Lena shot back up, a sheet pan in her hands, her eyes wide, embarrassed. “How long have you been standing there?” she asked, putting the pan down, pulling right back inside herself.
“Oh, somewhere around the first 'and I'm free',” he said, smiling at her.
Lena's closed her eyes, bringing a hand up and rubbing her her forehead. “Well that's embarrassing.”
Eric pushed off the door frame and moved in to the kitchen, shaking his head. “No. It was sexy as hell,” he countered.
“Oh, god. No. Don't,” she said, a strange, awkward smile on her face.
“Come here,” he said, resting his hands against the counter behind him.
Lena looked over at him, shaking her head. Nope. No. That would be a very bad idea. But then he crooked a finger at her and she couldn't seem to stop herself from going to him.
Eric's hands went out, sitting on her hips, but keeping her several inches from his body. He waited a moment for her hazel eyes to find his before he spoke. “Lena,” he said, his voice patient, almost lecturing. “you are incredibly sexy whether you want to admit that or not.” Her eyes rolled, but she smiled and he let go of her hips. “So are you making me dinner?”
Lena's eyes got comically wide as she turned around and saw the pasta and sauce on the counter. That was supposed to be the plan. She had totally meant to boil water and make spaghetti for dinner. It was the least she could do. But then she had gotten distracted by all of the baking supplies. All the cool recipes she had been dying to try.
“What's the matter?”
“I forgot,” she said, her voice sounding apologetic. “I meant to cook spaghetti,” she said, turning to him, biting her lip. “I'm sorry.”
Eric's brows drew together, confused. “Why are you sorry? I wasn't expecting you to cook for me, Lena. But... what are you making then?”
“I'm baking,” Lena declared, her eyes brightening up, looking almost completely green.
Eric smiled, a big almost goofy smile. “Well, I can have desserts for dinner. I'm all grown up now,” he said. “no one can tell me no.”
Lena's face broke into a happy smile. “Great,” she said, excited.
“So what are you baking?”
“Oh,” she said, moving over to the oven. “well, first I made apple turnovers,” she said, pulling them out of the oven. “I still have to ice them but they're cooked.”
Eric walked up behind her, looking over her shoulder. “Don't tell Annabelle,” he said, reaching up and tugging on her ponytail. “there would be none left.” He moved away, going to the sink and scrubbing at his hands. “What else?”
“Chocolate java cake and praline apple bread. Oh, and chocolate chip cookies but you cant have those.”
“Why not?”
“They're for your brother's store. The ones he had the last time I was in there were sad.”
“You know you don't have to... bribe him. He's not the gossiping kind. He stays out of the town business.”
Lena shrugged. It had sort-of been her plan. She was having a really hard time accepting that some of the people in town were looking at her differently. Especially Liam. “I know... I just...” she struggled to find the words, Eric wiping his hands on a towel and watching her. “I don't want him to think badly of me I guess.”
“Awe baby,” Eric said,shaking his head. “he doesn't. I promise.”
Lena turned back to her apple turnovers, pouring the icing into a plastic bag and snipping off the tip so she could drip it across the tops. “Regardless...” she said. “will you please bring him the cookies after dinner?”
“Why don't you...”
“No,” she said quickly, the word panicked. “No. I'm not leaving the apartment again,” she said firmly. “So please...”
“I'll drop them,” he agreed quickly. “I'm gonna go jump in the shower before everything finishes,” he said and sauntered off toward the bathroom. Once inside, she heard him chuckle and remembered all of her clothes strung up on the shower curtain rod. The door clicked open and Eric called, his voice amused, “What would you like me to do with all of these panties?”
Lena put her hands over her eyes. “Oh, god,” she groaned to herself.
She could practically hear the enjoyment in Eric's voice. “I'll hang them back up when I'm done. You know... there's a washing machine downstairs in the office.”
“Yeah 'cause that makes total sense,” Lena called back.
She tried to focus on baking. But she kept thinking about the water running in the other room. About Eric naked under the stream. About walking right in there, stripping of her clothes, and joining him.
As much as she had tried to bury the feeling, she was still reeling from that afternoon. His hands driving her crazy then the abrupt end, leaving her frustrated and antsy. Leaving her with all kinds of sexy fantasies rolling around her head.
Eric came out from his shower, black sweatpants slung low on his hips and a tight white t-shirt, clinging in places where he hadn't completely dried underneath. His hair was wet, making a strand fall charmingly over his forehead. He came out, put a pot of coffee on, and went over to the living room, propping his feet on the coffee table and watching her.
“Really?” she asked, raising a brow at him. “You're going to stare at me while I bake?”
“Well I don't want to miss out on any more dance numbers.”
“Shut up,” she laughed, picking up a walnut and throwing it at him.
He picked it up and put it in his mouth, winking at her. “You need any help?”
“Oh,” she said, furrowing her brow. He was offering to help her bake? For some reason, the idea made her almost want to laugh. “Um. No I don't need any help. But if you want something to do... you could start putting these ingredients,” she said, holding up a piece of scrap paper with her handwriting on it. “into a bowl.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, unfolding himself from the couch and moving into the kitchen.
