His eyes fluttered closed, and he reached up to cup her cheeks. “Our rules, Laire.”
She rested her forehead against his. “Our rules, Erik.”
“Our rules,” he whispered again, then smiled, laughing softly with happiness, and she smiled with him, vibrating with wonder, leaning forward to press her lips to his and seal their promise.
***
Freshly showered and shaved and dressed in pressed red Nantucket shorts, a blue and white striped dress shirt with rolled cuffs, and Top-Siders, Erik hopped down the last two steps with a spring in his step. It was one o’clock on a bright sunny day, and he was going to spend the rest of it with his favorite girl.
“Well, my goodness, Mr. Handsome! You’re up late today!”
He pivoted around in the front vestibule to find his mother approaching from the living room, a huge vase of blue and white flowers in her hands.
“’Mornin’, Mother.”
She offered him her cheek, and he kissed it.
“It’s afternoon.”
“Slept in.”
“Makes your father see red, you know.”
“Good thing he’s spendin’ most of the summer in Raleigh, then.”
She smiled indulgently. “Looked over those law books he left for you?”
No. “Took a peek.”
“Better take more than a peek by the time he gets here next weekend,” she said, an edge in her cultured voice. “One more year at Duke, and then you’ll be in law school. Wouldn’t hurt to be a little prepared, now, would it?”
Hiding a grimace, he turned away from her, plucking his car keys from a bowl on the sideboard by the stairs.
“Headed somewhere?” she asked.
“Yep. Plans.”
“Where to?” He turned to grin at her, and she nodded knowingly. “I’d wager there’s a girl involved.”
“You’d win that bet, Mother.”
“Secret plans every night. Now today too,” she hummed. “Makes a mother wonder.”
He gave her a look. “Wonder what, exactly?”
“Who my handsome boy is headed off to meet at all hours of the day and night.” She giggled like a teenage girl. “I can only hope that it’s . . . Van?”
“Van?” he asked, so taken aback, he said her name like he hadn’t known her his whole life. His mother thought he was dating Van?
“Miss Vanessa Osborn, you scamp.”
“Oh.”
“You courtin’ her, Erik? I hope you’re bein’ a gentleman. Tillie and Reginald are old friends.”
She used an old, formal word like courting to be charming, but the reminder of their lifelong friendship with the Osborns held a warning. Shoot. She’d really been giving this some thought. Best nip it in the bud before it got out of control.
“No, mother, I’m not seein’ Van. I’m . . .”
As he stared at her expectant dark brown eyes, his voice trailed off, and he finished up this conversation in his head quickly. . . . dating a local fisherman’s daughter who I met while she was delivering crabs to my birthday party.
His chest pinched with misgivings.
Fuck. No.
What a scene she’d make. She’d forbid Erik to see Laire ever again. She’d lecture him about his place in the world and his parents’ expectations of him. She’d tell him in no uncertain terms that the governor’s son didn’t bed the local help. And yeah, all that would hurt his ears and suck in general, but he could handle his mother. That’s not what worried him.
What made his blood suddenly run cold was the thought that Fancy would figure out a way to invade Laire’s privacy and discretion, hunt her down on her little island and make a scene, embarrass and shame her. An overwhelming protective instinct—no doubt left over from his Neanderthal ancestors—rose up within him, hot and urgent. No matter what, he would never, ever subject Laire to his mother’s judgment and scorn.
Hell no.
“Well?” she prompted, her expression wary but still curious. “If it’s not Van, who is it? Katie Healy? Stephanie Reynolds-Jones?”
Two other well-heeled daughters of North Carolina who had houses in the Banks. Fuck. She was staring up at him, waiting for an answer, and since he couldn’t come up with anything better on such short notice, he said, “Promise you won’t say anythin’?”
To protect Laire, he’d have to let his mother think he was dating Van, but the last thing he needed was for Van to find out he’d told his mother they were dating. She didn’t need that kind of encouragement, and trying to explain to her that he’d used her as an excuse wouldn’t go over very well.
“I’ll be as silent as the grave,” his mother promised, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, speaking softly as though sharing a confidence with her. “It’s Vanessa. You guessed it. But we want to keep it a secret for now and see how things go.”
“Oh, I just knew it!”
He cringed inside at her enthusiasm but plastered a smile on his face. “We’re takin’ things slow, Mother. Now, don’t wreck everythin’ by talkin’ about it, you hear?”