Where He Belongs. Gail Barrett
Besides, what would Wade do in Millstown with Norm gone?
An image of Erin’s sagging porch came to mind. Hell. Was that what this was about?
Anger flared, then slammed through his gut. Did Erin know about this arrangement? Had she schemed with Norm behind his back? Just what the hell was she up to?
He thought of her sweet body pressed to his back, her gentle voice in the dark, and his fury abruptly deflated. No, Erin hadn’t done this. She would never manipulate him that way. Norm had hatched this plot alone.
But that still didn’t mean that he liked it.
The phone trilled across the noisy room. “Hey, Wade,” someone called a moment later. “It’s Ed from the funeral home again.”
Still seething, he dumped his remaining coffee in the sink and slammed the cup in the trash. He’d deal with the funeral parlor. And the paper. And the courthouse, and anything else that he had to.
He’d been boned from the bottom. He didn’t have a choice.
But damned if he would stay in Millstown one minute longer than it took to settle that will. Not one second longer. No matter what Norm had in mind.
Early that evening, with both his knee and skull now hammering, Wade returned to Mills Ferry. He hauled himself up the stairs, intending to gulp down some painkillers and crash into bed.
“Do you have a minute, Wade?”
He stopped partway up the stairs and looked down. Erin stood in the foyer, her red hair shimmering in the light. She clasped her hands together. “I need to talk to you, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” He trudged back down the stairs. She probably wanted to talk about Norm. He hoped she cut it short. He didn’t want to chat after making funeral arrangements all day.
“Grandma’s watching TV in the parlor, so why don’t we talk in the kitchen?”
“Fine.” He glanced into the small front room as he passed. The older woman sat in an armchair, wrapped in a colorful quilt.
He limped behind Erin toward the kitchen. Despite the pain ramming his skull, he appreciated the view. Her tight, faded jeans hugged her lushly curved bottom and highlighted the flare of her hips.
Then she leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms, and his gaze lodged on her breasts, just as it always had in high school. The corner of his mouth kicked up. She’d driven him crazy back then. He’d spent years in a haze of lust, imagining how she’d look and feel naked.
But no fantasy had matched the reality of Erin. The taste of her delicate skin. The satiny feel of her breasts. And when he’d been inside her…
He shifted, swallowed hard. “Dinner smells good.”
She flashed a nervous smile. “I made chicken enchiladas. I hope you like Mexican food.”
“I like anything I can eat.”
“It’s nothing fancy. I’m not that great a cook.”
Why did she need to apologize? “Believe me, I’m not picky. I’m a smokejumper, remember?”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Constant hunger. Even ratted C-rations look good after a few days working a fire.” He tugged the waistband of his jeans, which had ridden low on his hips. “You can’t eat enough to keep the weight on. That’s why my jeans are so loose.”
Her gaze skimmed down his chest to his waist. And then lower. Her cheeks flushed and hot desire lashed his groin.
Thrown off guard, he pulled out a chair and sat. The abrupt movement jolted his knee but he welcomed the distraction. “So what did you want to talk about?”
Her forehead furrowed. “There’s something you need to know. Norm lent me some money a while back. Quite a bit, actually. Ten thousand dollars.
“Grandma’s accident generated a lot of bills,” she continued. “Medicare covered most of them, but she doesn’t have a supplement, so the extras added up. The drugs alone cost a fortune. And then there’s this house.” She sighed. “I love it, but it’s an absolute money pit. Everything’s breaking and rotting away. And then the roof started leaking and I had to have it repaired. It really needs to be replaced, but—”
“Erin, why are you telling me this?”
She sighed, more heavily this time. “Because I can’t pay it back. Not yet, anyway. I will, but I—”
“Forget it.”
“What?”
“I said forget it. Norm’s dead. He doesn’t need the money.”
“But—”
“Look, I read the will today and he left almost everything to me. And I don’t want the money.” Or the delay collecting the debt would cause. He stood.
“Wade, did you hear me? I said I owe you ten thousand dollars.”
“And I said I don’t need it.”
“But everybody needs—”
“Listen. I make good money at what I do, and I rake in the overtime pay.” He shrugged. “And I don’t have many expenses. Maybe I’m not rich by some standards, but I’m sure as hell not poor.”
She shook her head. “Even if I wanted to let you forget it—and I certainly don’t—you might not have a choice. I don’t know much about settling estates, but I don’t think you can just write off a debt like that.”
“So I’ll take the money out of my account and put it into Norm’s. What difference does it make?”
“It makes a difference to me.”
“Erin, Norm gave the money to you.”
“He lent the money to me. There’s a difference.”
“Well, I don’t want the money, so just forget it.” He started toward the door.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She stalked into his path and put out her hand to block him. “Stop right there! Just stop! You are not going to do this. I absolutely won’t let you.”
He frowned down at her. “Not do what?”
“Riding in here like some knight in shining armor, throwing your money around to solve my problems, and then bolting away again.”
Her green eyes blazed at him. She was actually angry. Because he didn’t want her money? Or because he was going to leave?
Dread spiraled through his gut. “This is about that night at the river, isn’t it?”
“What?” she gasped.
“You’re mad because I left.”
“I am not!”
He plunged his hand through his hair. “Erin, I couldn’t stay in Millstown.”
“And I never asked you to.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I knew all along you were leaving. You’d talked about it for months. So don’t you dare put that guilt on yourself. Don’t you dare! I knew exactly what I was doing.”
She sure did. She’d excited him out of his mind and he’d fantasized about it ever since.
Color rode high on her cheeks. “I was the one who suggested it, if you recall. And I got what I wanted.”
“What? A night of sex?”
“That’s right.”
His own temper flared. It had been a hell of a lot more than that and she knew it.
And it had scared him to death.
He stilled. Is that why he’d rushed off? Because he couldn’t