What The Heart Finds Page 10

  “Yeah I could see that killing the mood.”

  “So you're not gonna give him a shot, huh?”

  Lena considered Devon over her menu. “If you were me, would you?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  “Yeah,” Devon said, his grin lopsided, almost uncomfortable. “I think I would. I mean... if there was a female version of Eric, I cant imagine not wanting to give that a shot. It seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity, don't you think?”

  “Maybe,” Lena grumbled, glancing back down at her menu. Why did everything have to lead back to Eric? All she wanted to do was put the idea of him behind her. She certainly didn't need people coming out of the wood works and telling her she should mess around with him. That was literally the last thing she should be hearing when she was trying to convince herself to stay away from him.

  “So what are the autumn activities you were talking about?” she asked, the segue awkward and harsh to her own ears.

  But Devon smiled. “Oh you haven't seen fall until you've seen it here. All the farms have events. Hay rides, pumpkin picking, apple picking, huge elaborate corn mazes, entire acres turned into haunted houses. The whole town gets decorated first for harvest and then for Halloween. There's parades and then three separate parties on actual Halloween evening.”

  “Don't the kids trick-or-treat?”

  “Well right here in town, they do. But most of the kids live out on the farms and whatnot. It's too far to walk between. So the school gets set up. One room for the small kids, not scary, full of activities. One room for the teens. Kinda scary but mostly just a place to chill and talk and listen to shock rock. And then the adults get the gym. It's a big deal. People come to town just for the weekend.”

  “You get full here?”

  “That's an odd question,” Emily said, walking past and grabbing dishes off of an empty table.

  Lena glanced at Emily, her posture very rigid. Her face a bit stern. Like maybe she was suspicious. Lena smiled, trying to seem genuine. “I was just curious. If I decided to come back, would I have to like... reserve a room way in advance?”

  “It wouldn't hurt,” Devon said, looking between them curiously. “At least a week or two in advance anyway,” he added.

  Emily eyed her for another short second before walking away.

  Lena ordered strawberry crepes she had no intention of eating, her stomach swirling around ominously at the possibility of Emily being on to her.

  That was it. She had to get into the computer system once and for all so she could go back to being a normal person on vacation. Maybe if she wasn't so on edge all of the time about her job then she could relax and Emily wouldn't be so suspicious.

  Twelve

  She spent her afternoon pacing her room, anxiety making her feel jittery. She had to get into the computers that night. If Devon was working, the task would be almost impossible. He never came out from behind the desk.

  And Emily would be even worse. Granted, she was almost never at the actual desk. But she was always jetting around from one task to another. There was nothing predictable about her behavior. Which made sneaking behind the desk even more dangerous.

  Lena shook her head as she moved across her room. It didn't matter how dangerous it was. She had to get it done. Because if she didn't, Emily was never going to get off her case.

  There was a sharp knocking on her door, making her heart fly into her throat. She looked over her shoulder at the door as if expecting it to burst open. But there was just silence for a moment, followed by more knocking.

  She walked over, pulling the lock and opening the door.

  And there was Eric. Looking undeniably sexy in gray slacks and a black dress shirt, the top button left open. She looked at him disbelieving for a moment before she even realized he was holding a bouquet of flowers. But, sure enough, there in his hand was a beautiful assortment of white flowers.

  Her eyes flew up to his face, big and confused.

  “Hey beautiful,” he said, drawling the word out and smiling an almost shy smile.

  Lena's brows drew together. “What are you doing here?”

  Eric smiled, shaking his head, losing the insecurity. “I am taking you to dinner.”

  “To dinner?” Lena repeated dumbly.

  “Yes,” he smirked. “You know. You go to a restaurant. You eat food. You talk. Maybe dance...”

  “You dance?” Lena broke in, her mind in a strange sort of fog. Not quite comprehending what was going on.

