“We hold a tailgating party every year for the season opener,” Oscar said. “You should come by. It’s always a blast.”
Okay, now he just flat out asked her out. Considering the fact that Erik was his new spokesman, he had to know that Belle was his agent.
What had Darius said to the guy to keep their secret? If he knew she was his agent and not a serious contender for his Fiancé, that would explain why he kept flirting with her. Either that, or the guy was a douche who hit on other men’s girlfriends.
She’s not your girlfriend. How many times in the past month had he told himself that? Yet here he was, picturing her naked in front of the fire, legs open, waiting for his—
“Erik,” Belle said, jabbing him with her elbow.
He snapped his head up and fought the flush rushing up his neck at being caught. Had she guessed his thoughts? From the way her eyes widened, deep, velvety pupils meeting his gaze, perhaps. There was no denying their attraction. She’d been honest in her agreement with him. That’s where they parted ways.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The vintage train car was adorable. She and Erik sat in wicker chairs, the side of the train opposite them open to view the passing scenery. The camera men were on either side of them. The mic taped to her back was almost as uncomfortable as the dress. Whose idea it was to stuff her like a sausage into the thing was on her list of least-favorite people. She had to admit, it was very flattering, however. The price paid for beauty.
“Are you a fan of trains?” Erik asked.
“No, this is actually the first train I’ve been on. We didn’t travel much.” Belle and her mom had lived in the same neighborhood until her mother’s death.
“Then it’s something we have in common. I’ve seen thousands of them, since they passed through the small town where I grew up, but I’ve never ridden on one either. We used to take a penny and put it on the track. Once the train ran over it, we’d get the flattened coin.” A smile played over his lips, nostalgia in every word.
“Darius said we were traveling to Snoqualmie Falls. Before my mother died, we borrowed a neighbor’s car and drove up here. She’d talked about going for years but life got in the way.” Belle’s mom tried her best, but as a single mother, they didn’t have a lot of money.
Erik reached over and took her hand. The weather was still overly warm and he was wearing a short sleeve dress shirt, the sleeves revealing his powerful biceps. Those same arms had pulled her over the back of the couch and onto his lap. The rest still stayed upmost in her mind.
“What was your mother like?”
She threaded her fingers into his, the feel of his skin and strength bolstering her own. The last time they’d talked about her mother had been in front of the fireplace while having sex. “She was my life. She was a maid at a local hotel and she worked for a janitorial service at night.”
“She was a single mother working two jobs.” He nodded and brushed his thumb over her knuckle. The gesture was comforting. He’d accused her of thinking he was immature. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, he joked around but he was also compassionate and instinctively knew when she was upset.
If things were different, she’d pursue whatever it was developing between them. Chances were, it was simply hormones. Because her hormones were screaming for his.
“Yes, she worked a lot but she also liked to have fun. We had a karaoke machine.” She could feel the color rising up her neck at his blooming grin. Damn, he had a gorgeous smile.
“We never went singing. Unless you feel like singing right now,” he said.
“No, I don’t think so. My mom’s the one with the voice. She wanted to be a singer.” Her own smile fell a bit. “She was only thirty-six when she died of a rare kidney disease.”
“Wow, she was young.” He squeezed her hand, compassion in his blue gaze. “How old where you?”
The question stole her breath and she ached to turn back the clock by a few minutes, enough to stop the conversation from taking this turn. “I was thirteen.”
Silence followed her confession as she tried to arrange her thoughts. There was no getting around the truth. “I didn’t know where my father was and the state couldn’t find him so I went into foster care.”
He blinked, clearly taken aback by her admission. “Foster care?”
“Yes, after a while, I was placed in a group home. The head of the agency where you and I met is my foster brother. His grandmother runs the ranch.” Placed in a safe, nurturing home, Belle was one of the lucky ones. “I lost my mother but I found another family.” She stumbled on the last word, the emotion almost taking over. Tears pushed at the back of her eyes but this time, she refused to let them fall.
“Why am I always making you cry?” he asked. He pulled her hand and leaned in to her, kissing her temple, the gentle brush of his lips almost her undoing.
She released a watery laugh and glanced at the ceiling in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. “I really don’t cry this much. I guess you hit the right buttons.” This show had that effect on all the women over the years and some of the men. She’d scoffed at them, arrogant and clueless to the reality of having your past laid bare before millions of people.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.” Real regret underlined his words, along with an uncomfortable frown as he tilted his head the slightest bit.
Was Darius speaking in his ear again? It was hard to remember that Erik loosely followed a script. Darius was pushing this line of questioning but it wasn’t surprising. The show was formulaic and this was the oldest formula in the reality television book. It hooked the audience in, at least it had hooked her in for seven years.
“It’s okay. Gram has a charity called Gram’s Kids, if anyone is interested in donating. I’ll give the information to Darius to post on the show’s website.” At least she could try to benefit Gram’s place. “I found J.J. so I’m not alone, even though he’s in Spain for the year.”
