Кристи Голд – The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire: The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire (страница 17)
Fair or not, he wasn’t about to offer his opinion for fear of screwing up again and suffering Erica’s wrath. “That’s between you and your mom, kiddo.”
Erica pointed toward the hall. “Go, Stormy.”
Stormy blew out an exaggerated breath. “Okay. But I still don’t think it’s fair.”
After Stormy left, Kieran couldn’t help but chuckle. “She’s pretty damn headstrong, isn’t she?”
Erica released a humorless laugh. “You could say that. On one hand, it drives me nuts. On the other, her tenacity’s gotten her through some really tough times. I just wish she’d learn a little moderation.”
“Moderation is good,” he said. “So was dinner.”
She leaned forward, braced an elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. “Was it? I thought the fish was kind of dry.”
A little, but he wasn’t going to say anything to hurt her feelings. “It was fine. Best fish I’ve had in a long time.” The only fish he’d had in years.
“Do you think I’m being too protective about the party?”
He could lie and guarantee a pleasant remainder of the evening, or he could be truthful and possibly be prematurely asked to leave. “How old are the boys?”
“Mostly eleven-year-olds, I’d guess.”
“Eleven-year-old boys aren’t too bad. Twelve is another story altogether.”
She smiled, bringing her dimples into full view. “I suppose you should know since you were one once.”
“A long time ago, but I still remember some of it.” Especially the memories that involved sticking up for his brother on the playground, before Kevin had finally caught up in size to everyone else his age and started fighting his own battles.
“Then you think she’d be okay if I let her go?”
He didn’t particularly care for being put on the spot, but since she’d asked…“I think you should trust her to make the right decisions. She’s a smart kid with a good head on her shoulders.”
Erica leaned back against the chair and sighed. “But it seems so important to her to fit in. I worry that peer pressure could lead her to make the wrong decisions. On the way home from the club Saturday night, she actually asked me about kissing. She’s not even eleven yet.”
That could mean only one thing. “She didn’t happen to see—”
“I don’t think so,” Erica said. “In fact, I know she didn’t. Otherwise, she would’ve asked me point-blank why we were…” Her gaze drifted away. “You know.”
Oh, yeah, he knew. He’d thought about that kiss more than once tonight. Watching Erica eat hadn’t helped. She had an incredible mouth that he’d like to know much better. And if he didn’t get his mind back on track, he might end up making the same mistake again. “As far as Stormy and this party goes, I understand you have her best interests at heart, but I also know from experience that if you keep the hold on her too tight, she’ll rebel. My mother went through the same thing with Kevin. She was overprotective to a fault, and the backlash wasn’t good.”
Erica looked as stiff as a steel beam, and royally ticked off. “I believe I’m perfectly justified in my concern for her. And it’s not as if I don’t let her go anywhere.”
“That’s true, and I strongly believe in structure where kids are concerned. But Stormy’s desire to play softball and attend a boy-girl party isn’t the same as her asking if she can spend spring break in Cancun.”
Erica rubbed both hands over her face. “Thanks for reminding me what I have to look forward to in a few years.” She dropped her palms onto the table and stood. “Since I don’t want to think about that now, let’s move on to the suffering you’re going to put me through. Otherwise, I’m going to get to bed late.”
He’d prefer she not mention the word
“In the family room,” she said as she headed out of the kitchen.
He followed her down the hall, and once in the den, he took a quick look around. “We need to move the furniture back.”
“Okay. You take the coffee table and I’ll take the chair.”
While he pushed the table closer to the sofa that rested against one wall, Erica moved behind the chair and pulled it back toward the window. She glanced over her shoulder and laughed.
“What’s so funny this time?” he asked.
“I just realized that anyone driving by got an up-close-and-personal view of my butt. I hope the home-owner’s association doesn’t fine me for contributing to an eyesore. They have strict rules about abandoned cars, overgrown lawns, large posteriors in picture windows.”
