A slow smile spread over her face. “So you’re in trouble with me.”
He raised his torso to move in closer and captured her lips with his. “Yep. If we’re both in trouble—” He placed a hand on one shoulder to guide her back into the mattress. He parted her legs with a knee and maneuvered his body over hers. “I say we go for broke.”
****
Eric jerked awake from a deep sleep, covered in sweat as he shook away the same dream that’d haunted him since Finn’s death. It took him a few minutes to remember his surroundings.
Soft skin, even breaths, legs entangled, bodies close. Naked. He was in bed with Darla.
His mind calmed, but the rest of him almost burst from a major high over the mind-blowing sex they’d shared. Sparks sizzled along each of his nerve endings. Her soft moaning of his name when she came echoed through his mind making him hot all over again. How could this not be exciting? The women he lusted for lay naked in his arms. She was amazing. This would be so easy to get used to. Lying with her, holding her after having incredible sex. Forget about everything else and be with her.
Wonderful yes, but they’d slept on her dad’s boat and he sensed now wasn’t a good time to linger. He wanted to dress and be in his room before Darla’s folks were up. Her father told him he left for fishing early. Whether they were aware about last night or not, he didn’t want to get caught here with their daughter, especially without any clothes on. Her dad probably owned weapons.
He shook her. She instantly flinched. “Huh.”
“Close to sun up, luv. We’d better get inside b’fore your father comes out to go fishing.”
She nodded and rolled out of bed. They silently dressed, and together they straightened the covers. Eric gathered his shower things, and hand and hand they walked inside until they reached her room. He brushed her lips with his. She sleepily stumbled into her bedroom and straight to her bed, falling into the messed blankets. With a final glance at the wild curls fanned across the pillow, he closed the door and whispered, “Thanks, luv.”
Eric slept for another two hours, awaked by a heavenly scent of something cooking. His stomach rumbled. Hurriedly, he shucked into a pair of jeans, lugged a shirt over his head, and then followed the trail into the kitchen.
Darla stood in front of the stove, whipping the contents of a bowl with a wire whisk. She poured the mixture into a waiting skillet heating over a fire. A soft sizzle sprang from the pan.
She stepped to the refrigerator for a container and hurried back to the burners to add the concoction. He strolled inside, but stopped to give her a light peck on the cheek before he did anything else. He did his damnedest to ignore the sweet taste of her skin. Another first for him. He enjoyed domestication with her, yet he found the naturalness of it all disturbing.
“Where’s your mum?” Eric scraped a chair across the floor to sit at a small breakfast nook in the corner of the room. Two cups and silverware were laid on placemats on either side. A steaming pot placed in the middle of the table seeped the welcoming aroma of caffeine. He reached for the coffee then filled both mugs. “Your dad’s gone to fish, right?”
“Yes, and mom’s at work.” She carried a plate over and placed it in front of him.
“Your dad gave me a tour of his boat last night, but yours was a much better one.” He stopped to grin at her. “A more intimate one. The bed is very comfortable, by the way.”
She blushed and giggled. “The man wasn’t kidding when he said he likes to fish, and he likes to do it in luxury.”
She sat a covered clay pot next to him, then lifted the lid. “Corn tortillas. And,” she motioned to a small bowl already on the table, “my mother’s homemade salsa.”
Eric took two tortillas and added a dollop of the spicy paste while she sat down across from him. “I like this,” he pointed to the hot sauce with the spoon, “but I should be careful. I tried a sample when your mum was making the stuff. ’Bout burned up my tonsils.”
“Salsa is an acquired taste.”
He picked up his fork. “Let’s see how your performance in the kitchen compares to your late night boat antics.” He inspected the food getting another whiff of the delicious smell. “You realize you’ve raised that bar pretty high.” The tip of his lip tilted upward. “Twice.”
Darla giggled again. The pink tinge returned and covered her cheeks as she snapped a forefinger to her lips. “Shhh.” She glanced around the room. “Somebody might hear you.”
“Aren’t we the only ones here?” He stabbed the fork at an egg and slid a bite into his mouth. “No worries, then.” He pointed at the dish. “This taste great. What is it?”
