Good Girls Don't (14 page)

Thank God.

Bill wasn’t ready to get into the whole you’ve-got-your-whole-life-ahead-of-you talk. He’d rather she experience life for a few years, then find the right guy and settle down. Without her uncle having to butt his nose into her business and immediately transforming from awesome uncle to weird-ass relative from hell.

A sharp exhalation hissed through the receiver.

“Erika? You okay?”

“I’m fine. How’s your week going?”

Bill grinned. “I nailed the Bentwood Motors account.” Thanks to Lettie.

“Awesome! That was a big one, wasn’t it?”

“Biggest one this year,” he said.

“How about anything else? Have you gone out or anything while I’ve been gone? You really should get out and have more fun, you know. You should meet
someone,
” she said, and she let the last word hang, as though expecting him to say he had.

Funny, how his niece’s intuition was always right on the money. The same way Ginny’s had been. When it came to reading her brother’s emotions, she’d always hit the nail on the head.

Ginny had known he’d fallen for Lettie way back when, had told him he should pursue her more aggressively. But being hesitant to ruin their friendship, he hadn’t. Now, though, he was doing exactly what she’d requested, and he couldn’t be more pleased with the results.

“Have you?” Erika asked. “Met someone?”

“As a matter of fact, I did run into an old friend from high school,” he said, not wanting to tell too much too soon. Eventually, if all went well, he’d inform Erika that he ran into someone who was going to be much, much more than just an “old friend.”

“Sounds great!”

He laughed. “How about you? Have you talked to your boyfriend from home while you’ve been down there? You said you really like this one—what’s his name again?—Butch? I’m sure he’s missing you.”

Another surge of silence echoed through the phone.

“Erika?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Bill. It’s just that this connection”—she paused and he waited—“I’m losing my signal. I’ll call you back another time. If you need me, call the message center. They’re handling the calls for all conference attendees. Everything’s fine here, though.”

“Glad to hear you’re . . .” he started, but the line went dead.

Bill put the receiver back in the cradle. He’d done a good job with Erika. There had been a short span of time right after she came to live with him where she’d leaned toward the rebellious side, trying her hand at partying and dabbling in alcohol.

She had been so certain her mama would beat the odds, defy what every doctor said was inevitable, even when Ginny had told her she wouldn’t. Ginny had tried to prepare Erika, had told her to remember the good times they’d shared and had begged Erika, and Bill, to live life to the fullest.

At fifteen, Erika seemed to misunderstand her mother’s wishes. Or perhaps her experimentations had been her mechanism for coping with her loss.

Bill didn’t know. Losing Ginny was hard on both of them, but together they’d navigated the storm. In the end, Erika had come around, trusting him as not only her uncle, but also as her friend, a person who understood how she felt about losing Ginny.

Based on how she’d turned out so far, he’d say she was well on her way to becoming a successful, intriguing young woman. And as Ginny had instructed, he’d given Erika the letter Ginny had entrusted to him when Erika turned eighteen.

He hadn’t been able to control the emotion, or the tears, when his niece took her mama’s letter to her heart and held it there before retreating to her room to read Ginny’s last message in private. It meant the world to Bill that he was able to give Erika another keepsake from her mother on the day she became an adult. And the letter obviously meant the world to Erika; she vowed to keep it with her always to remind her of what her mother wanted most.

She hadn’t told Bill what the letter said, but he suspected he knew. Ginny wanted her daughter to find happiness.

So did Bill.

He pushed the frames together, so the two female images were side by side. They were so similar they could be twins, and Bill welcomed the similarities. Thanks to Erika, Ginny lived on. Bill’s big sis would’ve been proud of her selection for Erika’s guardian, seeing him handle a prone-to-be-rowdy teen.

Bill smiled. Now if he could convince Lettie Campbell to make the same choice, finding the same guy could handle a prone-to-be-rowdy adult.

C
HAPTER
11

E
rika tied a thin strap of leather around the end of Butch’s long braid. She’d been intrigued by a man with hair longer than hers; it’d been the subject of their first conversation when they met at a friend’s party. Every girl there wanted to meet the “rough and rowdy biker dude,” but he’d only had eyes for Erika.

