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She tugged off her sunglasses and dropped them into the second cup holder. “Did old classmates tell you I’m a lawyer, too?”
“Uh.” Shit. So much for detachment. “I. Uh. I saw it somewhere. I forgot where.”
“Right.” She raised a brow. Her lips twitched at the corners. “Well, come on inside.”
She slid from the car with grace and poise. Jeremy, not so much—but he managed to get out under his own power, which was more than he’d been able to manage before the water. He was walking like a ninety-year-old man, but he was walking.
She closed the car door and looked at him. He straightened his shoulders.
“I’m okay. I feel better already.” He grinned—and immediately regretted it when his split lower lip stung. He felt something wet and warm trickle down his chin. Genius.
She winced. “I’ll believe that when you aren’t bleeding.”
She led him up the walk and inside. The carved, heavy oak door opened on hardwood floors. A crystal chandelier hung from the arched ceiling of the broad foyer. Expensive paintings lined the walls. Jeremy kept far away from them. He didn’t want to risk touching anything, and dirtying or damaging it irreparably. It was bad enough he was tracking sand into the polish on her floors.
He smoothed his shirt and tried to straighten it, then rubbed at a stain on his sleeve. Useless. If this were a restaurant, he’d be out on his ass. “Maybe I should go to my hotel after all. I’m going to leave dirt all over your house.”
“Please. I don’t care about that.
She rested one soft hand on his chest. Her touch tore through him like a gunshot and radiated all over his body. He swallowed.
“If you say so.”
She looked up at him. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking. It was what made her such a good lawyer, he thought, and what drove him mad. She could be on the verge of tears, and she’d never show it. He should be grateful, he thought. At least when she’d rejected him, she’d suppressed her disgust.
She abruptly drew back, dropped her gaze, and tossed her purse on a table just past the door. “Come on up. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”
“Shit. I don’t have any clothes. I’m a dumbass. Maybe we should head back to—”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to run away.” She sighed. “I have some of Tommy’s clothes here. Stop worrying, okay? You always did worry too much.”
She turned and walked toward the curving stairs, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Jeremy followed, but stopped at the foot of the stairs, curling his hand against the cool wrought-iron railing. He shouldn’t wear Tommy’s clothing. They weren’t friends anymore. Not after Tommy had believed Nicole’s lies about Jeremy seducing her. Not after Tommy had kicked his ass and spat on a bond that, to Jeremy, had been like family.
The only real family he’d ever had, and the only reason he’d let Tommy beat him bloody without ever once fighting back. Nothing could have hurt worse than what he’d lost that night.
He swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“He really won’t mind.”
“But I will.” He found his dog tags and gripped them tight, their pressure a familiar comfort against his palm. “He took her word over mine. He should have known better.”
She stiffened. “I know you’re upset, but this isn’t about that. It’s about getting you into a shower and clean clothes. Nothing else. So suck it up.”
“Suck it up?” He mounted the stairs until he stood at her side, looking down at her. “Did you really just tell me to suck it up?”
Her eyes narrowed. She tossed her head and lifted her chin. “Yes. I did.”
“You realize I’m a Marine, right?”
“Like that means anything? You’d never hurt me. I know that. I know you.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes met his without wavering. “Better than you think. Even if I’ve tried to forget.”
He stepped closer. Close enough to touch her, close enough to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she clung to him. Everything he’d dreamed of doing for years, and more. Everything her body heat begged him to do, teasing him with her nearness.
“Why do you want to forget me, Erica?”