  “Yes baby,” he said, winking. “I dance. So why don't you take these,” he said, extending the flowers out to her. “and put them in water in one of those antique bathroom cups the inn is so fond of. Slip into your shoes,” he said, smiling down at her bare feet. “and then we can get going.”

  Lena took the flowers and moved into the bathroom, filling the cup with water and putting the flowers in. She glanced up at herself in the mirror, her eyes wide. Was Eric O'reilly actually... taking her on a date? The idea was so comical, she felt a hysterical laugh build up in her throat. She fought against it, the sound coming out in one strangled yip.

  She didn't know exactly what possessed her to do so, but she reached up and pulled her hair out of its bun. She ran her fingers through it until it settled neatly down around her shoulders before she walked back into her room.

  Eric was running his fingers over the surface of her laptop, looking out toward the street. He glanced over when he heard her, offering her a small, appreciative smile. “Much better,” he said as he watched her walk over to the closet and look for a pair of shoes. “You actually use the closets in hotels?” he asked, looking at all the neat clothes on hangers, the shoes lined up on the floor.

  “Doesn't everybody?” Lena asked, standing up and slipping into a pair of navy blue sandals.

  “No,” Eric laughed, moving over toward her and grabbing her hand.

  “Wait,” Lena yelped as he pulled her toward the door. She reached out awkwardly, grabbing her purse and room key. He led her silently down the hall and toward the stairs. “So where are we going? To the diner?”

  Eric looked over at her as if she had grown another head for a second before shaking his head. “No, baby. We aren't going to the diner,” he said and gently pulled her behind him down the stairs. “Hey Dev,” he said as they walked past the front desk.

  “Once in a lifetime,” Devon winked at her as she passed.

  “Shut up you,” she said, not unkindly as Eric continued to lead her out toward the street.

  “Once in a lifetime what?” Eric asked, slowing his pace. Like the threat of her rejection was behind them.

  “What? Oh, nothing. He was just being silly,” she said, looking for his truck.

  “Alright. Keep your secrets,” he said, leading her to a vintage black muscle car, the paint bright and shiny. He opened the door, and looked over at her when she didn't move to get inside.

  “How many cars do you have?” she asked, glancing in at the clean interior.

  “A few,” Eric said cryptically, holding out a hand until she lowered herself in. He shut the door and quickly climbed into the driver's seat, turning the car over.

  “So where are we going if we aren't going to the diner? Isn't that the only place to eat in town besides the inn?”

  “Yeah,” Eric agreed, pulling the car onto the street. “but I never said we were eating in town.”

  –

  They drove for a half an hour, Lena lost in thought, staring out the window as Eric sang along to the classic rock on the radio, thrumming his hands against the steering wheel. As the pulled onto the busy road she came in on, they turned off in the opposite direction. Lena glanced over at Eric occasionally, marveling at how different he seemed to be when he wasn't trying to get inside someone's panties. He seemed lighter, the sharp angles of his face softer.

  “Where is this restaurant?” she asked, checking the clock on the radio. “in another state?”
<
br />   Eric sent her a small smile, turning the car off of the busy road. “We're almost there.”

  Then two minutes later, they were. It was a small gray stucco building with immaculately manicured ornamental trees and shrubbery. Everything about it screamed money. Lena looked self-consciously down at her clothes. She should really be in a dress.

  “Eric,” she said, her voice holding a weight he could feel.

  “What's the matter?”

  “I'm not dressed for a place like...”

  “Oh stop,” Eric smiled, turning the car off and moving quickly around to her side. “Everything you own is appropriate for fine dining. Hell, you could probably wear those silk pj pants,” he said, offering his hand to help her out. “and no one would bat an eye.” His hand went to her lower back as he guided her toward the entrance and through the door.

  The inside of the restaurant was elegant yet Tuscan rustic. The wood was all reclaimed with charming dents and dings but stained a perfect mid-shade brown. The walls were a light beige color, something she would call papyrus because it resembled pages of antique books. There were simple wooden tables in intimate groups of two or four. The floor was a natural stone, the individual tiles soft and almost rounded upward in varying shades of brown.

