Incidental Contact (Those Devilish De Marco Men) (3 page)

Dan and Colton had clung to their women. Eric had looked so alone, she’d ached for him the most.

Waiting in her car for her heater to thaw her hands, she’d watched him fall to his knees on his parents’ graves. Over and over, though the wind had been fierce, he traced the freshly-chiseled letters in his mother’s headstone with bare fingers, as though trying to know Iris Camille Chapman De Marco the only way he had left.

He still wore the look she’d seen in his eyes that day. He smiled, but he didn’t joke the way he once had and most of the time, he had a little-lost-boy expression that made her heart twist.

Yet, she also knew why Lila called him Honey Bee. Her friend joked that Eric was out to pollinate every flower in the county. Amy couldn’t blame him. If she looked like Eric, she might rub pollen on a few people herself, but to him, she’d be a weed.
So this sex talk’s just teasing.
If Dan’s girlfriend Cynda was right, Eric might not think about anything else.

Before she had time to dial back the emotions brought on by the memory, he demanded, “You got someplace to sleep? I just remembered you had those clothes in your back seat at lunchtime. Saw ‘em when I pulled your car into my bay. Why do I think you moved them to the trunk so you could sleep in your car?”

He must’ve overheard her talking to Lila when she got her oil changed. Lila offered to let her sleep on their couch when Amy vowed she wasn’t moving back into her parents’ compact condo. One royal battle over leaving home was enough for a lifetime. Moving the clothes had been the expedient way to search for her dress and shoes. She still had hours to worry about a place to crash for the night.

Pinned by his gorgeous eyes, she couldn’t seem to form the words to explain. “W-what?”

Eric tapped her nose with each word. “Bed? Tonight? Pillows? Sheets? Blanket?”

Damn Dani for putting the term “sheet-wrestling” in her head. She had a mini-fantasy about rolling around naked in tangled sheets with Eric.
Yeah, right.
Her cheeks felt like she’d tried to iron them flat—
as if
—and left the iron in one place too long.

Eric was a decent guy. Not what she’d call a nice guy, but he had a soft streak he hid from most people. Still, admitting she was homeless sucked. “N-n-ot... exactly.”

His growl sounded annoyed. “Fucking women. Nothing can ever be simple. Which is it? Yes or goddamn no?”

At her mother’s request, she’d spent two weeks sleeping on the couch at her parent’s place, so her mom could visit her sister, who was planning a huge summer wedding. Her dad couldn’t wash a load of clothes without breaking the washing machine, and he tended to shove tinfoil-wrapped items in the microwave. Alice was due back tonight. Amy could still take the couch, but she’d be damned if she wanted to lose her independence. Her mother would expect her to show up every night if she made the mistake of sleeping there once after Alice learned she’d left Drew. “N-n-ot really.”

She’d thought moving out of Drew’s place would be a temporary separation. But three weeks had passed and she still didn’t want to go back to his apartment. She was in no hurry to admit to her mother she’d only been in love with the idea of playing house.

There were things about Drew her mother never needed to know.

“It’s gonna drop into the twenties tonight.” Eric made another growling sound. “Spit it out.”

Her retort was a knee-jerk response, not flirting, just her usual smart-ass. “Or?”

Unexpectedly, he smiled. Something caused the blue in his eyes to dominate the green, like her mother’s treasured mood ring from her hippie days. The sight made Amy’s heart as uncooperative as her tongue. He leaned forward until their noses touched. Heat from his body seeped through her shirt. His breath felt cool to her heated cheeks, but the stirring air made her lips tingle. Her heart took off like a scared rabbit.

Maybe he didn’t realize he stood so close that her breasts, belly, and thighs were pressed against him. He couldn’t know every time he growled like a Rottweiler, her nipples stood up like tuning forks, absorbing the vibration. But she knew. Damn, did she ever.

His voice dropped lower. “Okay, hold out. I dare you. I’d enjoy getting the answer out of you. And the longer you held out, the more I’d enjoy it.”

Amy felt like the field mouse who was just going about its business and got snatched up by a hawk. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. All she could do was wait—for the flesh-tearing to begin.

Except... she wasn’t a mouse, and calling Eric a hawk might be an understatement.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be worried.” Hypnotized, Amy watched his lips move. She was startled when he slid his knuckle across her cheekbone. The light brush tingled in two distinct spots—places too far apart for her reaction to be normal. “Looks like you get hot pretty easy.”

