If I Can't Have You (If You Come Back To Me #3) Read online

  And of course, her mother was a sharp, observant woman. It was no wonder she’d noticed her daughter’s admiring glances at Eric.

  Brigit stood from the caramel leather couch and stretched. “I’m beat—in more ways that one,” she said, winking at her grandson. “I’d better get home and rest, or else we might have pizza for Thanksgiving dinner, too.”

  Colleen also stood from her position on the floor. “I’ll be over in the morning just as soon as I can rouse this crew out of bed,” she said, nodding toward the kids. She always went over in the morning to help prepare the Thanksgiving feast.

  Brigit nodded. “No hurry. Marc said they wouldn’t get there until around noon.”

  “Can Grandma bring us over after we get back from Chicago to work on Lucy again?” Brendan asked Eric.

  “I’ll take any help I can get,” Eric replied.

  “Can we, Grandma?”

  “Sure, if it’s all right with your mother,” Brigit said. Colleen became aware that everyone was staring at her. Eric’s gaze might have been the most interested of all. Nervousness flickered in her belly. Was it really wise to allow her children to get involved so early, when she’d just decided to attempt the risky adventure of seeing Eric?

  “Mom? Can we?” Brendan prodded.

  She smiled. “It’s fine with me. As long as I get to help, too.”

  What choice did she have, really? Eric was becoming part of the family. It wasn’t just because of Colleen that he’d become friends with her children.

  “Yes,” Brendan said triumphantly before he wandered off to see what was happening on Jenny’s show. His bandages had been removed a week ago, and much to Colleen’s relief, her son was now walking without a limp or experiencing any pain.

  After her mother left, Colleen helped Eric clean up the mess from the living room while the kids became absorbed in another television show. When she entered the large, modern kitchen carrying several soda cans, she was highly aware that he was just behind her. Ever since what had happened in the car earlier, she felt both more comfortable around him and more hyperaware of him at once.

  She smiled as he tossed a handful of candy wrappers into the garbage. “The last of his Halloween spoils. At least I hope so.”

  “I’m glad I’m his orthopedic surgeon and not his dentist.”

  Colleen snorted with laughter and turned to the sink, prepared to clean up the few dishes they’d used during dinner. Eric caught her hand, halting her. She turned to him in surprise. His expression was somber as he studied her, but as usual, his eyes were warm as they moved over her face. He reached for her other hand. He held both next to his legs. Her knuckles pressed against his outer thighs. Since when could the sensation of hard male muscle beneath jeans seem like the height of eroticism?

  She really needed to get a life.

  “Brendan told me that he and Jenny are spending the holiday weekend in Chicago,” he said quietly.

  She blinked, the seemingly innocuous statement striking her as charged. “They always go visit Marc after Thanksgiving,” she said, perhaps a little defensively.

  A small smile pulled at his mouth. Her lips trembled. She stared fixedly at his collar as he dipped his head and spoke next to her ear.

  “I know you weren’t sending the kids away with any illicit purpose in mind,” he said. “But it is a good time.”

  “It is?” she whispered. His face was only inches from hers. He possessed a Grecian nose—straight and bold. For some reason, the combination of his nose, his mouth, cleft chin and jaw were nearly as compelling as his dark eyes. Her gaze was often drawn downward…especially when he stood this close.

  He nodded and released one of her hands. He used it to brush a tendril of hair off her cheek. She shivered at his light touch.

  “Yeah. For us to go out.”

  “Go out?”

  “Yeah…on a date? Friday night?”

  She blinked. The thick sexual tension she’d been experiencing fractured slightly. The word date sounded a little mundane. Every sense organ seemed to go on high alert at Eric’s touch. Her body, at least, seemed to want much more than just a date with Eric Reyes. “Oh…a date. Like the movies?”

  “Uh-huh,” he murmured before he brushed his warm, firm lips against hers. Her body went on red alert once again. He kissed her cheekbone and spoke near her right ear. His breath against her skin made her tingle with delight. It reminded her she was alive…an exciting, vibrant woman.

  “I pick you up, we go to dinner and a movie, we talk. A date.”

  “A date,” she repeated, as if she’d never heard the word in her life. It took on a whole new meaning when Eric said it. “Okay.”

  He leaned back slightly and smiled. “Yeah?”

  She nodded and stared up at him, transfixed, her desire swelling. Then she freed her hand and grasped his shoulders. She went up on her toes and touched her lips to his.

  She kissed him like she meant it, and when Colleen threw herself into something, she made it count.

  When they separated a moment later, both of them were breathing heavy. Eric looked like she’d just hauled back and clobbered him with a club.

  “That means you do want more, right?” Something akin to bliss was starting to filter into his dazed expression.

  She gave him a droll glance and kissed him once more on the mouth. “I think that’s been pretty well established,” she said, removing her hands from his shoulders with reluctance. “I’ll think about it in a rational manner and give you my final decision on the matter tomorrow evening after dinner.”

  He looked like she’d just clubbed him again. “Rational manner? Final decision? You’re starting to make me nervous. Is this some kind of a test?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she chastised, extricating herself from his arms. “I should go. I’ve got to get the kids to bed.”

