As he pulled into the driveway in front of the clinic, the first thing he noticed was the hot blonde sitting on the front steps. It took him an extra second to realize it was Katrin.
Poor Erik. Poor thing.
All that good, hard work was lost in the space of three seconds as inconvenient, unwanted feelings came rushing back, making his blood race hot and vibrant through his body, making his skin tingle and his cheeks turn pink, his eyes narrow with the force of his attraction to her. In three seconds, he was right back where he was when he left her a week ago.
Her hair was golden and shiny, falling around her shoulders in blonde waves, and she used her sunglasses as a hair band to pull it back from her face. The jeans she was wearing seemed a little more filled out than the last time he had seen her a week ago, making her luscious ass as pert and distracting as ever. And was it his imagination, or were her breasts a little fuller under that tight, white, V-neck sweater that just brushed the top of her jeans, teasing him with a brief peek at her flat, pale tummy when she jumped up from the stairs?
As she got closer, he could see her lips were light pink and glossy, and silver bracelets on her tiny wrist made a cheerful clinking sound as she moved, which she did, from the porch stairs to his car window in a graceful little sprint, until there she was, right beside him, peeking her not-at-all-plain face into his car, little fingers holding onto the window frame.
His whole body tightened in response to being near her again and he suppressed a groan.
Lord help me if Dr. Love has anything at all to do with your beautiful smile.
Lord help him.
“Älskling,” he whispered, lowering his sunglasses slowly, taking in her pretty hair and bright cerulean eyes up close, and trying to remember how to breathe.
My God, I am in trouble.
“Erik! You’re here.”
“I’m here.” Those dimples. His breath came out in a low whistle. “Skidoo Bay agrees with you.”
“I guess so, Minste.” She stepped away so he could get out of the car, pushing her hands into her back pockets, which drew her shoulders back and thrust her chest forward. He stared desperately at her eyes.
Oh, man. Please quit it with that, or I’m not going to be able to stay focused on your face.
He shook his head to clear it and got out of the car, leaning back against his door.
She looked him up and down quickly then raised her eyebrows lightly with a teasing smile. “Looks like Kalispell agrees with you, too.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmm.”
“Well, we survived our first week apart, huh?” Katrin looked a little surprised, and Erik stumbled to clarify his meaning. “Apart from our families. From home. From our homes.” She gave him a cock-eyed grin, and he swallowed uncomfortably, looking up at the clinic building. “So…Donde está Don Juan?”
“José? I don’t know. He’s around here somewhere. Want me to get him? So you can say hello?”
“No!” he blurted out. Sassy little thing. “I mean, no need to bother him. Maybe I’ll say hey later when I bring you home.”
“Sure.” She grinned. “So! What’s the plan?”
How about we go up to your room and spend the afternoon in your bed? How about that could be the plan?
“Take a stroll? Sunday supper?”
She nodded. “Sounds good. I promised to meet José for the concert in the park at six.”
Ouch. That stung. “Wow, really packing us in back-to-back, huh? Hope I’m not cramping your style, Kat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dinner with me, concert with him? Who’s your eight o’clock date, Alley Kat?”
“You’re rude!” She slapped his arm playfully. “It’s not a date. Paca—er, Gabrielle will be there too, so it’s more like a work thing.”
Work thing. Yeah. He pictured José in his white, muscle t-shirt from last week, and felt his jaw get tight. Oh, I’m sure he’s working it.
She raised her eyebrows again and put her hands in her pockets. “Anyway, this isn’t a date, is it, Erik? Just family friends having a bite. Basically, your weekly reconnaissance mission for Ingrid, right?”
He looked down, kicking the dirt with a beat-up topsider.
I have no idea.
If she had asked him twenty minutes ago, he would have said Yes, just checking on poor, plain little Katrin for Ingrid, and it would have been the truth. But, looking at her now, so vibrant and pretty? The only certain truth was that he wanted to take her hand and spend the rest of the afternoon lost in her. Beyond that, he was lost.
Avoiding her eyes, Erik reached out tentatively, gently brushing her hip with his knuckles as he pulled at her wrist, slipping his fingers through hers once her hand was free of her pocket. She didn’t say anything or resist him, but he noticed it took a moment before her fingers relaxed and the tips folded over to meet his knuckles. Only then did he look up at her face.
Her eyes were serious at first but softened with a shy smile, tilting her head to the side, as if she were trying to figure him out.
“Can we just—” he started, and then stopped.
Can we just what? Can we just hold hands and do anything else that comes naturally without any labels or promises or expectations? Can we forget that our