Seriously, I’m starting to understand why women line up to fuck him.
What remained a mystery was why he was acting like he wanted to fuck her. Maybe he was under the influence of that blue moon phenomenon people were talking about, a second full moon in a single month?

He slid his fingers through her hair, tugging her face toward his. “I owe you one, Amy,” he muttered. She froze, but her heart redlined when he pressed his lips to hers.

D
ee’s voice pierced the static of the milling crowds. “Eric, sweetheart, you’re early!” Outrage that Dee would use him to hurt Jeb made him reckless. Jeb Wilkerson was one of damn few men who didn’t act like a sore-tailed cat around Eric. He shoved his fingers through Amy’s hair, pulling her lips to meet his. He only meant to hold her in place until Dee saw them.
I’ll explain later.  Amy’s a good sport, she’ll understand.

Then
,
her lips parted.

Eric forgot everything but the sweet, hesitant way her tongue slid across his lips. She opened for him with a small moan when he sought to deepen the kiss. So soft, and damn, she tasted good. Her curves seemed to fit around him. He felt her hands slide around the back of his neck. The touch sent a whisper of want down his spine. Feeling her rounded thighs against his made him wonder how it would feel to part them and settle in for a long, slow fuck.

“Are you gonna introduce me?” The hard yank on the back of his jacket reminded him of something annoying about Dee. She tried to mother him. When he rejected that effort, she’d do the big sister thing. Made his fucking head spin. Had to be that, because it sure as hell couldn’t be the little tomboy in his arms making his senses reel.
Could it?

He pulled away. Amy’s eyes were the color of coffee, straight from the pot. Even rigid with surprise, she felt soft. Her dazed expression was one a man took advantage of. It’d been a while since he’d seen that sexy haze in a woman’s eyes. Untangling his hands from her hair, he wrapped his arms around Amy, ignoring Dee. He pulled her to his chest, letting his palm rest between those adorable dimples above her butt.

Amy made a sound of surrender that sank into his chest like water through sand.

Her kiss was less hesitant this time, but she still gave off an innocent vibe that had the effect of sunshine on a slumbering bear, waking his dominant side. The noise from the busy mall disappeared. His only thought was,
God, she feels so good.
Amy’s scent went right to his head. Wanting more, Eric deepened the kiss.

When he had to breathe, Dee was still there, damn her. Cutting him a glare through narrowed eyes, she nevertheless smiled at Amy. “He used to do that to me back in high school. Just pinned me to my locker and to hell with whoever was walking down the hall.”

Christ, he wasn’t in her chair yet and she was on his nerves, yapping about high school. Plucking Amy off the planter before he went after kiss number three, he plopped her on the floor and muttered, “Amy, this is Dee Wilkerson. She cuts my hair.”

Amy cleared her throat. To his satisfaction, she wobbled. In flat shoes. She offered their pest a vague smile. “That behavior would get you suspended now.”

He tucked his arm around her, pulling her to his side, but neither his pointed introduction nor his gesture stopped Dee from giving him a heated look. “Got us suspended then, too. You don’t wanna know what we did those days. But you remember, don’t you?” The hairdresser’s hand on his ass increased his anger.

The next thing he knew, Dee had her hands in Amy’s hair. “This is healthy, but you could really use a good cut. And your hair’s so thick, you should have it thinned regularly.”

Amy suddenly looked like someone dipped her, face-first, into a bucket of transmission fluid. He didn’t disagree with Dee’s assessment, but he’d be damned if he planned to reward her for being rude, or for acting like a dog marking her territory. “We can’t talk right now, Dee. Amy has to get to the mall office before it closes. Catch you in a few.” Guiding Amy toward the office where his cousin, Phillip Chapman worked, Eric seethed.

* * * *

A
my had the car she drove now because she’d hit a deer with the old one. The night of the collision, she’d felt exactly this way. Watching that graceful animal bound out of the woods had felt like a dream. Many people had spoken to her that night. The policeman who’d come when she’d called nine-one-one. Her parents. The wrecker driver might’ve been from De Marco’s, but their words melted like snow flurries in sunshine, because every time she blinked, all she could see was those long eyelashes and gorgeous eyes.

