Bonds Of The Heart Read online

  He wore an old t-shirt stained with grease from the cars and trucks he worked on. His jeans, she noted, were the same as the day before. Did he not believe in washing his clothes? He rubbed his hands on an old red rag and seemed to be making no progress in removing the stains. He still hadn’t shaved, which didn't annoy her, but the fact that she found it attractive did.

  “You’re Jeep having problems again?” He glanced over her head briefly, looking for the black Jeep but didn’t see it, before returning his gaze to hers. It was the same woman who had broken down in front of the cemetery and who he ran into—literally—at the little general store in town. The same woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

  She still had that cool air about her and, in the heat of the early morning, Blake welcomed it. She wore slim jeans that had little zippers at her thin ankles. The soft color of ice in her silk blouse matched the cool blue of her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a braid that fell just below her shoulders. He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it and let it fall around her shoulders. Though her hair was dark, there were glints of burgundy highlighted by the sun. Why he found that attractive, he didn’t know. Nor did he want to find out. Just like he didn’t want to see those ice blue eyes of hers when he closed his own at night.

  “No,” she said flatly at his lingering stare. “I came to pick up my mom’s car.”

  “What’s the name?” He turned back to the garage and picked up the clipboard.

  “Gibbons. Brianne Gibbons.”

  Gibbons, he thought again with a frown. That was the name he couldn’t place earlier. He glanced up at her again before returning his eyes to the invoices. He pulled her invoice free after searching through the pile. “Gonna to be ready tomorrow. You’re a day early.”

  “Ben said it would be ready today.”

  “I’m sure he did. That was probably before his daughter came down with some bug. I’m working on the belts now.” He gestured to the car in question to his left, hood open, wiry rubber belts lying on the engine.

  “Great,” Erika muttered. At least it was a nice enough day that she could walk back to the house.

  “I’ll drive you back.” It wasn’t a question. He had said it so casually. Almost reading her thoughts. Erika had to blink twice to register the statement.

  “No. I can walk. Thanks anyway.” Erika turned to leave but found her wrist caught in his hand. Her pulse skipped at the touch though she tried to ignore it.

  Blake felt the skip and couldn’t stop his own pulse from increasing. He didn’t know why he reached out, didn’t know why he had to drive her home, but she wouldn’t leave unless it was in his tow truck. “I’m sure the walk here was nice and all, but in shoes like that,” he pointed with his chin to her heeled sandals, “you’re feet are bound to ache by the time you get home.”

  She didn’t want to admit to him that her feet were already aching from the walk here. But she wasn’t about to have him drive her home. “I’m fine. I don’t need a ride.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.”

  He led her by the wrist, which he hadn’t released, to the tow truck. He opened the door with his free hand and tried to help her into the seat. When she refused to get in, tried to protest, he simply placed his hands on her waist and boosted her up, closing the door after she was in place. She had a tiny waist, Blake thought as he rounded the truck.

  She should have been offended by the barbaric treatment. She shouldn’t have enjoyed the feel of his hands on her waist. The warring emotions had Erika biting her tongue until Blake slid into the driver’s seat.

  “How dare you!” She huffed, turning to him in her seat. “I said I didn’t need a ride. Then you haul me into this truck like I’m some cavewoman of yours?” She narrowed her eyes and flailed her hands in the air before crossing them across her chest.

  The half-cocked smile surprised them both. “If you were mine,” he said quietly, “you would never be treated like a cavewoman.” He turned the key in the ignition at her stunned expression. “You gonna give me directions or are we going for a scenic drive?”

  “I’m just a few blocks off Freeman’s Road.” She huffed after regaining her control from his deep—yes, sexy too—low voice and his declaration.

  Blake was more tense than he had been the first two times they had met. Since Ben was out, he had a number of cars to see to before the day ended, and this little detour meant he’d be working late. He’d have to phone home when he got back and hope he wasn’t needed right away. Turning his head to his passenger, he saw she had had finally relaxed enough to unfold her arms and glare out her window. She probably didn’t have any worries or stresses like he had. She probably had it easy, from the looks of her.

  They sat in silence as Blake pulled out of the shop’s lot and headed across town. She eyed him coolly. He was relaxed, one arm casually hanging out his window. His eyes focused on the road. He probably hadn’t a care in the world, she thought with resentment. She’d bet that he probably always got what he wanted and never had to make sacrifices for anything.

  “Blake,” he said, breaking her of her thoughts.

  She turned to look at him without an answer.

  “That’s my name. Since we seem to have a habit of running into each other, I thought you should at least know my name.”

  “I know your name. Small town.” She smirked and cocked a brow.

  “I won’t ask how you know my name, but isn’t it proper manners to give me your name in return, Ms. Gibbons?”

  She didn’t like the formality of her name or the way it rolled off his tongue. She was only Ms. Gibbons at work. With a sigh, she gave him her name. “It’s Erika. Erika Gibbons.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  She didn’t fight the laugh. “I’m certainly not a ma’am.”