“Omelet de huitlacoche.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Mushroom omelet.”
“Why didn’t you say mushroom omelet?”
“This is a Spanish recipe. It sounds prettier when spoken in Spanish.” She gave him an inquisitive look. “So what do you want to do today?”
He gave her a wicked grin. “You have to ask?”
Darla stopped in mid-bite, gripping her fork. “We can’t do that here. I’ve already faked sleep to avoid my mother this morning.”
“We can’t?” He allowed a full minute to pass before he shook his head, “Darla, we did it last night.” He leaned across the table to brush his lips against hers. “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. All day.”
Eric stood, grabbing her hand, and led her down the hallway and into his bedroom.
After they dressed, again, Darla offered to show him around Port Isabel and South Padre Island. The areas were small, but quaint. Tourism banners waved freely in the warm gulf breeze to promote the city’s historic Lighthouse Square. As she drove him through, she pointed out a wealth of shopping and eating establishments off the waterfront. They spent the morning exploring the more interesting ones.
They crossed the Queen Isabella Memorial Causeway to the island. She relayed the story how a loaded barge struck one of the bridge’s support beams causing a partial collapse back in 2001. The accident killed eight people, which devastated the community. Four of the dead were from Port Isabel.
At South Padre, they lunched at the restaurant her mother managed. She fussed over them the entire meal and made no mention of knowing what went on between them the night before, but Eric sensed she was aware.
They devoted the afternoon walking the streets, wandering in and out of the unique shops. Darla suggested taking advantage of the stables on the island and going for a horseback ride along the beach. The evening ended with the two of them enjoying a dinner outside with a sunset view on a gulf-front patio. When the outing was over, they climbed into her SUV and Darla drove them to her family home. The place sat dark and empty.
“Your parents are still working or fishing?” Eric removed his baseball cap, threw it down on the sofa, and, ran his fingers through his hair several times.
Darla flipped a light switch and shook her head. “They play a weekly game of Texas hold ’em with friends. It’ll be a late night.” She laughed. “Those two don’t miss a chance to win a couple of hundred bucks, no matter who’s visiting.”
Eric shoved his hands in his pockets. His first instinct was to usher her back to the boat as he watched her turn on the lights on her way into the kitchen. The sound of ice clinking against glass echoed from the other room. Moments later she returned, carrying two drinks.
She handed him one before she sat down on the couch. “You can’t be in Texas without some of my momma’s sweet tea.”
With a slight nod he accepted her offer, although he wasn’t thirsty. Deliberations mulled in his mind as to what to do next. What he should say. He was leaving tomorrow, something they discussed throughout the day. She’d hinted about the two of them getting together when she came home to California in a couple of weeks.
“Are you tired? We could watch a movie or find a decent TV show.”
He took a large gulp almost choking on the liquid. He struggled to swallow the mouthful of sugar. He coughed the too sweet drink down. “I think we need to talk.” He sat the glass on a nearby table.
Darla stared at him long and hard. He watched her in return, doing his best to ignore the tight T-shirt and denim shorts that defined her lovely shape. “After everything is done in California, I’m planning to move on.”
Darla didn’t speak. The look on her face displayed pure betrayal. Her anxious expression almost made him want to change his mind. Choose the cowardly way out. Tell her he was joking. Let her discover his disappearance in her own time, like the old Eric would do. Except it was too late for second guessing.
“I wanted you to know what my plans were. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about us. No surprises.”
“I’m not surprised.” She dropped her head. “Your viewpoints on relationships are very clear. You never misled me. Except I don’t understand why you’re leaving California. You’re telling me you’re going for good, right?”
“What I’m saying is even though we have a song doing well and Raging Impulse is enjoying some new popularity, I’m still broke. My only choice is to go home.” He lowered his voice. “To Scotland.”
“Are you ever coming back?”
He opened his mouth but waited, fighting for the right words before he replied, “Spiraling UP is moving well in the UK and that’s where I need to be. I have no guarantee any success will happen here. There’s no reason for me to return to the States.”
A long pause stretched between them. She lifted her chin, her eyes mirrored questions running within her mind. “So I’m no reason, right? That’s how you see me?”
