to be afraid of me, Erica. I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  “I don’t want you to keep stirring me up the way you do. It’s confusing.”

  “In what way?” He took a tentative step in her direction.

  “In every way. You talk funny. You make me do things I don’t want to do, like having dinner with you and kissing you.”

  “Is it so bad? Having dinner with me and kissing me?”

  “I don’t know why you want to do those things. Isn’t there anyone else you’d rather have dinner with or kiss?”

  “No. Not now and, when I stop and think about it, not really ever as much as this. As much as you.”

  Everything that had come to life when he’d ignited her temper drained right off her face. “I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “What about Jill?”

  The question had him jolting back. “What about Jill?”

  “I know you liked her.”

  “Yes, I did. I still do. We’re friends.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Jill’s marr—she’s getting married.”

  “That doesn’t matter. My father drank himself to death over a dead woman. Being married doesn’t change anything for your heart.”

  “Your father chose to mourn your mother forever. I’m not mourning Jill. In a few weeks, we’re going to gather together and celebrate that she’s found someone to love who loves her back. They’re starting a life together, and I’m happy for her. What she has, what she and Tyler have together, that’s what I want.”

  “You’re younger than me and you’re thinking about getting married?”

  “I don’t want to be married just to be married. I want someone to love, someone to share my life. When I think about the future, I don’t know what’s ahead, but I know I don’t want to be alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” she said and folded her hands over her chest. “I have Jack.”

  “Yes, you have your brother. You do a good job taking care of him just like you did a good job taking care of your father.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Maybe. But who takes care of you, Erica? Who has ever taken care of you?”

  Erica frowned almost comically. “Jack does. We take care of each other.”

  Poor girl, Lyle thought. She never considered the ways a man takes care of a woman. He felt a powerful need to make her want that, to make her feel important enough to want it. “But what if he falls in love and gets married? What will you do then?”

  “I can take care of myself.” Erica snorted. “Can you honestly see my brother getting married?”

  “I get the feeling he never considered it before he lost his vision. Now? I’m not sure.”

  “You think he’s going to fall in love with Olivia? That won’t happen.”

  “I don’t really care if it does or not. I don’t want to talk about your brother or Olivia. I want to know why you won’t admit you like me.”

  “Your ego’s big enough.”

  “So you do like me?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you didn’t say otherwise.” He leaned closer. “Come on, Erica. This time, you kiss me.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Then why do you look like that?”

  “Like what?” she asked with her head turned and her eyes as soft as a doe.

  “Your eyes, they’re…soft. Your eyelids are heavy like you’re having trouble keeping them open.” She comically held them wide, but he continued. “You’ve got these flecks of copper in your eyes, but I can only see them when I’m close.” He stepped into her so their chests brushed. “And your lips. When I look at them, they open for me. Like you’re asking me a question you can’t quite form with words.” When she swallowed and licked her lips, he nearly groaned. “I can feel your heart pounding, Erica. And there’s this vein in your neck…” He brushed his finger from her jaw to collarbone, and she closed her eyes. “It’s throbbing. Your breath is coming faster. Why can’t you tell me with words what your body tells me every time we’re together?”

  “I don’t have your way with words.”

  “They’re simple words. Say my name,” he asked.

  “Lyle.” It came out on a whisper that frayed the ends of his nerves.

  “Tell me what you want, Erica. Tell me.”

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  “Use my name.”

  “Kiss me, Lyle. I want you to kiss me.”

  He brushed his lips over hers so softly, so briefly, she whimpered for more. “That wasn’t so bad.” He took a calculated risk and inched away when everything in him screamed to lean in and take her, lead her, control her. Her eyes widened, her breath huffed out, and she reached for him. She brought him back and ruled him with her lips, gliding her tongue inside his mouth, answering every one of his questions with a demand of her own. He was all too happy to comply.

  There was so much passion in her, so much fire. When she let it go, when she let him in, he felt the flames lick at his skin, igniting his own barely banked embers. Even as he gloried in her warmth, he worried they’d burn one another to the ground if he didn’t keep himself under control. Like a wild horse penned too long, bucking and grunting at the first whiff of freedom, Lyle needed to rein her in before she brought them both down in her haste. It took everything in him to pull back, loosen his grip on her hair, and gentle his kiss while she continued to assault his mouth, Her hands on his back, under his shirt, seared his skin.

  Their breath mingled as they stared at one another, unable to focus through the smoke. “I...” She pushed the hair out of her face and swallowed.

&nbs
p; Lyle stared at her mouth and wished with everything in him that he could finish what they’d started. She was alone and more than willing. Pulling back was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. But he knew taking her then would be a mistake. A few hours of pleasure would destroy the tiny foundation of trust he’d worked hard to establish.

  “Erica, are we seeing each other?”

  “What?”

  It didn’t hurt his ego that she couldn’t focus. “Are you ready to admit we’re seeing each other?”

  The line was back between her brows. “Is that what this was about? Proving a point?”

  “No. I think we’ve burned the point to the ground. But what I want with you is more than a few hours of fun.”

  She pushed at his chest, but he didn’t back up. If she thought he’d let her storm away, she was wrong. “You want an awful lot.”

  “I’m willing to wait. We both know I could have you right now. When we make love, it’s not going to be when I have to beg you.”

  “What do you want from me, Lyle?”

  “I want to take you out to dinner. I want to hold your hand. In public. I want you to trust me enough to let me in.” He tapped his finger to her temple. “Not just your body, but that fascinating mind.” And to her chest where her nipple stood at attention. “And your heart.”

  She stared at him, her chin in the air. “Is this about the book? Are you using me to get information about Jack for the book?”

  That time he did step back, but instead of walking away, she stood with her shoulders slumped and a contrite expression. He raised his hands in the air. “You got me. I weaseled my way in here, dodged every one of the knives you threw at my throat, kissed you until I’m about to burst from wanting you, and all for a couple of background chapters in a book that may or may not sell. There’re a lot of things I’d do to help my career, but you’re not one of them. Thanks for thinking so highly of me.”

  He turned around and grabbed his coat. “I’ll have your brother back tomorrow.”