This hadn’t happened to him before. He’d wanted women before, had them, been married, but he’d never felt this helplessness, this madness to hold someone, kiss her until neither of them could think of anyone but the other. This was possessive, out of character and it felt so right it frightened him.

  Heat enveloped him. His body grew hard against hers, seemingly harder the more she melted into him. Blood throbbed through his system, his heart pumping at three times its normal rate. He was close to tearing her clothes off and taking her right in the parking lot. He bumped against the van’s door. The small act reminded him of where he was and the insanity he was contemplating. His mouth slid from hers, his head fell on her neck and he breathed in the scent that was Erin and only Erin, a smell so potent it threatened to overwhelm him.

  She was well and truly driving him crazy. He was so near the edge now he might as well jump. Erin’s arms slackened. They moved from his neck to his shoulders and over his arms until they reached his elbows. She was pinned to the van. He had to move back to give her room.

  He lifted his head. Neither spoke a word. Words were not necessary. He needed some room though, some thinking room. He stepped back, separating them, taking his body from hers. Air rushed between them, a place it had not been able to reach a moment ago. It was warm, but not as warm as the heat between them. It felt as if an arctic breeze had swept in.

  “Good night,” Digger whispered. His voice was almost unrecognizable. It was filled with a passion.

  Erin climbed in the van and, with a wave, drove away. He walked to his truck. On the ground were her shoes, wet still, ruined. He scooped them up as if he were lifting her and put them in his truck.

  Nothing was something Erin couldn’t handle. Digger hadn’t called or contacted her since Friday night in the parking lot. It was nearly two o’clock on Sunday. He was due to take her to dinner soon and she still hadn’t decided what to wear.

  It would have helped if she’d asked where they were planning to eat, but at the time her mind had been otherwise engaged, not to mention her body. Color and heat suffused her at the memory of Digger holding her, kissing her so baldly in the parking lot. She didn’t think the neighbors were looking. Even if they were, few could have seen anything with the helpful absence of any kind of moonlight. What surprised her was her reaction to him.

  She’d been disappointed to leave in separate cars. She’d wanted to invite him home, to her house and her bed. Only the inability to speak had kept her from doing it.

  Erin returned to her closet, which she’d always thought was spacious, but could find nothing appropriate in it. She had shorts and sundresses, countless T-shirts, tops and blouses, but what should she wear? She was running out of time.

  It was the shoes that decided her. Erin looked down and spotted a pair of sandals. She knew she had to wear them. One decision made. Now all she needed was something to go with them.

  When Digger arrived she opened the door wearing a light blue pantsuit. Digger had on a suit. He looked wonderful. Her breath stuck in her throat when she saw him. He smiled, that devastatingly handsome smile that made her forget to speak. She’d forgotten how impressive he looked. It seemed he was more handsome in today’s light than she’d remembered.

  “I’m underdressed,” she said instead of hello.

  “No, you’re not. I’m changing clothes at my sister’s.”

  “Your sister’s?”

  “Yeah, that where we’re eating.”

  Erin felt deflated. “You never mentioned a sister.”

  “We have dinner at her house every Sunday.”

  “We?” This was getting worse, she thought.

  “Usually it’s just her, her husband and me.”

  “But today your whole family is there.”

  “How’d you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

  “That’s how it works,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Ready?”

  “I have nothing to bring.”

  “Bring?”

  Men, she thought. “When you go to someone’s house for dinner, you should bring something, a casserole, a pot-luck dish…something. You brought wine the first night you came here.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We don’t stand much on ceremony.”

  “Why didn’t you say we were having dinner with your family?”

  Erin regretted the question as soon as she saw his face. He was obviously remembering what they had been doing when he invited her to dinner.

  “We don’t have time for you to make something. I’ll just tell her what you told me—you can’t cook. She’ll understand.”

  Unable to refuse, Erin followed him out to the car she’d seen him driving that day in The Warehouse parking lot, when he’d agreed to complete her addition.

  The drive to Digger’s sister’s was short. Erin didn’t have much time to ask questions.

  Luanne Rogers herded her brothers out the back door. She took a bowl of punch and set it on the patio table. The day was perfect. The humidity was low, and it wasn’t too hot. They would be able to relax outside instead of being forced to stay in the air-conditioning to remain comfortable.

  Owen, Brad and Dean had been in and out of the pool several times since breakfast. She’d had to remind them that this was not a pool party, and she expected them to be dressed for dinner. She wasn’t expecting formal wear, but bare chests and tight trunks were out.

  She approached her family as they sat around the yard engaged in spirited conversation.

  “Digger is due soon and remember he’s bringing a guest.”

  “A woman?” Rosa asked.

  “Of course a woman,” Dean said. “What did you think he’d bring?”

  She made a face at her brother. “Since he and Marita—”

  “I don’t want anyone to mention Marita this afternoon,” Luanne ordered. “And for heaven’s sake don’t bring up Josh.”

  “I thought he was over that?” Owen said.

  “You never get over that,” Brad put in.

  “I meant Marita.” He gave his brother an angry look.