They worked side by side for a few minutes, music throbbing from the stereo as they concentrated on their own individual tasks. Then the music took an unexpected turn into a slow song. Sensual and thrumming. Eric put his spoon down, moving toward her and turning her around.
“What are you doing?” she asked, wiping flour off of her hands.
“Dancing with you,” he said, putting one hand on her lower back and taking the other in his hand.
“This is silly,” she objected, feeling herself pressed up against his strong chest.
“Yep,” he agreed, moving her around the kitchen. “Not everything has to be practical, you know,” he said close to her ear. “some things are just for fun.”
He leaned her backward,her ponytail brushing the floor, her back arching, Eric's arm supporting her lower back, her hips pushing into his. He swayed her back and forth once, bringing a hand up to her neck and moving it down her body, pressing hard between her breasts and over her belly.
He pulled her back up slowly, inch by inch, her body pressing back against his. Lena felt breathless and heavy at once, acutely aware of each inch of their bodies touching. She pushed herself against him, burying her face in his neck, breathing in the body wash, the scent clinging to his skin like a secret they both shared.
The music slowly faded out, replaced quickly by a commercial and Lena pulled away, turning back to her bowl of cookie mix, putting her hand on the counter to steady herself.
Behind her, Eric drew in one long breath, she could almost feel the tension coming off his body. At least she wasn't the only one who was affected every time they touched. He seemed to be struggling more and more each time they got into close contact.
“Alright,” he sighed, going back to his recipe. “back to work,” he said, not looking at her.
They finished late, working side by side in complete silence which got more strained and uncomfortable by the moment. A world of words left unsaid between them. Lena carefully placed the baked go
ods on two plates, pouring cups of coffee while Eric put a slow, soft indie record on and went to sit on the couch, tapping the empty space next to him.
She brought the coffee over, feeling tense as she made the trip back with the desserts. It felt too intimate. Too close.
“You're telling me this,” he said, pointing to the chocolate cake. “is filled with liquid chocolate?”
Lena reached for her apple turnover, pulling a corner off and putting it in her mouth. “Right,” she said, chewing.
Eric turned to the cake, sinking a spoon into it, watching the insides melt out before taking a piece and trying it. He closed his eyes, groaning. “God, woman, where have you been all my life?”
“Good?” she asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and watching her face fall into a frown. “It's amazing. Where did you learn to bake like this?”
Lena shrugged a shoulder. “I taught myself. I used to come across these recipes in my mom's magazines and I would try them.”
“You should have gone to culinary school,” he said, reaching for the apple praline bread.
“I wanted to,” she admitted with a shrug.
“Then why didn't you?”
Lena shook her head. “It wasn't a smart choice,” she said, her voice regretful. “there isn't usually stability in that kind of career. So I chose something more practical to get me out of... the life I grew up in,” she said carefully.
Eric watched her, the hair falling out of her ponytail and hiding some of her face. “Do you regret it?”
Lena turned slightly toward him. “Sometimes.”
“Like when?”
“Like every time I bake,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And every time I have a really bad day at work.”
“So, knowing Elliott,” Eric said. “pretty much every day.”
“No,” she said too eagerly. Defensively. “No,” she added more carefully. “I really don't hate my job. It's rewarding to accomplish that much every day. To see how much I can push past the perceived limits. And Elliott isn't that bad to work for. He only demands as much of us as he demands of himself. He's actually softened a lot since...”
“Since he met Hannah,” Eric filled in, his face looking confused. “I don't see how that could be. She was always a bit of a pain in the ass growing up. Bossy and haughty.”
Lena laughed. “She still is, but she's also a good person. She gave me a lot of tips when I started since I was taking over her old job.”
“Why did she give it up?”
Lena smiled. “She said if she had to fetch his coffee anymore without getting a 'thank you' she was going to kill him.”
“So what is it that makes you get up and go to work every morning if you don't love it? Is it just the money?”
“Yeah,” Lena said, feeling suddenly materialistic. “I dunno. I promised myself that I would make a better life than the one I came from. So I guess that's more what gets me out of bed. The stability. Essentially the money in some ways I guess.”
“Did you ever consider that maybe a better life could be had by doing something you really enjoy? Maybe you won't be rich. Maybe you'd only ever made a modest living. But you'd be happy.”
Lena looked at him for a second, her eyes almost hopeful before she shook her head. “Well...” she said, sounding sad. “it's too late for that now. This is the path I chose.” The silence fell again, strained. “So do you actually love cars or do you just do it because it's what you know?”
Eric sipped his coffee, looking off into the kitchen. “I guess it's for a lot of reasons. My father taught it to me, his father to him, and so on and so forth.”
“You wanted to carry on the tradition?”
“In part, yeah. And when our father died, I needed to be able to take care of Liam. This was the only thing I was trained to do. And... I mean... it also serves the town. A place like this with no mechanic would be awful. Everyone would have to tow out. Not to mention... there would be no gas station.” He put his arm across the back of the couch, his palms brushing against her shoulders. “Plus... I like the freedom of making my own hours.”
