The Russian Billionaire’s Secret(172)

“I was hoping you would,” she grinned as she walked into the kitchen.

Once inside the kitchen, she waited a few moments before opening the fridge. She wanted to give Eric a moment to collect himself. If she knew him better she'd offer a listening ear, but didn't want to over step herself. Sure, he may have had the nightmare on her sofa, but she had only met him hours before.

After enough time had passed, she grabbed a beer for Eric and a bottle of water for herself and headed back into the living room. Eric was sitting with his eyes closed and his long legs stretched out in front of him. His arms rested behind his head. She watched the muscles of his chest and stomach slowly rise and fall. One day, he was going to make a very lucky woman a very happy wife.

She sat down next to him and he opened his eyes. He grinned at her revealing a dimple on either side of his mouth.

“You have beer, but you don't drink?” he said motioning to the bottle of water as she handed off the beer.

“I do drink,” she laughed, “just not when I have to go to a party where I don't know most of the people.”

“We should switch,” he laughed. “I'll pretend I don't know any of them and you can go around acting like you know everyone and get pissed off when they insist they don't know you.”

“What are we having a contest of who can win their white jacket first?”

“It might be quieter in a padded room than at home right now.”

“Maybe we can sneak out early.”

“I like how you think,” Eric laughed and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers.

The party was worse than Celeste imagined it was going to be. It was standing room only and even then she couldn't move her arms to take a drink without touching someone else. She had planned to be a wallflower and just wait it out to the end, but Eric wasn't having any of it.

As he was ushered around by his mother to talk to relatives and old friends, he took Celeste along for the trip. There were plenty of hushed voices of people reminding one another not to bring up the war or what he might had seen across sea.

Eric gave her a knowing look and all she could do was roll her eyes at them sympathetically. His mother had outdone herself with dinner and kept offering Eric seconds and thirds. When desert finally arrived, most of the party goers were a couple beers in and had forgotten their vows not to bring up things he might not want to discuss.

“So were the locals as bad as the news say?” an uncle asked.

“Did you kill anyone?” a teenage boy asked from across the table.

“You guys leave him alone,” an old man warned. “You don't bother him about the enemy. That's not the men who deserve to be remembered. You wanna hear stories you ask him about the men who served with him and gave their lives for this country.”

“Actually, Grandpa, I don't want to talk about them either. I don't want to talk about any of it.”

“People are going to keep asking until you give them answers.”

“Well, screw them, and screw you all too,” he said standing up.

Celeste reached out to touch his arm, but pulled away before she did. They weren't a couple. They were friends at best and near strangers. Eric took her hand before it reached the table. Her heart skipped beat as his strong warm fingers entwined through hers.

“We're leaving,” he said.

She stood up and his mother looked from him to her. Her eyes pleading with Celeste to smooth things over.

“But you haven't finished dessert, Eric,” the older woman says.

“I'll take it with me,” Eric said lifting an entire pie in his free hand.

He led Celeste out the backdoor and across their lawns until they reached her porch. His grip was firm, but gentle.

“I hope that offer for the keys to your liquor cabinet is still good.”

“Only if you share your pie,” she grinned at him and unlocked the door.

She laid the keys to the cabinet on the kitchen table and stepped out of her shoes. Eric rested his hands against the counter and took deep breaths.

“Can I touch you?” Celeste said gently reaching out a hand.

He didn't look at her, but nodded. She wrapped her arms around his stomach and rested her head on his back. His body trembled and she held him tighter. A few minutes later, he turned to face her and she took a step back.

“Sorry, I'm walking all over your hospitality and I just met you today.”

“Don't be,” she smiled. “You brought pie.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Are you being nice because you feel sorry for me?”

“I don't do pity, Eric,” she said. “I do respect and maybe even admiration for the men who serve our country, but I don't do pity.”

“Thanks,” he nodded.

“Besides not many women could pass up the chance to eat a whole pie with a sexy marine,” she winked at him as he sat down at the table.

“So that's your plan then,” he chuckled. “You're going to get me drunk and seduce me.”

“No, Eric, if I seduced, you'd be sober so you could remember every little thrilling moment.”

He tensed and Celeste instantly regretted what she said.