Erik could go several different ways with that leading comment, but sexual innuendo didn’t belong in the conversation. There was a time and a place for everything and in this time and in this place, he wanted to learn everything he could about Belle. “Yes, both require a steady hand. In high school, I wasn’t certain if I would go to trade school or college. I’d started to gain attention in football and although I liked the theater, it wasn’t the safest option. Not that football is safe.”
“True.” She trailed her foot along the ground. “It can be physically challenging and dangerous. You were a quarterback in your first year on the team at UARK. What made you decide to change positions to wide receiver?”
Wow, she was the first person to ask him that. This meant she’d been paying attention. You pay her to pay attention. Except she sounded truly interested and by the way she continued to stare at him with expectation, she was waiting for his answer.
He draped his arm over the back of the seat and lifted one of her tempting curls. “May I?” She gave her consent and he explored the texture with his fingertips. “You’ve done your homework.”
“I’m a fan, otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” she said.
Despite the situation, she was forever in agent mode. Part of her job was to talk him up. He wished that she actually meant it, and not simply to stroke his ego. There were plenty of people willing to do that already—at a price. It was an occupational hazard for people to want to use him for personal gain. His uncle for one, a man he once admired the hell out of, had no compunction about using Erik’s fame for money.
Pushing Tank to the back of his mind, Erik reached over and traced his finger over back of her hand. He had to stay in the now and play his part. “That’s good to hear.”
Belle lowered her lashes and pressed her lips together. Here he was slamming Tank and he was doing the same thing to Belle. She hadn’t wanted to be on the show and he’d talked her into it. She lifted her thumb and looped it with his finger. He took her offered hand. No matter his regrets, they were in the thick of this and they had no recourse but to push forward. A thrill raced along every nerve at her touch and he inspected her slender fingers.
“So are you going to tell me why you decided to switch positions, or is it a secret?” She met his gaze once more.
“I changed because I wanted to play and the team’s QB and the backup were both stronger than I was.” He’d wanted to be a quarterback. It was the most coveted position on the field but it was also the most stressful in more ways than the physical. Erik had a natural physical ability and he’d found his niche as a wide receiver. There was still a lot of pressure but much less than the QB “The team’s wide receiver was a senior at the time and I maneuvered my way into that position. The more flexible you are, the more chances of success.”
“I like that. Is that your life philosophy?” Belle rested her head on her fist, the other hand still intertwined with his. She continued to let him play with her hair, something he’d wanted to do since the first time he’d seen her.
“No, but it sounded good.” His voice came out huskier than he’d like. She was affecting him on so many levels just by sitting next to him.
Her gentle laughter exposed the sexy gap between her front teeth. Pink lips tempted and he continued to rock the swing, the gentle action soothing. He almost forgot about the crew that were sitting behind the multiple cameras, frozen in position, not a sound from any of them.
“I believe in being positive.” It had taken years to get to that place after his father had died. Once his mother had emerged from her depression, he’d embraced the good things in life. “What are your wise words to live by?”
“My mom told me to always keep moving forward.” The smile fell, a sadness dimming the light in her eyes. “She died when I was thirteen.”
He nodded, continuing to rub the satiny skin under his thumb. “I am sorry to hear that. My dad died in a fire. He was a fireman.” He’d been bigger than life, a man quick to smile. Erik had inherited his size and stature but he looked more like his mom.
“It’s never easy, is it?” She released a small breath and cleared her throat. There was a suspicious gleam of tears in her eyes and he cupped her cheek. Under the circumstances, it felt right. Whether it was the right thing to do, was up in the air.
Chapter Nineteen
Great. Moisture pushed at the back of her eyes and she held Erik’s steady regard. Remembering her mother was harder some days than others. This one was particularly tough. “Today is the tenth anniversary of her death.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Compassion relaxed his features, and her heart melted. He dropped his hand from her cheek. She’d asked him not to kiss her again on camera. Correction. At all. Except she secretly wished he would kiss her again. She’d never tell him that.
“Thank you. I prefer to take a page out of your book and think positive thoughts about her,” she said.
“What is your favorite story?” He dropped his hand from her face, regret in the action.
“That’s easy. My mom was a huge 4th of July fan and when I was seven, she started our first annual block party.” A warm feeling overcame her at the memory of her mother. “We didn’t have a lot of money and fireworks were expensive. Every family pitched in a few. The parents sat on the street in lawn chairs. Us kids had our own parade of bicycle floats,” she said.
“That sounds like a blast. The 4th was a big thing for us too. The garage sponsored the parade in my town and my grandfather’s mule pulled the firehouse’s old firetruck. Me and my cousins got to hang on the back of it and throw out candy,” he said.
The nostalgia in his voice drew her in. He was the sentimental sort, another thing she liked about him. “In our parade, the other kids threw out candy,” she said.
“You didn’t?”
“I did. Well, most of it.” She grinned up at him. “Some I kept for myself.”
It was nice talking about her mother, despite the people on the peripheral hanging on her every word. Talking to Erik, it was easy to tune out the people around them. That should have frightened her but for now, it was okay to pretend they were on a real date. Or at least on their way to becoming friends.
“Then you’ll like my sister. She used to do the same thing.” He continued to rock the swing, the action relaxing, the conversation cathartic. “Your mom sounds like a fun person.”
“She was the life of the party. She never let things get her down, no matter how bad they got.” And they’d gotten bad, even before her illness. “We always had each other.” Until we didn’t.
