Katrin raised her eyebrows at him then looked at the water, breathing in, crossing her legs away from him, toward the inlet. “Well, I’m not. Easy.”
“Clearly.”
“Clearly? What does that mean? Cold? Unattractive?” Her back was up. Clearly? Clearly she was the sort of girl a man would leave at the altar? Clearly she wasn’t as hot for him as he was for her? You’re wrong there, Erik. Clearly what?
“You’re going to be insulted that I don’t think you’re easy?” He regarded her thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side, sexy smile returning slyly. Her insides went to mush, in riot, with the way he was looking at her, like she was something that he wanted, and having her was just a matter of time. “Unattractive? Now that’s just ridiculous. Cold? No, Kat. You’re not cold. But, you’re the marrying kind.”
“I was,” she answered simply.
He reached over and took her hand, turning it over, rubbing her palm with the pad of his thumb. “You are.”
His thumb moved in circles, and she felt that warmth start in her tummy again, coursing through her veins, feeding all the channels of her body with heat. Toes, fingertips, the shell of her ear, her nipples, her—
She wanted to close her eyes, shut out the rest of the world, the restaurant, the lake, the town, even Erik, who was so complicated, so damaged. She just wanted to concentrate on the feelings being generated from his simple touch, mesmerizing her with every rotation, pulling her toward him, closer to him, to a very, very bad decision.
Erik pulled his hand away abruptly and spoke tersely. “And I’m not.”
Katrin nodded, biting her lower lip, longing for his touch again, hoping he wouldn’t see it in her eyes. Erik lifted his glass of water and smiled at Katrin.
“To getting what we want.”
Have it your way, Erik. She smiled back. “And to friendship.”
Katrin was fairly sure she noticed a slight narrowing of his eyes before they clinked glasses and sipped.
Chapter 6
She tried to pay for her share, but he wasn’t having that.
And when she said he could just drop her off at the entrance to the park, he had insisted he would walk her all the way in to meet her friends.
If he was honest with himself, he’d admit how much he was starting to dread—yes, dread—driving away from her. He put it out of his mind; his feelings for her were too confusing to sort through right now.
When she had pulled that stunt with Lady Chatterley’s Lover, it had taken every ounce of his self-control not to jump across that table, grab her, crush her up against his body and kiss her mercilessly. She was so far under his skin, he was starting to feel lost. She was sweet and small, provocative, exciting, a little bit irritating and brave, and damn, he admired her. More than that, he wanted her, which was incredibly inconvenient.
As they got closer to the park, Erik heard music on the breeze, fiddles playing a slow, pleasant country ballad, and he realized that Katrin was humming beside him as they got closer and closer to the park, closer and closer to saying goodbye.
“What is this?” Erik asked.
“It’s called ‘Ashokan Farewell’…it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Farewell. That’s fitting. “Yeah. It is.”
They walked through a stone archway into Slighter Park, a nice little green area with a stage set up in front and a fair smattering of lawn chairs already spread out, locals settling in for some music as the sun set.
“This music was used in a PBS series about the Civil War,” Katrin said.
“It sounds old.”
“Funny thing is, it’s not that old. It was written in the 1980s by this guy and his wife who ran a summer camp called Ashokan somewhere in New York State. And I guess they got sad when the camp was over every summer, so they wrote this piece, and poured all of their melancholy into it. You can feel it, right?”
“Yeah.” He was quiet beside her. The music was the perfect expression of his feelings. Melancholy to leave her. Unfulfilled because he wanted her. Confused and sorry that he couldn’t do anything about it. “I can feel it.”
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” he asked, gesturing to a lone bench at the back edge of the park in the shadow of a copse of trees. It was set back from the edge of the grass, and the thick green ceiling above made it look more dusky and private than it actually was.
Under the trees.
She smiled and sat down, crossing her legs toward him. He leaned back, resting his elbows on the back of the bench like wings, staring ahead at the growing number of people spreading out blankets on the green lawn while “Ashokan Farewell” played on. He wanted to take her hand, but since he had pulled away from her at supper, he hadn’t touched her again. Better to leave well enough alone. She’s a nice girl, looking for forever. It made him melancholy when he confirmed with himself that no, he still wasn’t interested in forever.
He turned to her, watching her in profile as she listened to the beautiful music. He nudged her with his elbow.
“How come you’re a nurse? You think I could teach English? You could too. Easily. Nursing doesn’t seem like a natural fit.”
“I considered it.” She turned to him. “But something has to pay the bills. And I didn’t want to teach. I like kids, I mean, I’m crazy about my niece, Anna, but I’m not cut out for teaching twenty of them at one time. But, I love reading the classics. And you know what? Being an RN means no matter where I go, I can find a job, pay the bills, love what I love, and enjoy what
