Chapter Twenty-Four
Jay was always an early riser, but that Thursday morning he stayed in bed as long as he could, just watching Erin sleep. She looked so beautiful with her hair, gloriously tangled from a night of passionate lovemaking, streaming down on the pillow beside her. There was a little smile on her lips. Did she always smile when she was sleeping, or had he given her something to smile about? He liked the fact that he didn’t know yet, but over time, he hoped to find out.
He felt eyes on him and then realized their two dogs were standing, staring at him expectantly. How had he gone from a carefree bachelor to a man with a woman to make coffee for and two dogs to take care of?
He grinned. He didn’t know how, but he was darned happy and grateful it had happened. And it was all down to Erin.
He slipped out of bed so as not to wake her and whistled cheerfully as he headed downstairs to let the dogs out and put the coffee on. He was trying to decide what to make Erin for breakfast when he heard her footsteps behind him.
As Erin walked into the kitchen, her tousled hair falling around her shoulders, he saw with pleasure that she was wearing one of his shirts. It reached to mid-thigh and he was pretty sure she didn’t have anything else on. He was instantly aroused. He wanted nothing more than to take her again, there and then, on the kitchen island.
But as he looked into her beautiful eyes, he saw a slightly uncertain expression that made him suspect Erin wasn’t in the habit of waking up in someone else’s bed. It made him desire her even more, but he also found himself filled with a kind of tenderness. He was suddenly determined to protect her from all of life’s troubles, which was crazy. No one could do that, but the urge was so strong he was taken aback. He’d never felt like that for anyone before.
And then the urge to hoist her up onto the granite counter and say good morning in a very carnal way returned and he almost laughed at himself. Being in love was so confusing!
Keeping all those urges in check, he simply said, “Coffee?”
Erin visibly relaxed into a smile. “Only if you want me to live.”
Once they’d fallen back into that easy banter, everything seemed natural between them.
Both dogs came in and wished her a good morning, as though they hadn’t all spent the night together, and she took a moment to bend over and pet the pair, who practically swooned in ecstasy at the attention from their favorite woman. The second Jay finished making her coffee, he handed her the cup and kissed her. Her lips were soft and still warm with sleep.
She took a sip, murmured, “Yummy,” then set it down on the counter so she could kiss him again. This time, it was more urgent, as though sleep had kept their bodies apart for too long. He tasted the coffee on her lips and pulled her in tight.
“Good morning,” he said, low and sexy.
“Good morning.” Her smile was a little shy but very sweet.
He had a feeling breakfast was going to be delayed.
And then his phone rang. He was about to switch the ringer to silent, but then he saw it was Archer.
His stomach lurched. Here he was, kissing Arch’s half-dressed sister in the kitchen after his very clear warning to stay the hell away, but he had to pick up. Some habits died hard.
He made a slightly scared face at Erin as he answered. “Arch, my man, how’s it going?”
Erin’s eyes widened and a flash of panic crossed her face. She waved her hands in front of her, clearly signaling to him not to let her brother know that she was there. Of course he had zero intention of doing that, and was now feeling incredibly guilty about what had probably been the hottest and most beautiful night of his entire life.
He had done the very thing that Archer had ordered him not to do. And yet he could no more have stopped himself from falling for Erin Davenport than he could have stopped himself from adopting Nelson, or, come to that, breathing. Still, he would have to talk to Arch man to man. But not right now. This was far too new and fragile and he needed to make sure he and Erin were on a good footing before he went blabbing to Archer that he was in love with his sister. Erin should be the first person to hear those words said properly.
Okay, he might have hinted as much to Betsy, but that was different. Talking to Betsy was like talking to an ancient Greek goddess. Some kind of family Oracle. She was so wise and knowing and she just wanted the best for everyone.
And then he nearly dropped the phone. Love. He was so deeply in love. He needed to tell Erin exactly how he felt about her. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. But they had only spent one night together. He didn’t want to scare her off.
His thoughts were running away from him so fast, he was almost having trouble hearing what Archer was saying. Lucky thing it wasn’t complex wording over a new contract. Archer was inviting him to poker night with the boys. He had to focus. Fortunately, Erin had slipped out of the room. She’d taken her coffee and both dogs with her. Even Nelson, the turncoat. At least without her right there clouding his mind, he could focus. He’d deal with how to face Arch about it later.
Pulling his brain cells together, Jay said, “Right, poker. Friday night. I’m in.”
He was about to finish the call as abruptly as he could when Archer said, “So, how’s it going with the mystery woman?”
Jay gulped. He hadn’t a clue how to respond. He was a hustler, so he knew how to tell a story, but he was no liar. Especially not to someone as close to him as Arch. And yet, a new kind of joy was blooming in his chest as he owned up to the fact that he was in love with the greatest woman in the world. He wanted to run down to Archer’s house right now, face him man to man, and tell him what was going on. But not yet.
He circumnavigated the question by saying he’d tell Archer more in person and then changed the subject, claiming he needed to get back to a script he was working on. That much was true—there were several more pages that he and Erin could write upstairs in the bedroom.
But for some reason Archer was in a chatty mood today. It turned out that Tessa was out painting and the actor clearly had time on his hands. So they talked more about Shock Tactics and how soon he’d have to fly to Utah, where they were doing some of the filming. Jay promised to fly up and hang out on the set for a day. The script was coming along nicely for the Herschel Greenfield biopic and Archer also had some notes on that. Jay told him to send them over and he’d take a look. Then, finally, Arch ended the call himself.
Jay leaned back against the counter and let out a low whistle. His heart had been beating double time for the entire call. In choosing Erin to be the love of his life, he hadn’t made that life easy. Not with Archer, and he suspected not with the rest of her brothers either. They knew too much about him and his past relationships. But the point was, all that was in the past. He just had to make it very clear to everyone that being with Erin was a brand-new start for him. Like coming to Carmel-by-the-Sea, and buying this house, he felt as though he’d finally grown into himself. Finally arrived.
