She rubbed her thumb along the rim of the warm mug. “Would you have married her?”
His features hardened, expression grim. “If that’s what she’d wanted.”
“Even though you didn’t love her?”
“Love might have grown over time.” He shrugged, his right shoulder twisting. “And if not, hopefully friendship would have been there.”
Erika hated the idea of April and Billy married. It was wrong of her, but it made her jealous, and vaguely sick. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
He didn’t reply and she dropped her gaze back to her mug. “And I imagine, April didn’t, either,” Erika added unsteadily.
“She should have come to me. I had a right to know that I’d created a child. I understand she was carrying it, but that it took two to make Beck, and I should have been involved from the beginning.”
“I don’t know what she was thinking. I didn’t even know Beck existed. She’d kept his birth from me.”
“Who knew then?”
“Her mom, my aunt. I don’t think my aunt even told anyone else. She was ashamed that April was a single mom. It wasn’t okay, not in our family.”
“I thought her mom was hooking up with different guys.”
“She went back to the church a couple years ago. She’s more devout than even her parents were.”
“Nothing like a reformed sinner.”
Erika knew it. Her mom had begun to spend more time with her aunt Sara. She was even dating someone in the Fundamentalist church. “Sometimes very religious families are the least loving of all,” she said, rising from the couch and pacing to the set of French doors with the view of the valley and the distant rugged red rocks. “You’d think my mom and aunt would have compassion for April, but no, she’d chosen a heathen lifestyle.”
“I’m not a fan of formal religion for that very reason. I think there should be a lot more compassion and forgiveness. People need love. I didn’t attend a lot of church when I was a boy, but Granddad read the bible to us every night and we always said grace and prayers. Granddad said the most important thing we could do was treat people well and to love. Love God, love your family, love your neighbor.”
She turned and looked at him. “And your enemy?”
“Probably love your enemy most of all, but that’s not as easy.”
“Which is why it probably needs to be done.”
“Agreed.” He looked at her a long moment, expression serious. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You seem… sad. Upset.”
“Now who is the therapist?” she flashed, forcing a light smile. “Would you like breakfast? I’m ready to try fried eggs, if you want them.”
“I’d love a shower first.”
“I’ll take Beck, you shower, and then I’ll make breakfast.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She crossed to him and reached down for Beck who’d just drifted off. As she leaned over to pick him up her gaze met Billy’s and held. They were just inches apart, so close she could feel his breath on her lips and see tiny silver bits in his blue irises. He was gorgeous from afar and heart stopping close. She wanted a kiss. Wanted his warmth. She saw the moment he registered her desire. His gaze darkened and smoldered. Her mouth dried and a shiver coursed through her. Why couldn’t she kiss him?
Why couldn’t she do what she’d been thinking about?
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had a perfect mouth, perfect lips.
“A kiss won’t be enough,” he said, his deep voice raspy, scratching across her senses as if she’d stroked sandpaper.
She looked back into his eyes. They glowed bright. “It would if it was a bad one,” she whispered.
“It won’t be bad. Nothing between us could ever be bad.”
And just like that, a frisson of excitement shot through her, making her dizzy and breathless. “You know just what a woman likes to hear,” she said, easing the baby from his arms, and taking several steps back.
Some of the fire faded from his eyes. “This isn’t about anyone else. This is about me and you.”
“But we can’t have a me and you, can we?” She struggled to keep her tone even, pleasant. “It’d be just sex.”
“Sex is wonderful.”
She focused on slipping Beck into his new reclining bouncy seat, and then strapped the little belt so he’d be secure. She adjusted the belt a little bit more to keep from meeting Billy’s eyes. “Sex makes cute little babies like this guy.”
“If we did it, we’d use protection.” Billy rose. “But we’re not going to do it. We can’t do it. It’d change everything, and that wouldn’t be fair to Beck, or you.”
She managed a jerky nod. “Thank you for keeping an eye on the big picture. I appreciate it.”
“You know I find you incredibly attractive—”
“Let’s not do this.” She gave him a bright, fierce smile, one with lots of teeth. “We both know what’s at stake, and we’ve both agreed it’d be a mistake. Now let me go sort out breakfast. And it might just have to be scrambled again today. I don’t think I can handle trying anything new.”
After making breakfast, eggs for both of them, Erika carried her plate into her bedroom and sat down on the bed to work and eat. For ten minutes, she struggled to focus on the screen but her mind was completely blank.
She felt angry. Embarrassed. Frustrated. Furious. That whole conversation had been miserable. Being told by Billy what they could, and couldn’t do, ticked her off.
He made it sound like he was the wise one, the one with discipline and maturity. If he was so mature, why did he only want sexual relationships? Why didn’t he want emotional connections? Why did he run away from anything that remotely resembled love?
If he was so wise, why was he attracted to her in the first place?
She wasn’t his type. She didn’t like cowboys. She hated the rodeo. She disagreed with most of the decisions he’d ever made in life. He was foolish and arrogant and stubborn and completely in denial when it came to his own mortality.
And yet she wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him tight. She wanted to press her face to his chest and breathe him in and let his warmth sink into her. And maybe some of his courage and bravado. As well as his humor. She loved his laughter, and the way he smiled, and that little groove next to his mouth that deepened when he was holding back a smile.
She was crazy about him.
Crazy, stupid.
Blinking back tears, she left the bed, and carried her plate back to the kitchen. Billy was there, at the sink, doing dishes with one arm.
“I was going to do those later,” she said.
“No biggie. It’s my turn.”
“I don’t mind—”
“You’re not a maid.” He turned the water off, and faced her. “I do need to get you some money, though. You’ve spent weeks taking care of Beck, weeks where you can’t work your other jobs.”
“I don’t want your money. He’s my cousin.”
“That was our deal.”
“There was no deal, Billy. Beck needed me and I wasn’t about to leave him, not until he’d formed a strong attachment to you.”