  At that moment Digger arrived. He came around the side of the house. Next to him stood the woman they’d all been waiting to meet.

  “Hi everybody,” Digger called.

  “Wow,” Dean said. “She’s certainly not Marita.”

  “Put your eyes back in your head little brother,” Rosa muttered. “She’s too old for you, and Digger saw her first.” She looked at Owen. Admiration was on his face, too. “That goes for you too, Owen.”

  Owen got up. “She’s not too old for me.”

  “Hi, I’m Owen Clayton.” A tall walnut-colored man a head taller than Digger reached her first. Erin shook his hand as the other four members of Digger’s family arrived. Erin knew she wouldn’t be able to keep their names straight.

  Digger introduced them. “Owen is the oldest. He beats me by fifteen days. He lives in Dallas and is an architect.”

  “And one of these days Digger will come back to Dallas and be my builder.”

  Digger didn’t say anything, but gave Owen a strange look. Erin didn’t understand the family dynamics, but, like all families, there was more under the surface than any outsider could ever learn. She did believe there was love between the brothers, especially if Owen wanted Digger to work with him. But in Dallas. That was two hundred miles away.

  “This is my sister Luanne and her husband Mark Rogers. They live here in Cobblersville.” Erin shook hands with both of them.

  “Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” Erin remembered Gillian telling her Digger had a sister. She must be the one who had the accident last week.

  “We’re glad you could come,” Mark said.

  “Luanne works for Child Welfare and Mark is an oil geologist. He consults with all the big oil companies.” Digger turned to a young man of no more than twenty. He had sandy hair and sandy colored skin. “This is Dean. He stays with Owen in Dallas, but attends college in California. He’s studying film-making.”

  “That sounds very interesting.”

  “You’d be a great subject—”

  “Dean.” Luanne stopped him. Then a young woman stepped forward. She was beautiful. Erin thought she looked familiar, but couldn’t place her. She had straight black hair, clear skin that was enviably smooth. Her nose was straight and her eyes bright and clear, although they held a bit of challenge.

  “I’m Rosa Clayton,” she said. Her voice was soft, but it had a confidence that spoke of experience.

  “Rosa is a model. She lives in New York and gets her face plastered all over bus stations and subways,” Dean said.

  Erin placed her then. She’d seen her face in fashion magazines. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Finally, this is Dr. Brad. He lives in Philadelphia and flew all the way here just to visit the family.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Erin remarked.

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  “What do you do?” Rosa asked.

  “I own a nursery school.” She glanced at Digger. “Digger’s company is adding some rooms for me.”

  “Is this the one on East Porter Street?” Dean asked.

  She nodded.

  “That is a very interesting looking house. It would make great footage in a film.”

  “Maybe,” Erin said. “But there’s a big hole in the ground next to it now and more mud than we know what to do with.”

  “That’s it,” Digger interrupted. “Stop gawking and go back to whatever you were doing.” He took Erin’s elbow and led her to one of the patio tables. Erin sat down and Digger straddled the bench beside her. He was close enough to touch. She was glad for the closeness. She felt like a stranger in a foreign land and needed the one person who spoke her language nearby.

  Luanne went into the house. “Is there something I can help you with?” Erin asked.

  “Not at the moment. Why don’t you get a drink? Owen and Dean will help me.” She emphasized their names. The two men got up and followed her, with obvious reluctance, inside.

  Digger got a beer from a nearby cooler and offered her one. She opted for a cola. The drink gave her something to concentrate on. Erin felt as if she were under a microscope. They all looked friendly, but she wondered what they were thinking about her. Except for Dean and Owen, who were definitely showing their admiration, the others’ thoughts were hidden.

  “Have you lived here long?” Rosa asked her.

  “I’m a native,” Erin said. “I grew up in Cobblersville.”

  “It’s a nice town. I like little towns.”

  “But you live in New York.”

  “That’s were the work is. They send me all over the world, but I’ve found I like the little places where people get to know each other.”

  She reinforced Erin’s initial impression. There was more to Rosa Clayton than her good looks.

  “You all look very different,” Erin said. “I have three sisters and we all look enough alike to be mistaken for each other.”

  “That must have been fun in high school,” Brad commented. He was the quietest one in the bunch, Erin thought.

  “We did it a couple of times, but more often than not we’d get caught in something that was hard to get out of.”

  “We’re all adopted,” Digger told her.

  She looked at him. “All of you.”

  “They were all part of the foster care system. Problem children, incorrigible, abandoned, the hardcore unadoptable. That’s what Luanne says about herself,” Mark explained.

  Erin took in small breaths. She couldn’t imagine someone abandoning their child. Children were so precious, it hurt her to think that people abused them or hurt them in any way.

  “Most of us don’t get a chance,” Brad took over the story. “People don’t understand how a child feels who’s been abandoned. We were the lucky ones. We ended up in the home of Devon and Reuben Clayton.”

  Digger slipped his arm around her waist and took her hand. Erin squeezed it, glad of the anchor.

  “They were wonderful,” Rosa said. “They turned our lives around. I don’t want to think what would have happened to us if we’d been lost to a system where people don’t care.”