  “Colleen,” he said darkly when she started to sweep past him.

  “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said, taking in his rigid expression.

  “I want you so much I can’t sleep at night. And you’re telling me you plan on putting me on trial while you make a rational decision?”

  “It’s not a trial.”

  “After everything that’s happened tonight—after the way you just kissed me—how can you even say the word rational?”

  Her spine stiffened. It was hard enough for her to walk away from him, to focus on the mundane details of her life, when all she wanted to do was throw herself back in his arms and allow him to sweep her away on a tidal wave of sensual delight. It frustrated her that she couldn’t express adequately to him how daunting this little adventure was for her. It might be run-of-the-mill for him to woo a woman, but Colleen felt like she was stumbling around clumsily in new territory. The knowledge of her vulnerability set her a little on edge.

  “What’s the problem, Eric? Aren’t you the banner-waver for the ‘let’s be rational about romance’ society?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  Something shifted in his expression. “So you want to be rational?’ he asked, his calm tone belying the hard glitter in his gaze. “All right. Good luck.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked warily.

  “Just that I’ve tried it,” he muttered through a tight jaw, his low voice rough with emotion. “I’ve succeeded at being objective my whole life.” He startled her by reaching up and cupping the side of her neck in his palm. “Only problem is, it doesn’t seem to be working all that well when it comes to you. If I can’t be logical about this, I hope to hell you can.”

  He leaned down and kissed her, hard, quick and potent. Thought evacuated her brain. Her toes curled in her boots. A few seconds later, he released her and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her to her chaotic thoughts and
a body buzzing with arousal.

  His admission that he was having difficulty in maintaining his objectivity when it came to her left her stunned. It was so unlike him to be so forthright…so transparent. Wasn’t it? she wondered, her confusion mounting.

  Damn that man, she thought heatedly as she smoothed her hair and tried to pull herself together.

  How was it that he always managed to get in the final word?

  Chapter Nine

  A plate crashed onto the floor, causing Colleen to squeak in surprise. She set down the tray of china she’d been carrying on the kitchen counter and knelt to retrieve the jagged pieces.

  “Be careful, honey. Don’t cut yourself,” Brigit advised from where she stood next to the oven, a whisk poised in her hand.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Colleen moaned in regret.

  “It’s okay. It’s not like it’s precious china or anything.” Colleen met her mother’s blue eyes and saw she was teasing. Brigit set down the whisk and stretched out her hand. She pulled Colleen up to a standing position.

  “You stir the sauce. I’ll clean that up,” she said, bustling toward the pantry. “It was just a salad plate. I’ve got plenty extra of those.”

  Colleen stood at the stove, feeling clumsy and out of sorts, when she heard the broken china clinking in the garbage a moment later.

  “Now,” Brigit said as she opened up the refrigerator and withdrew a casserole dish, her movements economical and graceful. “How about if you rinse off the china, and I’ll take over at the stove?”

  “Are you sure you trust me with it?” Colleen muttered.

  “Quite sure,” Brigit said breezily. “And while you’re at it, why not tell me what’s got you so distracted today? Or should I say who’s got you so distracted?”

  Colleen glanced sideways at her mother and sighed. She’d been right last night. Her perceptive mother had picked up the sparks between her and Eric.

  “Nervous about Eric coming to dinner?” Brigit asked matter-of-factly.

  “A little. Technically speaking, it’s the first date I’ve been on since I was twenty years old,” she mumbled morosely. She glanced over at her mother. “Aren’t you nervous about Eric coming here?”

  “Not so much. A few months ago, I would have thought it was bizarre, the idea of him coming to a family Thanksgiving. I remember how angry he was during the hearings. Sometimes I felt like he thought I was the one who had robbed him of his mother and injured Natalie.” Brigit had a faraway look, as if seeing those emotion-filled, painful memories after Derry’s death from a great distance. She sighed and turned off the gas burner. “Eric was just a kid at the time. I don’t blame him for his anger, even if I had trouble accepting it back then. I was too filled with my own grief, my own loss, to comprehend how another person could hold anger toward me. I didn’t understand that when death strikes so many, the emotions ricochet around like a bullet in a sealed room, hitting targets you would never expect. Eric’s anger toward me was just as misplaced as mine toward him. It was wrong, but it still makes sense. Maybe we needed to go through it. Maybe. But it’s done now.”

  Colleen stood very still next to the counter, goose bumps on her arms. Seeing her mother in an unguarded moment was rare.

  “You like Eric, don’t you?” Brigit asked quietly.

  “Yes,” she replied, averting her face while she began rinsing the plates.

  “What’s the problem, then? I see the way he looks at you.” Colleen turned her head at the sound of her mother shutting the stove. The delicious aroma of roasted turkey and sweet potatoes wafted through the air. “I can tell you’re nervous, honey. You always did get quiet when you were worried about something.”

  “Quiet and clumsy,” Colleen mumbled.

  “Exactly.”

  She knew Brigit wanted her to open up, but she felt torn. How could she tell Brigit that one of the reasons she was feeling so conflicted about engaging in a relationship was her hurt over what she’d discovered about her mother and father? She wasn’t a child anymore. It wasn’t as if her parents owed her anything.

