top. Is she the daughter of your sworn enemy or something?”
Eric managed a smile. “It’s not like that. She’s nice.” Actually, he had no idea if Beth was nice. She’d seemed nice during the few times he’d spoken to her. But what they’d done together hadn’t been nice. It had been wicked.
And really, really nice. His shoulders slumped. “So I should talk to her?”
Tessa shrugged. “All I know is, I’d be feeling pretty freaked out if it were me. She probably thinks you’re a serial killer now.”
“So I should hunt her down and surprise her, huh?”
“You know what I mean. Just make her understand it had nothing to do with her. That it wasn’t a game.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
She shoved him toward the door. “Do it.”
“Tessa—”
“Do it! Or I’ll think you’re a terrible person.” She walked away and left him with those awful words. He didn’t have a choice now, did he? Tessa was a girl; if she thought Eric needed to apologize again, then he probably needed to apologize again.
But surely Beth didn’t want to see him. Hell, she hadn’t wanted to see him again even when everything had been good.
Maybe he could just call. He opened the contacts file on his phone, but it was hopeless. He’d purposefully deleted her name and number. It had been distracting to see her there, one little name that seemed to glow brighter than the others. That name had tempted him, and some nights he’d found himself staring at it, trying to convince himself that one more meeting wouldn’t hurt anything. Boy, had he been wrong about that.
He glanced up at the clock. Nine-thirty. What time did an erotic boutique open? He could drop by, see if she was there. Beth ran the place, and if she was anything like Eric, that meant she got there early and stayed late.
Shifting, he looked around, hoping some responsibility would drop out of the sky and demand his attention. But his responsibilities were dwindling by the day. Jamie had taken over some and Tessa had assumed others. They didn’t need him the way they once had.
He knew where the White Orchid was. In fact, he probably could’ve driven there with his eyes closed, despite never having set foot in the place. It wasn’t that he’d purposefully driven by, but the store was only half a mile from the brewery, and it pulsed like a beacon in his mind. It reminded him. Of Beth and the fact that she was always so near.
Tessa was right. He needed to make amends, and then maybe Beth Cantrell would get out of his head for good.
BETH CAUGHT THE METAL flash of a car pulling up, but by the time she looked out the door, the car had driven past and she couldn’t see it. Kelly wasn’t supposed to be in until eleven, and they didn’t open for another twenty minutes.
She grimaced at the prospect of having to send an early customer away. The last time she’d done that, the guy had begged and pleaded, claiming to have some emergency that required massage oil right away.
That hadn’t convinced her to unlock the door and let him in.
And here was another man. Why was it always men who—?
“Oh, no,” she breathed, instinctively taking a step back. This wasn’t just a man with an early-morning erotic need. It was him. He—Eric, she reminded herself—looked like a man on a mission. Mouth set in a stern frown. Eyes narrowed against the sunlight. He took a deep breath and knocked on the glass, then shoved his hands into his pockets and waited.
Beth held her breath. She was only twenty feet away, but apparently he couldn’t see her through the slightly tinted glass. Thank God, because she had absolutely no interest in being seen.
He frowned a little harder and his head dropped, almost as if he could hear her thoughts. His nearly black hair glinted as the wind shifted it, and Beth looked away. She hated that she still found him so attractive.
His next knock startled her, and Beth jumped. The movement drew his eye, and suddenly he was looking right at her. Her heart stammered, and when he raised his hand in greeting, she shook her head.
Eric didn’t move.
“Damn it,” she whispered. She turned and faced away from him, eyeing her office as if it was sanctuary. But it wasn’t a very effective hiding place. She would have to unlock the front door in twenty minutes when the store opened, and Eric didn’t look like he was going anywhere.
She glanced down at her clothes, happy she hadn’t pulled on leggings and a sweatshirt this morning, as she’d been tempted to do. Instead she was wearing dark jeans and black patent heels. At least she could look good while she glared at him.
She took one deep breath before she turned around and strode toward the door. Eric didn’t smile or gloat. He simply watched her solemnly.
The lock slid quietly free, when she’d been hoping it would crack like a whip. “What do you want?” she asked through the small space she’d opened.
“I hoped we could talk.”
“No.”
“Please,” he pressed. “I know there’s no excuse, but I’d still like to explain. To apologize. Anything.”
He looked tired. And miserable. And still obnoxiously handsome in his cargo pants and black polo shirt. His gray-blue eyes held hers, as if he wanted her to see his sincerity.
And damn it, she could see it.
“Fine,” Beth snapped. “You can come in. But only for a minute. I’m working.” She opened the door wide to let him through and, as he passed, the faint scent of his soap hit her hard. Her knees actually went weak, as if she were leaving his bed again, her body limp with satisfaction.
She touched the door handle to ground herself in the present, then clicked the lock shut again.
She found him standing just a few feet inside, looking over the store as if it were a strange land he’d never visited. True enough, she supposed. The other brother was the one who’d come to the store with a girl.
For a moment, she just waited for him to turn around again, but as she shifted, crossing her arms and then uncrossing them, she realized she felt too vulnerable. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Didn’t know if she should look casual or tense or aggressive. So Beth walked past him and moved around the glass countertop to her normal station next to the cash register. It felt better to have two feet of counter between them.
Eric seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the back-to-school display. Admittedly, it was a little different from most. The mannequin was dressed in a white button-down shirt and a short black skirt, and she held a ruler in one hand as she peered above the tops of her black glasses. But the other hand held a whip, and her platform shoes were adorned with five-inch metal heels. Beth especially liked the shiny red apple that was perched on top of the sex-ed books at her feet. It was cute and wicked at the same time,