  No she wasn’t, he thought, but she had a snooty air about her. He hadn’t seen her around Emberton before, yet he knew the car he worked on had been in the shop a few times for various repairs and that Ben had worked on it. Her laugh cut through him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It softened something inside him. “No, I suppose you aren’t.”

  She narrowed her eyes at the mischievous tone in his voice as he slowed into her driveway. Before she could retort, he had gotten out of the truck and was already opening her door for her. He extended his hand to help her down. Now he thinks he’s a gentleman? She jumped from the truck, refusing his offered hand, in her heeled sandals and felt the sting rise up her legs from her feet. She bit back the unwelcome sensation and plastered a smile to her face.

  “Thank you for the ride,” she said heading toward the house.

  Her mother was on the porch waiting. Brianne frowned at the cool exchange between her daughter and Blake as she walked toward them.

  Blake nodded, closed the door and headed back to his side of the truck.

  “Car’s not ready yet?” Brianne asked.

  “Sorry mom. Turns out it will be one more day.”

  “I see.”

  “I’ll take you to Quantico.”

  At the word, and the sad tone of Erika’s voice, Blake’s head snapped back toward the house and the two ladies. Neither of the two women noticed.

  “No, no. I’ll call them and reschedule. Thank you for driving Erika back. Tell your mother I asked about her.” They both turned to him then.

  “No problem, I will ma’am. I’ll have your car ready first thing in the morning. And you should bring your Jeep in too.” He turned to Erika before opening his door.

  Erika didn’t answer him for she was furious that he revealed to her mother there was a problem with her Jeep.

  “Why don’t you stay for a minute, Blake? I made some sweet tea.”

  “I appreciate it, Mrs. Gibbons, but Ben’s out and I have to pick up the extra work. I’ll take a rain check on the tea.” He boosted himself up into his seat and, with a wave, left.

  As soon as he was back at the garage, Blake went back to work. He
finished Mrs. Gibbons’ car quickly, anticipating Erika’s return tomorrow. He battled a resistant muffler and engine block while he thought of Erika’s hair between his fingers. He dumped oil in the barrels out back as he thought about the curve of Erika’s lips and how they would feel against his.

  Just how the hell had this woman crept into his head like she did? Damn it, he couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about her. What was it about her? He took the pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shuffled one out and into his mouth, lit it.

  She wasn’t like other women he’d known. She was stubborn, edgy, and not at all polished. She didn’t quite fit into Emberton, yet she knew his name before he told her. Her somewhat fancy clothes were made for the big city and not the small town he had called home since he was a young boy. He’d have thought she’d come from money, but her mom’s house suggested otherwise. She wore too much makeup, he decided. Her thick lashes were probably fake. With a nod to himself, summing up Erika Gibbons as accurately as he could, he took the last drag of the cigarette and decided to call it a day.

  By the time he got home, Blake pushed aside the ache of his muscles as the mousy-brown-haired boy leapt from the screen door to greet him. Blake’s smile came easily.

  “You’re home!”

  “Where else would I go?” With his hand, Blake fussed with Robbie’s hair as they walked back to the house together. He would have to take him for a haircut soon.

  The smile that greeted Blake fell into a frown. “Grands said I couldn’t have ice cream until I finished my math homework. I hate fractions. And I hate summer school.”

  “I’ll help you with them, then we’ll both get ice cream.”

  Robbie had suffered hard when the news of Jared’s death had come. His studies suffered as well. Prior, he had been just an average student and now he was close to being put into special classes. Blake was determined to get Robbie back into a normal routine like the school psychologist suggested.

  “Are you any good?” Robbie smirked.

  Blake smiled. The kid was just like his father. “I only studied it for four years.”

  “Who would want to study math for four years?” Robbie made a gagging noise with throat. “I want to be a mechanic like my dad.”

  Blake noted the boy was more like his father every day as he looked around the house. Clothes littered the living room and Blake knew he’d be doing laundry way into the night after Robbie was in bed. “Mechanics need math.”

  “They do?” Robbie’s dark, muted brown eyes widened as they met Blake’s.

  “How else would they know just how to fit the right part to the right car? Now where are those fractions?”

  Robbie led Blake into the dining room where his school books were fanned out over the table. For the next twenty minutes, fractions were the only thing in the world to the two boys at the table. Blake managed to get Robbie to understand fractions easier than his own teacher had by using references to Robbie’s video games. He used games such as ‘League of Legends’ and ‘Minecraft’.

  “I’m not getting this.” Robbie threw his pencil down on the table and folded his arms.

  “That’s not true. Let’s look at this problem. Silvia is growing tomato plants and studying their heights. They give us the fractions and want us to determine the difference between them. So, say you’re in Minecraft, and you’ve planted sugar cane. Now you’ve mined one set of sugar cane about an hour ago, and another set about two hours ago. They are different heights. One is one block in height the other is three blocks in height. See the difference?”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Now if we use that same thought to the fractions they have here in the problem, can you determine the difference?”