“Darla. Don’t go looking for double meanings in what I say.”
Damn. Why didn’t he think this through, word it in a different way? He realized she’d take everything he’d say personally.
She stubbornly raised her chin higher. “I’m not.”
“I believe you are.”
“You just said there’s nothing to bring you back to the states. Except music. And yes, you’ve explained your views on romantic involvements, but I don’t get them. I sensed a connection between us on every level, more than just chemistry, more than sex. I can’t imagine you didn’t get that too.”
He put his hands on his hips, making sure his eyes wouldn’t connect with hers. “I’m sorry, Darla. I am grateful for everything you’ve done. And you’re right. I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
“But it’s not enough.”
He shook his head and dropped his arms. “Let me tell you how men are. We settle when we’re ready. And before we can get ready, we like everything in place or at least have an idea where we’re going. I don’t have either. No matter what I feel for you, this is not the right time for me.”
She hesitated. “So you’re saying you do have feelings for me?”
He didn’t want to answer that question, wouldn’t. If he did, the entire outcome of his life would alter and he’d already made up his mind. “Darla, I’m doing what I need to do. I set plans for myself long before I met you. You’re going to have to accept it.”
“Of course. Ambitions can’t change or expand, can they? Damn everyone else, let’s only think about Eric.” Arms crossed over her chest, she glared at him. “Why am I always attracted to such egotistical men? Do I have a big stamp on my forehead that says,
Please screw over
?”
“Stop saying stuff like that. I’m broke and I’m not sure what my financial outlook is. I can’t offer you anything.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me. And I’m not about the money.”
“I didn’t say you needed me to take care of you, but if I’m with you, I’d want to. Couples should be able to give and take. We’re not there by any means. The way things are at the moment my role in this relationship doesn’t exist. You care for me. Period. And I am sort of about the money.”
“Aren’t you all? There’s a lot of different ways we can be with each other besides financial.”
His chin dropped. He gave his head a definite shake before he looked back up at her. “Do you realize how little we have in common? Darla, you teach college and you’ve earned two degrees. You’re studying to get a PhD. I don’t even have a real job. This whole situation doesn’t work for me.”
“Then just admit it. You used me like you use every other woman. Except with me, you stuck in some pretty words and I bought into the entire lie.” She flew off the sofa, got in his face and yelled. “Money is not the only thing you severely lack in, Eric Boyd.” Then she stormed out of the room.
The slamming of the back door told him he could expect a long night. A reminder. This is why he didn’t get too deeply involved with women. Eric stared past his feet and onto the carpet. Fuck. He couldn’t leave things this way. No matter what he did, he’d be dealing with complications with his conscience and he’d rather not. With a huge sigh, he traced her steps and followed her outdoors.
Darkness had settled. The backyard sat pitch black. He stepped inside and ran a hand along the wall until he located a switch plate and flipped the button. A faint glow lit the small path leading down to the dock. Surveying the surroundings, he didn’t see anyone, although that meant nothing. She could be anywhere. She was more familiar with the area than he.
He patted his pocket, then removed his cigarettes. Taking a break for a quick smoke, he allowed his gaze to linger over the rippling gulf below. Her father’s monstrous vessel slowly swayed in the twilight’s heavy currents. Instincts told him that’s where he’d find her. He tossed the cigarette butt into the water as he strolled down the wooden planks, over to the boat.
“Darla?” He called as he climbed up and down a ladder leading onboard. “Darla, are you here?”
No answer. Of course she wouldn’t respond. She was pissed and rightfully so. Even if he’d made his intentions clear, he had to consider his actions of late didn’t exactly match his words. Why wouldn’t she get the wrong idea?
“I’m sorry.” His voice rang loud into the night. He stepped carefully across the upper deck, running his hand alongside the railing, careful not to slide on the slippery surface. “Come on, Darla. Let’s talk some more.”
He stopped on the port side of the boat to stare into the darkened gulf. What should he do? Water lapped quietly against the vessel’s hull as a light breeze shifted the watercraft easily back and forth, niffing the salty air with a fishy scent.