  There was a bar toward the back, a huge ceiling-high wine rack behind it, bottles peaking out of each of their cubbies.

  At the center of each table was a low brass pot with herbs growing out of them.

  The gorgeous blond hostess smiled automatically as they approached, but then smiled genuinely at Eric for far too long to be professional.

  Lena felt a bit of jealous possessiveness well up unbidden. Granted, she and Eric weren't a couple. But she certainly didn't know that.

  “How are you this evening?” she purred at Eric, leaning slightly over her podium, her shirt slipping lower and revealing her unfairly large breasts.

  “We're,” Eric said the word firmly, his hand putting more pressure on her lower back and pulling her closer to his side. “very well thank you.”

  She stood up straighter, pushing her shoulders back, professional again. “What name is the reservation under?”

  “O'reilly.”

  The hostess eyes flew upward. “Eric?” she asked, as if the name meant something.

  “That's me,” Eric smiled charmingly at her, the poor girl.

  “Right. Oh,” she said, looking around, flustered. “I'm so sorry. Lenny wanted to make sure you have the best seat,” she said, glancing down at her seating chart. “Okay,” she said, taking a breath, recovering. “right this way, please.”

  She led them over to a far corner in the restaurant, situated away from the rest of the tables. The bench was nestled in the nook of two walls, a long singular seat for them to share in front of their table.

  Eric released her back, motioning for her to scoot in. He moved in beside her, taking the menus from the hostess.

  “Lenny will be over to say hello in a moment,” she said, smiling. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Lena ran her hands over the table, sitting up a little too straight.

  “What's the matter?” Eric asked, too close to her ear. His entire body was pressed up next to hers.

  “We are same-side sitting,” she said, scrunching her nose up. “I always make fun of same side seaters.”

  Eric chuckled, his hand moving to her knee. “No, see?” he said, gesturing out to the other side of the table. “This isn't same-side sitting. Because there is no other side to this table.”

  “But there is another side to...”

  “Not with chairs,” he broke in, smiling.

  Lena reached out toward the center of the table, stroking the leaves of a rosemary plant. “This is a really cute idea,” she said, switching the topic.

  “They're Anna's,” Eric said, pointing to the small handwritten note on the front with the words Tasty Trio. In tiny print underneath that is said Annabelle Goode.

  “Oh wow. Small world.”

  “Not really,” Eric said, shrugging. “Sam sells here. So when he was dating Anna, he got her in. Lenny is infatuated with Anna. He's her biggest customer.”

  “So how do you know Lenny?” Lena asked, not entirely sure who Lenny was.

  “He fix my car,” a deep male voice said, heavy with accent. Lena looked up to see Lenny in a white chef's jacket. He was heavyset man with a full, welcoming face. “Everyone else say no can fix. He fix like that,” he said, snapping his fingers.

  Lena smiled. “Well that is good to know since he is currently working on my car.”

  “He fix it. It will be new again. Eric, Eric,” he said, reaching out. Eric got up out of the booth, shaking Lenny's hand heartily before being pulled into a big bear hug. “You never visit,” Lenny complained, his tone light.

  “I know,” Eric said. “It's been too long. But I'm here now,” he said, holding an arm out toward Lena. She quickly scooted out of the booth to stand next to him. “This is Lena. Lena this is Lenny, the best chef in this state,” at Lenny's raised brow, he chuckled. “or any other state for that matter.”

  Lena smiled, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “You too,” he said, shaking her hand roughly. “So I don't see you for... for year and then you come here with this lovely young lady,” Lenny said, his tone teasing.

  “Don't,” Eric said, almost blushing.

  Lena looked at him amused. “Oh please do,” she said, smiling. “No one else seems to be capable of making the unflappable Eric O'reilly flustered.”

  “Hush you,” he said, smiling, reaching over and pinching her backside out of Lenny's view.