  “I think so.” Robbie grabbed his pencil and started writing in his notebook while Blake looked on. He smiled when Robbie’s face lit up in determining the right answer. When Blake’s mother came in from the kitchen with two bowls of ice cream, Blake smiled and nudged Robbie who was nose-deep in his note book. With a smile, Robbie looked to Blake.

  “We’re done,” Blake whispered. “I think Grands will allow you to have that ice cream now.”

  Robbie scooted from his seat to take his bowl into the kitchen. Blake packed the books into Robbie’s backpack.

  “He should be doing that, you know.” Blake's mother cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “I know, but after fractions anyone would need a break. He’s smart, he gets it. It’s just because of…”

  His mother sighed. “I know, dear. Here, you deserve some too.”

  “Thanks, mom.”

  “You’ve been by to see Jared?”

  “No.”

  Though he had driven by yesterday and on the way home from work, Blake still couldn’t bring himself to enter the cemetery and visit his brother’s grave with the flag next to it. That’s not where he felt his brother anyway.

  Maureen Hamilton watched as her son turned inward again on her. Blake had brooded over the past three months at first drinking himself almost sick with hurt and pain. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break through to her son. No matter how much comfort she gave him, he wouldn’t let her in.

  She knew Blake’s routine well. He’d take Jared’s old truck and go for a drive along the back roads. He’d stop by the cemetery but never go in. When the pain was too much, he’d find an empty field and just run the truck through the dirt. He would be gone for hours on those days. His pain was still as fresh as the day she had called him with the news.

  She’d barely gotten through it herself with her husband at her side the day the officer and chaplain came to her door. It was the moment every soldier’s family feared, and every mother’s heart broke never to be repaired again. No hurt compared to that of a parent losing a child. No parent should outlive their children, she thought. But she had accepted Jared’s decision to join the Marines. He had come to his parents looking for understanding in his decision. They had given him that, for they taught their children, that understanding went hand in hand with love. And because they loved their children, they knew that each of their boys had to follow their hearts.

  Blake’s had taken him to D.C. to be a partner in a major accounting firm. He had studied and graduated with honors. They were so proud of his accomplishments. They were proud of both their sons’ accomplishments. When Jared’s wife died during childbirth, they helped Jared raise Robbie. When Jared wanted to buy the auto shop, own it, and run it as a family business, they gladly helped him with the money to do so. They stood in the auto body shop with Jared the first day he opened as the new owner.

  Now all she could do was to wait until her youngest, and now only, son was ready to open himself up again to his family and to the rest of the world.

  Seven

  ***

  The scent of lemons had Erika’s stomach growling. She didn’t skip breakfast on purpose, she just wanted to drop off the pie at Mrs. Hamilton’s and get her day started. Practical. She’d be able to get her mom’s car after she dropped off the pie and start on the new manuscript she’d been sent to edit. She’d find a snack machine for something quick while she was out running errands and eat a big meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and maybe even some of her mother’s hash browns when she got home.

  Erika pulled up to the small house from the address her mother had written down for her, she noticed Blake’s old truck in the driveway. She narrowed her eyes, unsure if mechanics made house calls, and silently prayed Blake wasn’t there. As she rang the doorbell her hopes faded and her heart skipped a few beats.

  Blake's stubble had been shaved off and his wet hair dripped onto his bare shoulders. They were broad, as she had first thought, and his torso narrowed to his waist. He wasn’t lanky at all, he was lean and hard. He had a towel in his hand and another wrapped around his waist. Her mouth went dry and she feared she wouldn’t be able to speak coherently.

  “We meet again,” he said, this time with a smile she wasn’t ready for. There was o
nly a hint of amusement behind his shaded gray eyes. She wondered if he ever really let himself laugh or if he was arrogant twenty-four-seven.

  “My mother made this for Mrs. Hamilton.” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be. Silly, she thought, he was just an attractive man. There were plenty of them in L.A. He was just one more. So why did she feel so attracted to him?

  She was in shorts that barely covered her bottom and her hair fell softly around her shoulders, Blake noticed. Her snug black t-shirt under the oversized unzipped hoodie drew his eyes to her curves. The waist he had just held yesterday was teasing him and those big blue eyes of hers stared at him like they had in his dreams the night before.

  “She’s not here.”

  “She’s not—oh. I must have the wrong house.” She glanced at the piece of paper her mother gave her.

  “Come in. She’ll be by soon.” He tipped his head just a nod and held the door open for her but she was still frozen in place.

  “I can’t. I have errands to run. I just came to drop this off. I’d appreciate it if you’d give it to her for me, please.”

  “My mom will be disappointed to find a piece of this missing.” Blake eyed the pie and thought it would be perfect with his coffee, cooling in the kitchen.

  “Your…” She had thought, possibly, that he was just renting a room. She should have learned all her years in California not to assume. “Right. Here you are, then. Enjoy.”

  She held out the pie toward him. Blake threw the towel he had in his hand onto the chair beside the door and reached for the plate from her. His hands brushed over hers, calloused rough to porcelain soft. The same current that ran through him the last time he’d touched her was back. Her hands were small and delicate. Running his thumb against her wrist he felt the rapid drumming of her pulse. His eyes locked with hers.