She decided then and there that he was “the one.” And she hadn’t changed her mind, though the past couple of days hadn’t left her nearly as enamored as she’d been before their trip. He was downright obnoxious when he drank and had no consideration whatsoever for her feelings when he had beer in his system. Unfortunately, the only time she’d seen him without a can in his hand was when they’d been in bed.

And even
that
had left much to be desired this week. Probably due to the beer.

But he loved her. He’d said so, several times. And she loved him too, when he was the intriguing guy she’d met in Atlanta, instead of the jerk he’d been on this trip.

Tonight, however, he’d only had one beer, and he was getting dressed up in his black riding pants, boots and jacket. Surely, he planned to make up for his behavior the past two days.

Erika couldn’t wait. Finally, the type of vacation she’d dreamed of, with a man who cared about her, a man who loved her.

“I’ve got plans tonight,” he said, clasping his fingers together, then bending his hands to firmly crack his knuckles against his chest. “I’ll probably be late getting back.”

He stood, checked her handiwork in the mirror. “Nice job,” he said, smiling at the neat braid.

Butch really did have a nice smile, accented by the handlebar mustache that tickled when they kissed.

While Erika fought the impulse to complain about his “plans,” he leaned toward her and pushed his mouth to hers. The mustache didn’t tickle this time; it scratched. And the kiss didn’t do anything for her, at first. Then he deepened the gesture, moving his tongue inside and pulling her against his big, powerful frame.

Erika sighed. She didn’t like that he had so many guy plans during biker week, but then again, he’d warned her that he’d have a lot of group functions, and that she’d occasionally be left on her own. At the time, she thought that’d be nice. She could stroll the beach, go shopping, do whatever else she chose to pursue on Tybee Island.

Right now, though, none of those things seemed appealing. Particularly since nearly half of the “gang” were female. And shapely in leather.

“Love ya.” He broke the kiss, grabbed his helmet and headed out the door.

“Love you too,” she said, but her words met a closed door. He hadn’t waited for her response.

Erika quickly retrieved her mother’s letter from the drawer.

I’ll never regret chasing the dream, following true love. Don’t you regret it either.

Did she regret it? No, she didn’t. She wasn’t going to be one of those jealous women who cringed every time her husband went out with the guys. And that’s all Butch was doing. Spending time with the guys, which was a part of biker week. He’d said so.

She lifted the paper, held it to her face and inhaled deeply. Was it her imagination? Or did she truly smell a hint of her mother’s flowery perfume on the page?

Her lower lip trembled. Would her mother approve of the dream she had chased?

Before she could ponder the answer, a banging knock sounded on her door.

“Butch?” she said hopefully. She quickly returned the letter to the drawer, then crossed the room.

Swinging the door open, she didn’t meet Butch’s burly gaze. Instead, she met eyes so light blue she could see through them, sandy blond hair and a wide white smile accented by tanned skin. She thought she recognized the guy; she’d seen him earlier, by the pool. “Can I help you?”

“I saw the biker group leave,” he said, and his grin crooked up on one side, almost giving the appearance of shyness. He shrugged. “I noticed your boyfriend went along and thought you might be looking for something to do.”

“You’re asking me out?” Erika couldn’t disguise her shock. Particularly when she thought about the difference in size of this lean, clean-cut college guy in his polo shirt and khakis and the big mountain of a man clad in leather that left her hotel room.

Did this guy not care for his teeth?

He laughed. “No, I’m not.” Another shrug. “I’ve seen your boyfriend, and I do have some semblance of self-preservation.”

Erika smiled. Cute and witty too. Not a bad combination. He’d make a nice date for a girl who hadn’t already found her true love.

“But I did notice your boyfriend left, and I figured you might be interested in the party we’re having by the pool.”

“Who’s we?” Erika asked, her curiosity piqued. She leaned around him to peer toward the pool area, where several guys were setting up band equipment on the raised deck.

“Mostly students from the University of Georgia. We decided to squeeze in another beach trip before the fall semester starts.”