  “We didn’t give them an easy time of it,” Digger said. Erin could feel him talking. Her back was against his chest and his deep voice thundered into her. “I was thirteen when it happened to me. I lived on the streets, stealing food and sleeping in railroad cars. I was arrested three times and escaped twice. Mom and Dad did nothing but love us. They set up the rules, told us they would back us to high hell if we did the right thing, but they wouldn’t live with people who didn’t want to be loved or be there. Then they left us alone to think about it.”

  Erin knew what he’d decided. What any child would want—the love of a parent.

  “When Dad died of a heart attack,” Mark said, “the entire group decided to change their names in his honor. They were still under the foster care system and underage. Mrs. Clayton went to court and adopted six children of various ages and backgrounds. Only two of them even share the same bloodline.”

  Erin looked from one to the other. Then at the house. She was trying to figure out who resembled whom.

  “Owen and I,” Brad told her. “We come from the same biological parents.” His voice told her he was still bitter over his fate.

  “At the adoption hearing our names were legally changed to Clayton,” Rosa finished.

  Luanne came back with Owen and Dean in tow. Each carried a huge plate or bowl. “Time to eat,” she announced. “Digger, are you going to change?”

  He got up. Erin looked at him, letting him know she would be fine if he left her. “Do you need any more help in the kitchen?” she asked Luanne.

  “Don’t let her,” Digger said, walking away. “She can’t cook. That’s why she came without a covered dish.”

  Erin picked up her empty can of soda and threw it across the lawn at him. He ran forward looking over his shoulder and caught it as if she’d pitched him a ball.

  “He didn’t tell me we were coming until he arrived today. I thought we were going to a restaurant.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Mark said. “Luanne always has enough food for everyone.”

  By the time Digger returned, all the food had been brought out and everyone was passing it around the table.

  “Save some for me,” he said, sliding into place next to her.

  The meal went well. Erin enjoyed herself immensely. They welcomed her into the fold and, for a moment, it made her uncomfortable. She knew this wasn’t Victorian times. This was modern-day Texas. Taking prospective brides home to meet the family prior to offering betrothal was something out of the dark ages. Yet she had the queasy feeling that she was being judged in this manner.

  Shouldering it off, she let herself relax and enjoy the day. She ate and relaxed by the pool. While Owen, Rosa and Dean swam, Brad and Digger stayed close to the patio with Luanne and Mark. Except for Brad, the conversation was easygoing and comfortable. When Digger finally announced it was time for them to go, Luanne and Mark walked them to the car.

  “Thank you for having me. I had a wonderful time,” Erin told them and genuinely meant it.

  “Please come back.”

  Erin smiled and got in the car. The sun was setting when Digger parked in front of her house.

  “You have a wonderful family,” Erin said. “You’re very lucky to have found each other. And to live so far apart, yet have everyone come here. Was this a mini-reunion or something?”

  “Kind of. Luanne was in the hospital earlier this week.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “My best friend is an emergency room nurse. She was there when Luanne was brought in. I didn’t know you had a sister,” she paused. “So they all came to town to see that she was all right?”

  “Basically.” he nodded.

  “That’s wonderful. My family would never do that, not over a minor traffic accident.” She smiled. “I like it. It’s nice. I do have one question though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Brad.”

  “Brad is an enigma to all of us.”

  “He was hurt very badly by the abandonment and he hasn’t recovered from it.”

  “You don’t recover.”

  “I meant, he hasn’t gone on with his life. He’s a children’s doctor, isn’t he?”

  Digger shook his head. “Pediatric surgeon.”

  Erin could only imagine the trauma he’d probably seen.

  “You’re not going to analyze all of us, are you?”

  Erin laughed. “Not a chance. You’re all out of my league.” She looked at him for a moment. He looked happy. One would never know he came from a background of abandonment and childhood hurt. “I had a very good time. Even though I didn’t take anything for the hostess.” Erin looked at him. The car was dark, intimate and she felt close to him.

  “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “I consider it my sole purpose in life to make you remember it every chance I get.” She stuck her finger in his chest to drive her point home. Digger captured it and held it. The air turned hot. The smiles froze on their faces. Applying only a little pressure, he pulled her forward. Erin went willingly. He kissed her, letting go of her finger to run his hand around her neck and into her hair.

  He held Erin’s mouth to his as he teased her with his tongue, tasting her, savoring the sweetness as if it came in short samples and he had to continually open the next package. Erin reached for him, wanting to touch, feel the solidity of his chest, to hold on to his physical being, to have her hand rooted in him.

  The kiss ended all too soon.

  “You’d better go in,” Digger whispered. “Or your neighbors are going to get a show.”

  Erin stared at her hands. She wanted to ask him in. Yet he’d dismissed her. After spending the day with her, inviting her to meet his family, kissing her until her toes curled, he wanted her to leave, spend the night alone. She wanted to spend the night with him, make love, feel him moving inside her. But she knew where it would lead, where it always led. She shifted in her seat and reached for the door handle. Digger hit the locking mechanism and released the door. She climbed out and headed for the stairs. He met her at her door. Erin stopped.