  “Oh, no matter. No matter,” he said, waving a chubby hand. “You eat, right? I send you something special to eat.”

  Eric looked over at Lena, seeking permission. “Yes of course,” she said, smiling. “that would be great.”

  “Good. Good. Sit. I send over waiter with some wine,” he said, bustling off.

  Lena scooted back into the booth, collecting both their menus since they would not be needing them. She had a second to glance over the prices and felt her stomach tighten. It was even worse than she had expected.

  “So that was Lenny,” Eric said, taking the menus from her and moving them to the edge of the table to be collected.

  “He's great,” Lena said and meant it.

  “Yeah he is,” Eric agreed, his hand moving to her knee again. Casually. But she felt desire well up regardless. “Wait until you have his food. He's really amazing.”

  The waiter came over, pouring them each glasses of red wine and she had a moment to marvel at Eric's varied tastes. She had sort of pegged him for a beer drinker. Maybe she needed to stop making assumptions.

  “So Lena,” he said, rolling her name over in his mouth. Intimate. “what do you do when you're not working?”

  Lena looked over at him for a moment. Casual conversation. They were actually having a casual conversation without any undercurrent of sexuality.

  “I'm always working,” she said, smiling into her wine glass. He raised a brow at her and she shrugged. “I dunno. I bake. I run errands. I don't do much.”

  “So what do you do for work then?”

  Lena felt herself stiffen slightly. She had to be very careful here. But she didn't want to lie to him either. “I'm an executive assistant to a venture capitalist,” she said, telling half of the truth.

  “Wow,” Eric said, his tone dry. “that sounds incredibly boring.”

  “Yes because car engines are so fascinating,” she shot back.

  “Maybe not,” Eric conceded. “but I'm not married to my job.”

  “Hey that's not...”

  Eric's hand landed on her arm, his fingers stroking back and forth. “Let's not,” he said quietly. “get on each others nerves just because we can.”

  “Right,” Lena said, nodding. They were having a perfectly good time. There was no point p
ushing each others buttons and ruining it. “Okay subject change,” she said, grasping for something they could discuss.

  “Stop trying so hard,” he coaxed. “Just ask me whatever is on your mind.”

  “Okay,” she said, turning her hips away from him so she could face him. “Why did you choose to stay in Stars Landing? Was is just habit? Familiarity?”

  “It was a lot of things,” Eric said, looking serious. “Dad's liver eventually gave out from all the booze and he died...”

  “I'm sorry,” Lena said, covering his hand on her knee with her own. “How old were you?”

  “Eighteen,” Eric supplied, oddly distant in tone. “At that point, I needed to get my shit together and take care of Liam. I got the garage back on its feet and we lived in the apartment. Working on cars every spare moment to make ends meet. Put some money away.”

  “I cant imagine Liam working on cars. Grease all over his grandpa sweaters,” she smiled.

  Eric laughed, turning his hand over and entwining his fingers with hers. “He was actually an even better mechanic than I was but he hated it. That's why the money needed to be put away. For college.”

  “Oh,” Lena said, perking up a bit. “where did he go?”

  “He didn't,” Eric said, rolling his eyes.

  “But he's so brilliant,” Lena objected.

  “He didn't want to go. He's a genius but he just never had much ambition to go along with it. He just always kind of wanted a quiet life with his books.”

  “So you bought him a bookstore,” Lena said, her tone thoughtful. What a gesture. She couldn't imagine that kind of family obligation.

  “Don't give me that look,” Eric smiled. “It wasn't some grand gesture. That money was his. So I used it to get him something he would appreciate more than a college experience. He never needed classrooms,” Eric said, sounding proud. “he learned everything in those books of his. I swear he never paid any attention at all in school and just passed with flying colors.”

  “He's lucky,” Lena said, thinking of how much time she spent scribbling notes and filling out flashcards and making charts and scheduling study sessions. “I never left my dorm I was studying so much.”