He couldn’t wait to tell Erin how he felt. With all that feverish lovemaking, he hadn’t got a chance to tell her he had to go back to LA for a couple of days. Now the thought of being separated from her for even an hour seemed unbearable. He considered telling her he loved her. Were either of them ready for that yet? He wasn’t sure. He’d play it by ear.
He raced upstairs, eager now for some intense and passionate farewell sex, after which she’d go to work and he’d get on with his day. He entered the bedroom, full of desire and excitement, only to find no one there. Not even the dogs. He frowned and looked around the room, wondering if she was in the shower, but the ensuite was empty too.
And then he realized there wasn’t a single trace of Erin left. No clothes, no watch, no hair tie. She had even made the bed. On the table beside the Barbara Hepworth sculpture was a handwritten note.
Dear Mr. Malone,
I apologize for leaving without a farewell. If you could please grant me a few days to ruminate on the latest development in the script, I would greatly appreciate your patience.
Sincerely,
Erin Davenport (Ms.)
He shook his head in disbelief. She’d gone!
He read the note again. As much as he loved their cute notes back and forth, the formal tone of this one made his heart sink. They should have been closer now they’d made love, but it felt as though their becoming intimate physically had made her pull back emotionally. That couldn’t be good.
A man with a smaller ego might have worried that she was trying to give him the brush-off. But Jay was pretty comfortable with his ego and with his appeal to women, and he also knew Erin very well. This was exactly like her—to take a moment, a step back, to think things through. It was one of the things he loved about her: she was a thinker. She didn’t rush into action, but instead took her time and contemplated the different aspects of every scenario.
He was going to have to make peace with the fact that she needed some space, when all he wanted was to put as little space between them as possible. The sooner he got used to not having things as quickly as he wanted them, the better.
That was the old Jay. The new one was patient and understanding.
He couldn’t help a tiny smile as he thought about last night. No wonder she wanted a moment to reflect—they’d rushed into intimacy with one another, and he imagined that acting on impulse was probably uncomfortable for Erin. She could use words like ruminate all she liked, but she’d been as hot and desperate for him last night as he had been for her. He didn’t have to worry about whether she was into him or not.
Although he’d obviously rather be having some seriously hot good-bye sex right about now, he gave the rounded top of the Hepworth a little pat and whistled a tune from an old Western movie as he got into the shower. Erin wasn’t fickle. If she’d turned up at his door, kissed him, and then had a glorious night of sex with him, it was because she had feelings for him. And if he could be the man she gave him the courage to be, then just maybe she could fall as hard for him as he had for her.
Besides, there were ways he could show her that she was on his mind without encroaching on her space.
So, bag packed and Nelson in tow, Jay left for the airport with a plan to make a quick stop at the Sea Shell office. His private jet was waiting at Monterey, and he was very curious to see what Nelson would think about his first flight. At least, he assumed it was Nelson’s first flight; Nelson wasn’t big on sharing his past and Jay respected that. He suspected Nelson’s past and his own were kind of similar. They were both scrappy outcasts who’d managed to make good, mostly by the sheer force of their personality.
Entering the newspaper’s office, Jay was glad that in the haze of all that sex, he’d remembered that Erin said she was working from home in the morning to finish an article. He was carrying a handwritten note, one he hoped would show her he understood her need for space, but was also very much available when she was ready to talk.
The office was exactly as he’d pictured: small and cozy, with piles of paper and huge computer screens on each desk. The receptionist greeted him warmly and he told her he was just leaving a note for Erin Davenport. He fished the envelope out of his pocket and was about to hand it over and leave, when he saw a tall woman with cropped hair walking purposefully toward him, her gray slacks making a slight swish as she crossed the room.
She extended a hand as she neared and said, “Pat Sinclair, the Sea Shell ’s editor. Nice to meet the man behind the profile.”
Jay smiled and shook her hand. She had a firm grip. Everything about Pat Sinclair was alert—from her sharp, clear eyes to her military posture—and he liked her immediately. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, meaning it.
“Thank you for allowing the Sea Shell to profile you. I know you’re a busy man and we appreciate your taking the time out of what must be a busy schedule.”
“Anytime,” he said, realizing he meant it. He’d be happy to help out the local paper in any way he could. “Erin Davenport did a fine job.”
Pat nodded briskly. “The Sea Shell is lucky to have her. I’ve offered to introduce her to people at The New York Times , or even one of the big magazines, because she’s one of the finest writers I’ve ever come across,” Pat confided. “But she doesn’t want to move. She likes it here, and you have to respect somebody that young knowing so clearly what they want.”
Since Jay had read every article Erin had written in the last two years, he absolutely agreed that she was a fine writer and could turn her hand to any assignment at any number of places. But he was secretly pleased to have his own observations confirmed. Not that he couldn’t work pretty much from anywhere, but when he looked ahead at a future where Erin and he were together—ever since this morning he couldn’t seem to think of anything else—Carmel felt like the perfect place for them to call home.
He asked Ms. Sinclair to give Erin the note when she arrived, and the woman said she would. She might have the instincts of a hard-nosed news reporter, but he was fairly certain she wouldn’t open the note and read the contents. Even if she did, it wasn’t the end of the world, but he liked Pat and trusted his instinct about her. And then, with a final wave, he walked out.
As the door was closing behind him, he heard the receptionist say, “Who was that?”
Pat Sinclair chuckled. “Down, girl. I think he’s taken.”
He bit back a smile. Pat Sinclair didn’t miss much. And he very much hoped she was right.