Sherryl Woods - Feels Like Family

Before she could make a dash for it, he’d wiped most of the pie off his face and was on his feet. In an instant, he had his arms around her, his hot, demanding mouth on hers and the remains of that incredible peach pie crushed indelibly into her silk blouse.

Helen figured she could always buy another blouse, but it was going to take a whole lot longer to erase the memory of Erik’s breath-stealing kiss from her head, especially with Dana Sue as an obviously fascinated witness. Dana Sue wouldn’t let her forget it in this lifetime. And since there were still a couple of diners left in the restaurant and this was Serenity, it would be all over town by morning. Helen Decatur, the Sweet Magnolia with the most common sense, the one who got people out of trouble, had just landed in a pile of it.

When Erik finally released Helen from that ill-advised kiss, he cast Dana Sue an apologetic look, then headed for the kitchen. He needed to figure out what kind of insanity had possessed him to first taunt and then kiss a woman like Helen Decatur.

She was a pushy, arrogant, know-it-all attorney, but she was also his boss’s best friend and a regular customer at Sullivan’s. Moreover, on more than one occasion including tonight, she had willingly pitched in to help them out of a jam in the kitchen.

Maybe that was the problem, he concluded. It was one thing to disapprove of the fancy clothes and pretensions, but in the kitchen at Sullivan’s he’d seen another side of her. He’d seen a woman who cared more about her friend and what she needed than she did about such superficial things as her designer clothes. She also checked her ego at the door and did whatever was asked of her without complaint. She did it damn well, too, if he was being totally honest. He actually liked her, most of the time, anyway. Tonight she’d just gotten under his skin for some reason. Despite what he’d said, he did know she’d never choose someone else’s side over Dana Sue’s.

Baiting her, he could understand. Kissing her, well, that was a whole other story, one destined for an unhappy ending. He’d crossed a line, a move for which he’d have to apologize eventually.

Of course, he couldn’t help remembering that she’d kissed him back. In fact, she’d kissed him with such unexpected heat and passion, it had sent him running for cover. He hadn’t run from a female since Susie Mackinaw had planted an unwanted kiss on him in third grade to the accompaniment of jeers from his friends.

No, he amended, pouring himself a cup of coffee and drinking it as he methodically began to clean the kitchen. The truth was he’d been running from women since his wife had died in childbirth. An EMT in Atlanta at the time, he’d been with Samantha in the ambulance after she’d gone into premature labor and begun hemorrhaging. The ride to the hospital had taken an eternity, and even before they’d arrived in the emergency room, he’d known it was too late. Sam had lost way too much blood, her vitals were fading and the baby was too early to be saved.

That was the day his heart had been ripped from his chest, right along with his ability to function in his job. If an EMT couldn’t do something to save his own wife, how could he ever trust himself to help anyone else?

After a month’s leave, during which he’d drunk himself into a stupor every single day, he’d walked into his boss’s office and quit. Gabe Sanchez had argued with him, pleaded with him to get some counseling and then come back, but Erik had known that his days in any career tied to health care were over.

He might have drifted aimlessly after that, but a friend of his wife’s had suggested he go to the Atlanta Culinary Institute. Erik had laughed at the idea at first, but Bree had kept badgering. Her husband had added his support for the idea as well.

“Out of our entire crowd, you’re the best cook, hands down,” Bree had told him. “More important, you enjoy it. If nothing else, taking the classes will get you out of this funk you’re in. Once you graduate, who knows? Maybe you can open your own restaurant or become a caterer or just come to my house once a month and cook for Ben and me and the kids. It doesn’t matter. The distraction is what’s important. Sam would hate what you’re doing to yourself. She wouldn’t want you to grieve forever.”

Erik might have dismissed the whole idea if Bree hadn’t shown up on his doorstep a few days later with application forms. She’d sat right there while he filled them out, then written a check herself, tucked it all in an envelope and taken it with her to mail. Obviously she hadn’t wanted to leave anything to chance.

“Consider it a gift toward your future from Ben and me,” she said. “When you’re running your own restaurant, you can pay us back with free dinners on our anniversaries.”

A few weeks later, he’d been accepted and shortly after that he’d taken his first classes. By the end of the first month, he knew it was the best decision he’d ever made, next to marrying Samantha. By the time graduation rolled around, he wondered how he’d ever considered, much less worked in, any other field.

Then Dana Sue had contacted the school to find a pastry chef, which was Erik’s specialty. He hadn’t been convinced he wanted to move to a small town in South Carolina, but after he’d visited Serenity and seen Sullivan’s, he’d been hooked. It was just the change he needed, a chance to get away from Atlanta and all of its memories. Moreover, Dana Sue had created something special in a community that was trying to turn itself around after some hard knocks to its economy. As all of the reviews had glowingly stated, Sullivan’s was a rare culinary treasure and he was glad to be a part of it.

As for Dana Sue, she was something special, as well. He’d even harbored a vague notion that someday their relationship might move from professional to personal, but it had quickly become clear that the shapely blonde was still in love with her ex-husband.

Even so, Dana Sue, her daughter, Annie, and even the annoyingly unreliable Karen had become his family. And as hard-hearted as he’d obviously sounded to Helen, when it came to Karen what he most cared about was the toll her problems took on Dana Sue, who simply didn’t need the added stress.

Unlike Dana Sue, Helen was not a woman who needed anyone to look out for her, which was yet another reason Erik was at a loss to explain why he’d kissed her so thoroughly a few minutes earlier. He was by nature a nurturer, a self-proclaimed knight in shining armor. The idea of tough-as-nails Helen needing nurturing was laughable.

Then again, maybe the kiss had been inevitable. She was a gorgeous woman, a little too uptight for him, a lot too opinionated. But sometimes just such a mix guaranteed an explosion sooner or later. Now that the kiss was behind him, the steam was released, and odds were it would never happen again.

He was just congratulating himself for making it all seem reasonable when Dana Sue came into the kitchen and joined him at the sink, where he was scrubbing pans. Picking up another pan from the sudsy water, she nudged him with her hip.

“So, what was that kiss all about?” she asked, keeping her gaze on the greasy pan in her hands.

“Pure impulse,” he said, dismissing it.

“Something tells me the impulse has been coming on for some time. There’s something in the air every time you two are in the same room.”

“Tension,” he suggested.

“ Sexual tension, I think,” she retorted, a glint in her eye. “Why haven’t you done anything about it before?”

He rolled his eyes. “Helen and me? Are you crazy?”

“I don’t think so. You’re an incredible man. She’s an incredible woman. Both of you deserve someone special in your lives.”