Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(29)

“I’ll have to move the boat to Hatteras Landing,” she said, her mind racing, trying to figure out the best way to cover their tracks. “I can’t leave it here all day.”

“I’ll arrange for a slip and pay for it,” he offered.

She raised her chin. “No, you will not.”

“Laire, I asked you on a date. I intend to pay.”

“Date starts when you pick me up at the marina at one thirty.”

“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“Okay, then,” she sighed, her eyes flitting hungrily to his lips.

“Thank God,” he murmured.

She wound her arms around his neck and let him pull her flush against his body, melting into a hot kiss and reveling in the feeling of his chest pushing into hers with every ragged breath he took. Her nipples beaded as though at his command, and she arched her back to get as close to him as possible. Plunging her fingers back into his thick dark hair, she moaned as he sucked on her tongue before changing the angle of their heads and resealing his lips over hers.

Her stomach filled with flutters as his hands moved down her back, his palms landing on her ass and squeezing gently as his tongue slid slowly against hers before he nipped her top lip between his. She was breathless when she suddenly realized his lips weren’t moving on hers anymore.

Opening her eyes slowly, she blinked up at his smiling face, feeling hot and bothered and needy.

“More,” she murmured, nuzzling his nose with hers.

“Open your eyes, Freckles,” he said, his breath ragged against her skin. She did, and his eyes, dark and wide, met hers. “Don’t tell me this won’t work. Don’t ever say that to me again.”

Her breath caught, but she nodded. “I won’t.”

His eyes fluttered closed, and he reached up to cup her cheeks. “Our rules, Laire.”

She rested her forehead against his. “Our rules, Erik.”

“Our rules,” he whispered again, then smiled, laughing softly with happiness, and she smiled with him, vibrating with wonder, leaning forward to press her lips to his and seal their promise.

***

Freshly showered and shaved and dressed in pressed red Nantucket shorts, a blue and white striped dress shirt with rolled cuffs, and Top-Siders, Erik hopped down the last two steps with a spring in his step. It was one o’clock on a bright sunny day, and he was going to spend the rest of it with his favorite girl.

“Well, my goodness, Mr. Handsome! You’re up late today!”

He pivoted around in the front vestibule to find his mother approaching from the living room, a huge vase of blue and white flowers in her hands.

“’Mornin’, Mother.”

She offered him her cheek, and he kissed it.

“It’s afternoon.”

“Slept in.”

“Makes your father see red, you know.”

“Good thing he’s spendin’ most of the summer in Raleigh, then.”

She smiled indulgently. “Looked over those law books he left for you?”

No. “Took a peek.”

“Better take more than a peek by the time he gets here next weekend,” she said, an edge in her cultured voice. “One more year at Duke, and then you’ll be in law school. Wouldn’t hurt to be a little prepared, now, would it?”

Hiding a grimace, he turned away from her, plucking his car keys from a bowl on the sideboard by the stairs.

“Headed somewhere?” she asked.

“Yep. Plans.”

“Where to?” He turned to grin at her, and she nodded knowingly. “I’d wager there’s a girl involved.”

“You’d win that bet, Mother.”

“Secret plans every night. Now today too,” she hummed. “Makes a mother wonder.”

He gave her a look. “Wonder what, exactly?”

“Who my handsome boy is headed off to meet at all hours of the day and night.” She giggled like a teenage girl. “I can only hope that it’s . . . Van?”

“Van?” he asked, so taken aback, he said her name like he hadn’t known her his whole life. His mother thought he was dating Van?

“Miss Vanessa Osborn, you scamp.”

“Oh.”

“You courtin’ her, Erik? I hope you’re bein’ a gentleman. Tillie and Reginald are old friends.”

She used an old, formal word like courting to be charming, but the reminder of their lifelong friendship with the Osborns held a warning. Shoot. She’d really been giving this some thought. Best nip it in the bud before it got out of control.

“No, mother, I’m not seein’ Van. I’m . . .”

As he stared at her expectant dark brown eyes, his voice trailed off, and he finished up this conversation in his head quickly. . . . dating a local fisherman’s daughter who I met while she was delivering crabs to my birthday party.

His chest pinched with misgivings.

Fuck. No.

What a scene she’d make. She’d forbid Erik to see Laire ever again. She’d lecture him about his place in the world and his parents’ expectations of him. She’d tell him in no uncertain terms that the governor’s son didn’t bed the local help. And yeah, all that would hurt his ears and suck in general, but he could handle his mother. That’s not what worried him.