The Chance

“I don’t want you to waste your time. I like you. I want you to like me. But I’m not perfect by a stretch. So let’s do it.” He lifted one of those copper brows. “How’s that sound?”

It sounded like bad news was coming. But it had to be done.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” she said. Then she turned and jogged out of the garage and down the hill to her house.

* * *

Laine threw on a warm, dry sweat suit and put her chicken on to stew with a halved onion and the end of the celery stalks in the water. It was one o’clock. She put the ingredients for the Parmesan breadsticks on the counter—that would be her next project. She was determined to make her chicken and dumplings whether her encore date happened or not.

And then there was a knock at the door.

She opened it and there he stood in that blue jacket and pants. She took a breath. “I don’t mean to be like this—so suspicious of everything. Certainly a beautiful, sweet girl like Ashley is nothing to be—”

He came inside, took her elbow in a firm grip and said, “Come on, Laine. Let’s talk.” He directed her to the sofa. They sat there, facing each other. “Ashley’s one of the best things that ever happened to me. She’s letting me help her look at colleges. I shouldn’t even have that privilege—not only am I not educated, but Gina and Mac have been her parents, not me. I didn’t know about Ashley. Well, I wondered...”

“Huh?” she asked.

“I dropped out of high school at sixteen. I thought I had the world by the balls because I was making nine dollars an hour changing oil and tuning up engines. And girls—I had girls. And boy,” he said with a rueful laugh, “I thought I had all the moves, too. I thought I was so slick—God’s gift. And I was just a stupid horny kid. And Gina—she was the prettiest girl. All of fifteen, but I had no brain and it didn’t even register that she was too young. We dated, if you can call it that—it was a few fast-food meals and movies and a lot of making out. And then she said she thought she might be pregnant and I ran like my pants were on fire. I was nineteen and she was fifteen—I almost heard the cell door slam behind me. I headed out of town and didn’t look back. I found work in Idaho—more mechanics. And I found my kind of buds—the kind that worked by day and drank and partied and did some recreational drugs at night. We spent our money partying and I thought I had life figured out until I saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror. My new buddies stopped for a case of beer and I was driving while they bought the beer because I was nineteen and they were twenty-one.”

Her eyes narrowed. She had not expected this, but she was a trained interrogator and nothing much surprised her.

“Yep. They held up the store. Took the case of beer and eighty dollars—they were such high rollers. There was a silent alarm and my buddies...? They didn’t even really have a gun, thank God, or we might’ve all been killed. One of them stuck his finger out in a sweatshirt pocket and said, ‘Hand over the cash!’ We were tried separately but I had the worst public defender, toughest judge and the longest sentence. I did five years.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Crap,” she said before she could stop herself. She fell against the couch back and closed her eyes. She put her hand against her forehead.

“Five,” he repeated. “I don’t drink much because for five years I didn’t drink at all and while I was on parole, no drugs and no alcohol was the price of freedom. Believe me, a case of beer is never going to be that important again. I have no intention of going back to the useless imbecile I was. I cleaned up my act, learned some lessons, moved on to a better life. That’s it, Laine. I’m an ex-con. Gina, Mac, Ashley and for all I know the whole town is aware of it. I’m not trying to hide anything but I don’t advertise it. I was going to tell you tonight—I’m not trying to pull anything.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Do we have anything in common?”

He shook his head. “I’m also afraid of heights,” he said. “I won’t be parasailing or rock climbing with you. I can’t even watch movies that have people fighting on the rooftops and ledges of buildings. And I’m in passable good shape but I never took karate. I never took lessons of any kind. You can probably kick my ass, too.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered. “What a mess.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said. “But this is all I have. I’m a mechanic who was a delinquent and had a baby I didn’t even know about. I thought about Gina and wondered, but I didn’t think she’d appreciate a letter from prison asking about her condition, so I kept my curiosity to myself. That’s it—that’s all I’ve got.” He stood up.

“Eric, I’m an FBI agent.”

He sat back down. “Jesus.”

“Yeah. Not on the job at the moment but that doesn’t change my status. I guess you’ve figured out—I’m not talking about that around town. I don’t need people looking at me funny. I’m a Fed. A fibbie. I hurt my shoulder by getting in the way of a bullet. I can kick your ass. We don’t fool around about that stuff....”

“You can’t weigh one-twenty soaking wet!”

