“Thank you for not telling Mr. Zatloka about my background.”
“Didn’t seem any need. You keep up the good work, son.”
They shook hands and Ramirez got into his car.
Cole started down the driveway, making himself nod when the car came even with him. He was glad to have an excuse not to see Erin for a while. This supervisory visit brought up a lot of conflicted feelings. He needed to think about those emotions, come to terms with them. But he wasn’t as angry as he’d expected to be. In fact, among all the negative shit he was feeling, there was a small warm spot. It had something to do with saying aloud where he wanted to go with his life, but also with Ramirez sounding up front when he said what he had. I think you’re going to make it, Cole.
Damn straight, he was.
He needed to call his sister. Say Hi, say I’m doing okay. Tonight, even if it meant borrowing Erin’s phone.
* * *
ERIN CAUGHT HERSELF glancing out the window way more often than she should have as she watched for Cole to come home. It truly was a coincidence, though, that she’d gone out to get something from the Jeep when she turned her head to see him striding up the driveway.
Would he think she’d been lying in wait for him?
Weren’t you?
“Hi. Um, I left some paint samples in the car.”
His expression remained impassive. No telling whether he was mad, depressed, had been fired or had put Ramirez’s visit out of his mind.
Oh, to heck with it. “I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner. The house smells like fresh paint, but if you don’t mind that…”
His answer hung in the balance. She could almost see the gears spinning. Finally, he said, “Thanks. Let me get cleaned up first.”
“Okay. Good.” She was about to race for the house to accelerate meal preparations, but then she remembered those paint samples. She did want to make a decision tonight.
Five minutes later, he showed up, for once not knocking. The first she knew, he’d opened the door and called, “Erin?”
“In the kitchen.” When she heard his footsteps, she said, “It’s spaghetti again. I hope you liked it.”
“It was great. Anything I can do?”
He always asked. She had him pour drinks and get the garlic bread out of the oven while she dumped the spaghetti into a colander and dodged the steam that leaped up.
Not until they sat down did she say, “So, how’d it go with Ramirez?”
He gave her another of his unreadable looks from those cool blue eyes. “Okay.” Pause as he ladled sauce over his spaghetti. “Probably thanks to you.”
Which he no doubt loved. She shrugged, as if unaware of how he must feel about her involvement, and said, “I told him the truth. You’ve done a great job. You’re a nice man. You haven’t held any wild parties.”
“Did you ask him not to tell the Zatlokas I’m an ex-con?”
“Yes.” And what was wrong with that?
He nodded and started eating.
Erin didn’t even pick up her fork.
After a minute, he paused with a bite halfway to his mouth. “You want to know what he said?”
“Yes!” She subsided. “Well, if it was important. I mean, was he satisfied?”
Some expression flickered in his eyes. “Yeah. He seemed…pleased.”
“He should be!”
Cole’s face relaxed almost into a smile. “Did you chew him out for doubting me?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
He gave a quiet chuckle. “Yeah, a little.”
“Oh.” His smile made her skin feel tight and tingly. And warm, too, which undoubtedly meant she was blushing.
“Thank you.” He was suddenly serious. “I mean that.”
Her cheeks were downright hot now. “You’re welcome. You’ve done amazing things around here.” Hating the huskiness in her voice, she said, “I feel lucky to have found you.”
He shook his head in automatic repudiation, but didn’t actually argue. Instead, they looked at each other, neither taking a bite. The air felt electric, and his eyes were a brighter blue than usual. All she heard was the rush of her heartbeat.
What if I asked… There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t always understand male pride, but she did know that he had to make the choice to come to her, and that would happen only if he overcame the obstacles he kept tripping over.