“There cant be a lot of money in it though,” she mused.
“No. Actually probably even less than you would think. When someone cant pay, I get paid in trade.”
Even less than she thought? And yet he had spent god-knows how much money on their dinner the night before. “What? Like you fix a tractor, you get corn?” she laughed.
“Yeah actually,” Eric smiled. “but it's usually a big supply of various crops. Or free dinner at the diner for a few weeks. Or even drinks at the bar.” He took a bite of the apple turnover. “You don't need a lot of cash in a town like this. Everyone relies on each other. And... I own this building outright.”
“You're lucky,” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing,” Lena said, getting up and moving to the kitchen. She carefully laid napkins on a plate and started to pile the chocolate chip cookies for Liam on top.
Eric watched her from the couch, eating the rest of his chocolate java cake. She had said he was lucky. She didn't want to admit it, but she had. He couldn't imagine being stuck in a job you weren't fully happy with. Being so completely devoted to a path that you knew you weren't meant to. Spending weekends pursuing the only thing you actually enjoyed. How bad had her childhood been to warrant such a mindset?
“So you're going to take these over to Liam's right? Before he goes to sleep?”
Eric looked at his cell for a second. “Which should be in about... half an hour.”
“Seriously?” Lena asked, scrunching up her nose. “So not only does he dress like a grandpa, he has the bedtime of one too?”
Eric smiled, walking up and sitting down on the stool, watching her methodically pile the cookies, all of them puffy and light. Soft looking. “Come on. Can I just try one?”
“If there are any left over after I'm done piling them up,” she said in a nonchalant voice.
“He's really going to appreciate this, baby.”
“It's no big deal,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. She reached for the plastic wrap she had found stuck behind three cans of coffee in the cupboard.
“It will be to him. Stop playing yourself down, sweetheart,” Eric said, moving behind the counter to take the plate from her.
Lena smiled up at him, reaching behind her back for a second and then bringing a cookie to his mouth. Eric bit into it, watching her as he did.
“Oh, baby,” he said, closing his eyes. “You should sell these.”
Lena pushed the rest of the cookie in his mouth and moved a foot away. She was too close. He was too close. It was all just... too close. She felt flushed and unsure of herself. All the talk about her passions and work was just too intimate. She had the overwhelming urge to walk into his arms and...
Well, that wasn't going to happen.
“Go and bring them to him before he passes out. I'm gonna clean all this and head to bed myself.”
“Alright,” he said, moving a step closer, leaning down and planting a quick kiss on her lips. “Goodnight baby.”
“Goodnight,” she said, knowing it was going to be incredibly hard to fall asleep with him just one room away.
Seventeen
She cleaned the kitchen quickly, changing back into Eric's over sized t-shirt, and slipping into bed. She tried watching a show, then another, but ultimately gave up and turned off the television.
He came in about half an hour later. She heard the lock slide into place, surprised he even bothered to lock up in such a small town. He kicked off his shoes and she heard him walk down the hall, past her room and into the bathroom where he quickly brushed his teeth, leaving the water running the whole time.
He turned off the light, making the hall dark and she heard his feet as he walked.
She felt the urge to call to him, strong and insistent. Unden
iable. She pushed the pillow away from her chest, whispering quietly, too quietly to be heard, “Eric.”
But a second later, the door pushed open, Eric's hand holding onto the edge as if trying to hold himself in place.
“Yeah baby?”
Lena took a deep breath, pushing herself into a seated position. She needed to tell him to go away. That she hadn't called him. Tell him goodnight.
But she found herself saying, “Come here.”
Eric hung his head for a split second before walking in and standing next to the bed. Lena looked up at him, the light on the other side of the bed casting him half in shadow. She scooted a bit toward the center of the bed, and put her hand down on the mattress next to her.
He sat down slowly, barely disturbing the sheets. He stretched out beside her, half propped up on the headboard. He reached out, snaking an arm around her back and pulling her against him, pressing her against his chest.
She laid her head down carefully, hearing his heartbeat underneath her ear. His arms went around her, his fingers stroking up and down her spine. Just as she was starting to drift off to sleep, lulled by his closeness, he pulled her tighter and pushed her onto her back.
He tilted his head, his lips landing just below her ear and moving downward. Lena turned her head to the side, sighing as his tongue slipped into the hollow of her throat. One of her thighs moved across his body, pulling him closer. She reached up behind his head, grabbing his hair and pulling his face up to hers.
His mouth was gentle on hers, his body next to hers rigid as though he was struggling to remain in control. She bit at his lower lip, forcing his mouth open and slipping her tongue inside to play with his. His hands moved down her back, grabbing her ass and pulling her leg over him.
As soon as her knee hit the other side of his body, she sat up, looking down at him. His hands stroked the sides of her hips, just a whisper against her skin. They moved upward, grabbing the hem of her shirt and slowly pulling upward, exposing her skin inch by inch. He leaned upward, pulling the material over her head and kissing her quickly before laying back down.
What The Heart Finds Page 14