“And I know every dirty trick,” she told him. “I can kill you with my bare hands.”

He shuddered.

“Okay, not with my bare hands, but if I had a corkscrew or hat pin, you could be history. My brother thinks I’m cool. My father thinks I’m ‘blue-collar.’”

Eric laughed in spite of himself. “He’s jealous.”

“Probably not. I’ve never quite measured up to his expectations.”

“Well, after getting arrested, going to prison and being forever an ex-con, my parents have been pretty disappointed in me, as you can imagine. We get along better these days, but they’re older than dirt and lack the energy to stay mad at me. And then there’s Ashley. My mother and sister had no idea I could actually produce something that pure, that brilliant, that beautiful.” He shrugged. “But then, neither did I. I give all the credit to Gina. If I’d had half a brain back then, I’d have let her straighten me out....”

“Do you still love her?” she asked.

He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I never loved her, Laine. I was attracted to her and knew she was an awesome person, but back then I lacked the capacity for real love. She was so lucky I ran. I would’ve dragged her down.”

He stood again. “So, look—I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I mean it. I wanted us to get to know each other a little bit. I was going to tell you tonight. I would never try to trick someone into a relationship with me. It’s all public record. I have no control over that.”

“And you’re trying to start a business in Thunder Point,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “If I’m lucky, my new customers won’t know I’m an ex-con until they’ve gotten to know me for the guy I am now.”

“I’m stewing the chicken,” she said.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I should’ve told you last night. But damn, I just couldn’t. I was having such a good time. I wanted you to like me, I did.”

She stood up. She put her hands on her hips. “Go home and shower after work and come back. I’m making my mother’s dumplings. They melt in your mouth. I bought special coffee for you and special wine for me....”

“Laine, maybe we’re better off just letting it go right—”

“I’m not supposed to get involved with persons of ill repute, so you better have turned a corner. Because damn it, I’m stewing the chicken. And it’s a wet, cold night.”

“You sure?”

“Are you?” she countered.

He grinned. “As long as you promise all hat pins and corkscrews are out of reach.”

“Six,” she said. “I’ll drop the dumplings after you get here. They’re fragile. We don’t screw with dumplings. Don’t be late.”

Five

Eric felt the impulse to run away, something he hadn’t felt in many years. He wasn’t even sure how many years. This time it was for an entirely different reason—for once he wasn’t afraid of being trapped, he was afraid Laine wouldn’t give him a chance. He was afraid she’d come to her senses. That fear was torturously coupled with his overwhelming desire for her, and his willingness to take any risk to make it happen. It was undeniable. He wanted her. It was so new and hot, he didn’t even recognize the emotions.

His last girlfriend, Cara, had not inspired these feelings in him, not at all. He’d been fond of her. More than fond, really—she was adorable. Cute and funny. When they were together, which hadn’t been too often even when they lived together, they enjoyed each other. They had good sex and he’d been tremendously grateful for that. And when she’d told him they were over, he had barely grieved. It felt a lot like saying goodbye to a friend at the train station. Like, “Good luck, be safe, stay in touch if you can, take care of yourself, I’ll be thinking of you.” Even then he knew that the thought of her wouldn’t keep him awake at night. She was a sweet girl. He’d been lucky to have two nice years with her. He was all too aware Cara had never created a fierce hunger in him. They were like roommates with privileges, excellent privileges. Eric had thought that’s what it was supposed to be like.

But now, he ached for Laine.

All through the afternoon he did what he did best—buried himself in an engine and just let his mind argue with itself. He could do the noble thing and let this relationship end before it began because it was destined to be a disaster. Well, that was if Laine wanted him as much as he wanted her. She was the law, he was the reformed criminal. She came from an educated, mucky-muck Boston family. He came from a lower-middle-class background in which only his brother-in-law had attended college. She wanted to soar from great heights, he liked his feet firmly planted on the ground. And yet he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Eric’s instincts told him it was a dangerous prospect to want someone with the kind of hunger he felt for Laine. It couldn’t work. He tried like bloody hell to turn back, to call her and say, “Look, let’s not be stupid here, we are not going to last through the weekend and we both know it. Let’s cut our losses.”

Instead, he asked Manny to keep the station open for Saturday evening, asked Norm to open Sunday morning, asked Justin to work with Norm.

“My mom usually needs me Sunday mornings. I have to take her to church,” Justin said.