“I’m starting in the fall,” she said, moving her gaze back to those eyes.

“You’re going to UGA?” he asked, leaning against the door facing.

Erika took a tiny step back. “Georgia Tech,” she clarified. “But I’m starting in the fall. It’s my first year.”

“Ahh, so we’re rivals.” He grinned brighter. “No matter, we’ll still let ya come to the party.”

“Gee, thanks.” She shifted from one foot to the other.

“Don’t mention it. So,” he said, backing up, “you gonna stay in your room all night, or are you going to come down and have a little fun?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” She smiled, eased the door closed, but not before hearing his last words.

“Looking forward to it.”

An hour later, Erika put on the new turquoise handkerchief top she’d bought that afternoon and a pair of khaki pants. She’d planned to wear the outfit for Butch, but it had the right look for a pool party, and she was curious about the college crowd. After all, she’d be part of that crowd soon.

Would Butch care if she went to an occasional party at Georgia Tech? Probably not, since he’d be attending his own biker things.

She pulled her hair up in a high ponytail, tied a turquoise scarf around the base, then appraised the look in the mirror.

Not bad. True, she looked rather young, compared to Butch and his leather pack, but for the college scene, she should blend. Or so she thought, until she made her way to the pool.

Thanks to an open bar, and several kegs by the beach, the majority of the partygoers were thoroughly smashed, and it was only ten o’clock. Disappointed, Erika steered clear of the pool, where several of the girls had jumped in and started a wet T-shirt contest. With the cheers of the guys on the side, and the intoxication of the females in the water, Erika had no doubt the shirts would be floating in the pool soon, or clogging the drain.

She sighed. So much for the college life. Partying wasn’t her thing anymore. She’d been there and done that after her mother died—and thank God, she lived to tell about it. With no desire to go there again, she turned away from the crowd.

Deciding she wouldn’t let the exquisite night go to waste, she slipped off her sandals and started down the wooden walkway toward the beach.

A full moon danced over the rippling water and showcased each perfect white-capped wave. Erika could think of nothing better than a long walk on the sand. Well, a long walk with the guy she loved would be better—but with Butch away at his biker thing, that wasn’t an option.

She stepped off the wood and welcomed the feel of warm sand beneath her feet. The tiny grains tickled her heels and eased between her toes. She inhaled the salty air, closed her eyes and listened to the water splash against the shore.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

Opening her eyes, Erika turned to see the sandy-haired guy who had invited her to the party.

“Very nice. And peaceful.” She looked toward the pool, where, sure enough, shirts were flying.

“Hey, I want to apologize. I had no idea it was going to get out of control.”

She raised a brow.

“Well, out of control this early,” he corrected, and his smile beamed in the moonlight.

“That’s okay. It gave me a reason to get out of the room and enjoy this gorgeous night.”

“See, I knew all along you needed to get out of your room,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he talked. The action pushed his shoulders forward, and reminded Erika of those guy models on her uncle’s
Men’s Health
magazines. She wondered if it made his abs ripple, the way it did those guys in the magazine.

Then she shook her head. She should
not
be wondering about this guy’s abs. She was on a romantic vacation with Butch, wasn’t she? Even if today hadn’t been incredibly romantic.

“You going for a walk?” he asked.

“I was planning to.”

He tilted his head and squinted through an overzealous ocean breeze. “Want company?”

Erika swallowed. Letting him come along would be nice, but probably wouldn’t be wise. Not necessarily unsafe, since there were people everywhere along the beach, but definitely not smart for a girl who was in love with someone else.

“I’m Evan,” he said. “Evan Carter.” He extended his hand.

Erika laughed. Something about a handshake didn’t quite fit the scenario of a guy asking to walk with her on the beach, but she took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “Erika Collins.”

“Nice to meet you, Erika,” he said, and once again, his grin took control of his face—and Erika’s resistance. “So, are we going for a walk?”

Another laugh escaped, and she couldn’t fathom a single reason why she shouldn’t walk with him. What was the harm in walking, anyway? “Sure.”