It’d taken two days for her numbness to wear off so she could cry. Not for the damage done to her prized first car, but for the beautiful creature whose life had intersected so unexpectedly with hers.

Though she responded to Eric’s introduction, five steps down the mall she didn’t recall a word of the interchange. She felt his arm at her back and the way he tucked his fingers through a belt loop on her jeans. She could still smell his aftershave. Most of all, she still felt his lips, but nothing felt real. She glanced into the windows of the stores they passed, but couldn’t see the merchandise. All she saw was her reflection alongside Eric’s, and she kept thinking the same thing she’d thought before the deer crashed into her windshield.
This shouldn’t be happening
.

Like a malfunctioning watch, her mind kept replaying the moment his lips touched hers. Her body buzzed in all the places where he’d pressed against her. When he halted, she had no idea where they were, or why.
Did he really kiss me?
Her body sent signals it was so, but her mind rejected the idea as pure fantasy.

Why would he do that? Why would I kiss him? He’s not my type.

It slowly dawned on her to wonder why they’d stopped walking. Amy darted a look back, realizing they now stood at the end of a deserted corridor. When she looked to Eric for an explanation, their eyes met. Her body reacted like she’d stuck her tongue to a battery. The jolt seemed to start in her nipples and sizzle along an invisible wire, till the sensation exploded in her clit.

“Isn’t this where you said you wanted to go?” He tugged on her belt loop again.

If the unnerving tingle didn’t stop, she’d be able to heat an entire village with her cheeks. She dragged her gaze from his face and looked around the unfamiliar hallway, but the phenomenon singeing her girlie bits short-circuited her brain. The big pane of wavy glass at the end of the hall seemed to belong more in South Miami Beach than Nowhere Much, South Carolina. Black letters were painted on the door, but her brain refused to interpret them.

The sickly-sweet scent of cherry air freshener assailed her when he pushed the door open. A woman with large breasts, a spray-on tan, and platinum-tinted hair sat behind the counter. Her eyes went wide, inspecting Amy’s sweatshirt. “How may I help you?” Her tone made Amy feel like a little boy who’d wandered into the ladies room. The secretary’s gaze moved to Eric. She straightened her shoulders and stuck out her breasts.
Did those things come with an air pump?
If so, she’d exceeded the recommended pressure. If they were saline, maybe she doubled as the fire extinguisher?

Eric propelled her forward. Her rubber-soled shoes grabbed the thick carpeting. Amy lost her balance, stumbling into another young woman who stood in front of the short counter. The woman’s dark hair and bronzed skin made Amy blurt, “
Le ruego me disculpe. Lo siento mucho
.” She hoped she’d phrased her apology correctly.

The brunette didn’t respond, but Malibu Barbie rolled her blue eyes, making Amy feel fat and awkward. Eric tugged her belt loop. “Amy, did you need to talk to Phil?”

Who’s Phil?
“Um, I n-need to make an appointment to speak with th-the m-mall manager.”

The blonde’s fingers flew across her keyboard, but she didn’t take her eyes off Eric. “Mr. Chapman has left for the day, but he can give you a few minutes tomorrow at one-ten. May I tell him what this is regarding?”

The brunette turned. Amy spied the most gorgeous gray eyes she’d ever seen, so perhaps she’d been mistaken in assuming the woman spoke Spanish? Her brains felt like flambéed mush. She tried to shove her free hand into the back pocket of her jeans, but only succeeded in jamming her fingers on her cell phone.

She wished Eric had stayed in the hall. The sensation of his body pressed against her side made it hard to think straight. Every word she’d composed about this important proposal evaporated. Why couldn’t the heat from her face unthaw her brain? “A-a... a charity... thing. I-I can be here at one tomorrow. T-th-thanks.” Dammit, she didn’t stutter. Her tongue refused to co-operate. All that muscle wanted to do was roll around with Eric’s again.

“See you then.” The receptionist gave her a final, scornful, glare and Eric another come-here-so-I-can-lick-you look. Hammered by waves of embarrassment, Amy whirled.

Eric’s damn finger in her belt loop pulled her up short.

“Do you know Mr. Chapman... personally?” the receptionist cooed.

Seriously, someone needs to punch her in the face, just for that simpering tone.

Eric’s chuckle seemed to echo in Amy’s nipples like bee stings.
How the hell does he do that?