For some reason, the comment brought about Kieran’s anger. “This whole self-deprecating thing you have going on about your body—you need to stop it. If you could see what I see every day at the club, people who are in a life-and-death struggle to lose massive amounts of weight, then you’d realize you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
She looked sufficiently contrite. “Sorry. Old habits are hard to break.”
“I know,” he said, his voice much calmer than before. “And I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.”
“Not a problem. Someone needs to keep me in line.”
Determined to get back down to business, Kieran walked to the foyer where he’d left his equipment bag and returned to find Erica standing at the shelves, studying the photo of her husband. Aside from the deaths of his elderly grandparents over a span of several years, he’d never experienced much loss. He didn’t know how she’d coped with everything she’d been through. Yeah, he did know—by keeping her sense of humor. And that only made him feel worse about his earlier outburst.
After setting the bag aside, he moved behind her and surveyed the photo she continued to hold in her grip. “Must be tough, all the reminders.”
After setting the picture back in place, she turned and gave him a tentative smile. “Sometimes they provide comfort. I was just thinking about how Jeff used to tell me the same thing you just told me. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. So from this point forward, I vow to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself that I’m special. As long as I’m not naked.”
Yeah, some habits were hard to break, and it could take some time for her to break them, Kieran realized. In the meantime, he’d cut her some slack. “All kidding aside, let’s get started.”
“I’m game. Where do we begin?”
Kieran rifled through the bag and withdrew two hand weights. “We’ll start with these. Five pounds each. Just a few curls.”
Erica did as he instructed without complaining at all. She fully cooperated as he put her through several exercises, including five full-out sprints up and down the driveway, followed by the notorious crunches that had gotten them into trouble during their last session. Only this time, he used his voice, not his hands, to encourage her.
After she’d done two sets of twenty, he told her, “Stand up. I want you to do one more thing, then we’re done for the night.”
She came to her feet and tugged her bulky sweatshirt down over her hips. “Don’t tell me. You want me to bench-press the couch.”
He couldn’t stop his grin. “No. I want you to put your hands on my chest and try to resist me.”
She returned his smile. “Bet you say that to all the women you know.”
“Just do what you’re told without the commentary.”
She gave him a sharp, one-handed salute. “Yes, sir.”
He balled his fists against his chest. “Grab my hands, angle your body away and don’t let me move.”
“Oh, sure. Why don’t we go outside and I’ll push your Porsche around the block?”
“We’ll try that next week, and next week will be here if you don’t get started.”
“Fine, but don’t expect too much.”
When she clasped his hands and delivered only a minimal push, he firmed his frame and pushed back. “Harder, Erica.”
“I’m trying.” And she did try, but not enough for his liking.
“Keep going,” he demanded. “You’re not using your legs.”
Scowling, she regrouped and tried again, and he continued to prod her. “Push harder. Don’t let me come forward. Not even an inch. Pretend you’re fending me off because your life depends upon it.”
Erica unexpectedly stopped, straightened, and before Kieran could level his next command, she planted her mouth on his. All his prior thoughts of right and wrong went by the wayside, thanks to her boldness, her man-killing lips and her unmistakable enthusiasm. She kissed him with no holds barred, adequately robbing him of any remaining scrap of free will.
He recognized he shouldn’t put his arms around Erica, but he did—shouldn’t actively participate, but he did that, too. If he didn’t stop now, he was in danger of taking her down on the sofa where anything could happen, and most likely would. But before he tossed out all common sense, Erica abruptly ended the kiss and took a step back, her eyes wide with the surprise he was also experiencing at the moment.
He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “What the hell was that?”
She shrugged. “I failed to resist you. Or maybe I was trying to shut you up.”
“It worked.”
“Yes, it did, and quite well I might add.”
Damn, he didn’t know whether to reprimand her or thank her. “You only have to tell me to be quiet.”
“Oh. I never even considered that.” She finished off the comment with a smile to beat all smiles, putting her dimples back on display.