Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(28)

“No,” she insisted, looking up at him, one of the rose’s thorns biting into her skin as she clutched it tighter in her fist. “You don’t understand. You can’t, Erik. There would be q-questions and rumors and—”

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks and forcing her eyes to look into his. “I like you. I really like you. I know we’ve only known each other for a week, but I only want to be with you this summer. No one else.”

Even though this conversation was tricky and upsetting, she allowed herself a moment of pleasure that he wanted to be with her only because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone but him.

“Do you want to spend time with me, Laire?”

“Yes,” she whispered, unable to look up at him.

“Then why can’t I come to Corey and pick you up for a date?”

“Because it’s . . . it’s complicated.”

“Wait a second,” said Erik. “Does your family know about me? Do they know we’re seein’ each other?”

She gulped, forcing herself to look up at him as she shook her head.

“Oh,” he said softly. He sighed, and she heard a hint of hurt in his voice when he said, “I’m a secret, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, her heart racing, her fingers tightening around the thorny stem. One of many.

She still hadn’t had a chance to tell her father that she was working in Hatteras, not Ocracoke, although Kyrstin, who was happily waiting bar, was turning out to be a master of deception, lying to their father with a finesse that should have scared Laire. But they’d have to come clean sooner or later, wouldn’t they? She’d more or less promised herself to tell him right after Kyrstin and Remy’s wedding next weekend. He’d be good and mad, but maybe she could convince him to let her keep her job when he understood the kind of money she was making.

That said, more and more, keeping her job was the least of her worries.

He would blow a gasket if he found out she was dating a dingbatter . . . and kissing him every chance she got, pushing the envelope between what was allowed and what was indecent. Not to mention, a dingbatter was bad enough, but a dingbatter who also happened to be the governor’s son? Her father was a man of few words, but none of those words were especially fond of big government and the way rules were made in Raleigh that affected folks minding their business in the Outer Banks.

Her heart started racing as she thought about her father’s reaction to her dating Erik Rexford. It would be a disaster of epic proportions.

“. . . not sure how I feel about being a secret,” he was saying, his voice thoughtful, with an unmistakably sour edge. “It makes me feel like we’re doin’ somethin’ wrong when we’re not.”

Except, by her way of thinking and the values with which she’d grown up, they were. They were doing something very wrong. It’s just . . . she couldn’t seem to help herself. Her feelings for Erik were deeper and more intense every day.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiggling to disengage from his arms, the rose losing petals as she pushed against his chest. She perched on the tip of his knee, her back ramrod straight, facing away from him, staring out at the black Pamlico. “It won’t work.”

“The date?” he bit out. “Or . . . us?”

She shrugged miserably as a trickle of blood ran down the length of her thumb.

“You’re bleedin’,” said Erik, putting his hands on her waist and swiveling her effortlessly to face him again. His expression was stony, his voice hurt. He reached for her hand and gently unfurled her fingers. Taking the rose from her grip, he threw it to the ground beside them, then lifted her palm to his mouth, sealing his lips over the puncture and sucking.

His tongue swirled around the small hole as he tenderly tried to kiss away her pain, to no avail. Finally he looked up at her, his thumb sealing the small puncture as he searched her eyes and spoke gently.

“Darlin’, I come here every night to be near you. I live for sunset like a vampire because that’s when my heart starts beatin’ each day, when I grab the keys to the car or boat and race over here to be with you. It makes me crazy all day to be away from you because I want more. I want to talk for hours and kiss you and find out what makes you laugh and . . . Damn it, Laire, this isn’t enough.”

A moment of panic swept through her, and she wondered, for a heart-stopping moment, if he was about to tell her that he wouldn’t be coming by anymore. And in that moment, she knew that, no matter how much it scared her to imagine her family finding out that she was seeing Erik Rexford, she would risk it. She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t let that happen, and if it meant she had to bend, had to take a chance that frightened her, she’d take it.

Their stolen moments every evening weren’t enough for her either. She wanted more time just as much as he did. Our own rules. They could figure this out together, right?

Before she lost her nerve, she leaned into him, pressing her aching breasts against his chest and reaching up to caress his cheek. “I could meet you Sunday after work. I’m only working the brunch shift, from seven to one. I’ll be free for the rest of the day, and my father won’t expect me back until eleven.”

“I have a car,” he said, his eyes lighting up with happiness, and her heart clutched, then sang, with the knowledge that her words, her actions, had made him smile like that. “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”