  So why do I feel so betrayed?

  Her hands stilled as she set down the gravy bowl. The thought shocked her a little. Is that how she felt? Betrayed by the knowledge of her parents’ infidelities?

  “I’ve worried about you,” Brigit said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

  “Me?” Colleen asked, caught off guard. “Why?”

  Brigit took off the oven mitts, looking thoughtful. “For the first couple years after Darin died, I understood you were grieving. I know how hard it was for you. But as time went on, I began to wonder if you’d ever consider allowing other men into your life. You’re so independent. You’re a lot like me that way.”

  Colleen continued with her actions, as though nothing was wrong, but Brigit’s unexpected openness made the questions she’d been repressing for the past few months pop into her brain.

  Why did you do it, Mom? How could two people who loved each other so much have strayed? Part of her was desperate to understand how her mother could have betrayed Derry…how Derry could have betrayed her.

  “Colleen,” her mother said softly, drawing her out of her thoughts. She went still when she saw Brigit’s expression. Her pretty face looked more lined than usual, weighed down by sadness and regret. Dread rose in Colleen’s breast. It reminded her of how she’d looked on that night last summer when Liam had confronted her about Lincoln DuBois.

  They’d spoken of it on that night—Derry’s emotional upset at the time of the crash, Brigit’s affair with DuBois and the discovery that Deidre wasn’t Derry’s child. Brigit had been devastated by revealing those secrets to Colleen and Liam, but Colleen had remained strong, trying her best not to crumble when her mother was so vulnerable.

  “Yeah, Mom?” Colleen asked in a false “everything is fine” tone.

  “Does any part of your nervousness about Eric have to do with last summer?”

  “Of course not,” Colleen murmured evenly, her heart thrumming louder in her ears at the knowledge that Brigit had somehow gleaned her private thoughts.

  She glanced sideways when her mother didn’t immediately respond. Brigit’s mouth trembled.

  “Because I want you to know something. I know everyone—maybe me most of all—has said you and I are alike over the years, but they’re wrong. I’m wrong, to always be saying that to you.” Brigit inhaled as if for courage. “The truth is, you’re stronger than me. I keep things to myself, while you were always comfortable with who you were. You were always confident enough to openly express your emotions.”

  “Mom—” Colleen began, but her mother stopped her by holding up her hand in a halting gesture.

  “Let me just say this, and it’ll be done. Mari told me about what you said to Janice Tejada at the engagement party—how Janice should go and talk to Tony while the emotions were fresh…get it all out in the open. I’m not sure how you got so wise about that sort of thing, but you certainly didn’t get it from me or your father. We hid our feelings and vulnerabilities…buried our hurt. We paid for it in the end. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for being so open and honest about your feelings.”

  “Your pride may be misplaced,” Colleen said, thinking of her cowardly avoidance of Eric because she didn’t know how to handle her attraction to him.

  “I don’t think so,” Brigit said quickly. “Anyway, I won’t belabor this. It’s still a tender wound for all of us, and it’s a holiday. I’m only bringing it up because I know how your mind works. I’ve seen how you look when you’re second-guessing yourself, and you’ve really got yourself twisted into a knot when it comes to Eric. I just wanted to say, you and I—we’re two different women. I made mistakes in regard to love, and I live with that regret. But don’t make my regret yours, h
oney. Try to trust yourself.”

  A shudder of emotion went through her. “Mom, I don’t know what to say.”

  Brigit smiled and opened up a drawer. “You don’t have to say anything. I was the one who needed to do the talking. Now…after you’ve set the table, would you mind peeling some carrots for the relish tray?”

  Colleen accepted the peeler her mother handed her, both relieved and sad their conversation was at an end. “Of course. And Mom?”

  Brigit paused in walking toward the stove and glanced back.

  “I know we’re completely different people. But I’ve always been proud to be compared to you.”

  Brigit’s lips trembled. She came over and gave Colleen a quick but heartfelt hug before she resumed her cooking, averting her face. Colleen noticed her surreptiously wiping at her cheek with her apron. Poor Mom. Always so protective of her feelings, Colleen thought with a bittersweet mixture of fondness and sadness.

  What her mother had said was true. They were very different women, but Colleen loved Brigit—imperfections, mistakes and all—just the same.

  Brigit’s unexpected insight and advice had made Colleen feel a little less burdened by her worries. Nevertheless, when she heard the doorbell ring at six o’clock sharp that evening, her heart began to flutter erratically.

  “That’s Eric. I’ll get it,” Natalie said, closing the refrigerator door. She’d come a few hours early in order to help with the cooking. Liam, Marc and Mari were already there, watching football in the family room with the kids.

  “No, that’s all right,” Colleen said breathlessly. “He’s my guest. I’ll get it.”

  Natalie paused in mid-stride, her eyes going wide.

  “I…I hadn’t realized. That’s wonderful.”

  Colleen gave her a smile—albeit a nervous one—and headed toward the front door. Before she answered it, she hurriedly tossed off the flats she’d been wearing while she cooked and slid on the heels she’d brought.