That night, for the first time in a long time, he had a dream with no violence in it, no explosions, no death. In the dream he was with Erin, but this time he didn’t turn her down. He unzipped her dress slowly and let it slide to the floor, and then he carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
When he woke up, he was hard and aching and his hands were fisted in the sheets. He lay awake for a long time, seeing Erin’s flushed face from his dream, and then remembering the look in her eyes when he’d left that night.
She’d offered him an incredible gift, and he’d rejected her. It had been the right thing to do, but he’d done it badly. The fact that she hadn’t returned his calls was proof of that.
He had to talk to her—and not just to apologize.
Physical desire wasn’t the only thing he felt for Erin. And while hurting her was his biggest regret, it wasn’t his only one.
He also regretted the loss of a potential friendship.
He’d actually felt at ease with Erin for a few moments that night. There weren’t many people he could stand to be around these days, and Erin was one of them.
But he’d made a move on her and then rejected her, and messed up any chance the two of them might have had to be friends.
Not that a friendship with her would be smooth sailing. He wasn’t the easiest person to get along with right now, and keeping his desire for Erin under wraps wouldn’t be easy, either. But it would be worth it if it meant he could have her in his life.
At four in the morning, he gave up trying to sleep and drove to the garage in town. He spent the next five hours putting the finishing touches on a bike he’d designed and built for a client, and then called to let him know it was ready.
“It looks incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the client said when he came to pick it up.
“I machined the plate for the clutch basket. I also machined the bolt and coil covers, front forks and motor mount. That’s why it looks unique.”
“It’s fantastic.” The client shook his hand before pulling out his checkbook. “You know, you could do really well for yourself if you had a web presence. You can’t just rely on word of mouth, not anymore. Not if you’re serious about starting a business.”
A web presence.
That started him thinking. He wasn’t sure if he was serious about starting a business, but he was definitely serious about talking to Erin again.
And he had a pretty good idea of how he could make that happen.
Why had she said yes to this lunch date? Evan was handsome, successful, polite—and so boring it was a struggle to keep from yawning.
Or maybe she was yawning because she’d had another dream about Jake last night, one that had left her as wakeful and restless as all her other dreams since the wedding—although this one, for a change, hadn’t been about that night.
It had been about the night of her sixteenth birthday.
The Landrys had thrown her and Allison a joint party, and there was a lot of teasing from their friends about “sweet sixteen and never been kissed”. It wasn’t true about Allison, who was dating her first boyfriend, but it was true about Erin.
Jake was nineteen that summer and had been in the Army for a year. He was home on leave for a few weeks, and Erin had been wondering if he’d notice that she was wearing contacts now instead of glasses.
Or if he’d notice her at all.
But she hardly saw him at all that week, and when she did he treated her like he always had.
Erin had resigned herself to that fact by the night of the party. It was a lot of fun, in spite of all the teasing, and several boys had offered to give her that all-important first kiss. She’d even thought about taking one of them up on it.
Then she went to the kitchen for more snacks, and found Jake there swigging milk straight from the carton. He was wearing faded jeans and an olive green tee shirt, and he looked so good he took her breath away.
But she had three years of experience at keeping those feelings to herself.
“Irene hates it when you do that,” she reminded him.
He grinned at her. “What are you, the milk police? Anyway, I finished it,” he added, shaking the empty carton to prove it.
He tossed the carton in the trash and leaned back against the counter, sliding his hands into his pockets and hooking one ankle over the other. This was the first time they’d been alone since he’d gotten back, and Erin wondered if he would finally notice how much she’d changed this year.
If he did, he gave no sign of it.
“Have I told you happy birthday yet?” he asked.
“No.”
“Do you want me to sing?”
That made her laugh. “No.”
“Well, then, happy birthday. Is there anything you wanted that you didn’t get?”