Alison Kent's Blah Blog

Another, longer tease . . .

**

Before Eva had even stepped around the counter, the front door opened. Three more customers. Great. Time to reassess the personnel budget. Katie Crenshaw, Zack’s girlfriend, often stopped by to help out after school and any Saturdays when she had the time. Today she’d had weekend cheerleading practice, and naturally everything was falling down around Eva’s ears.

She didn’t have a choice. “Mrs. Appleton, why don’t you step out into the garden and find Zachary? He’ll be glad to show you the selection of hibiscus. I’ll be right out as soon as I take care of these customers.”

“Fine, dear,” Mrs. Appleton said, taking tiny steps toward the door and waving her handkerchief all the way there. “Zachary!”

Eva grimaced. It looked like she was going to have to spring for whatever piece of photographic equipment her son couldn’t live without on top of his pay.

She blew out a puff of steam and looked around. Two of the customers had walked outside to the garden. She’d take care of the couple after she finished with the third.

She found him, or at least heard him, clinking bottles of liquid Diazinon on the back shelf. She came around the corner and stopped.

“Can I hel—”

“Hello, Eva,” said Carson Brandt.

Oh … my … God.

He was as beautiful as she remembered, as gorgeous as any man had the right to be. Eva’s legs went numb; her feet, her knees and every muscle from ankle to hip. How she remained standing, she didn’t know. Especially when the paralysis spread up her spine, radiated across her shoulders and down her arms, freezing the tips of her fingers.

“Carson. What the … why are … how did you find me?” she finally managed. She squeezed her fingers to get the blood moving. It didn’t help—even with a heart rate near detonation.

He shrugged, the ends of his honeyed hair catching in the open collar of his white oxford shirt. His smile was a curl of lip that reminded her of his taste. “Find you? I didn’t know you were hiding.”

“I’m not. Hiding, that is. I’m just surprised to see you here.” And why in the world are you here? she mentally screamed, then calmly added, “I didn’t think Lake City, Texas had any reason to warrant a photojournalist from the API.”

“I’m on assignment in Houston. The International Summit.” Glittering eyes narrowed, he studied the interior of the shop and, as if he suddenly needed space, took a step back and limped to the far end of the aisle.

Glancing down to see his left foot shod in a brown leather sandal and his right in a walking cast, Eva followed. “What happened?”

Carson stopped, turned, and caught the direction of her gaze. “Just some trouble in the trenches.”

“The trenches. Of course.” His arrogance still amazed her, but she could beat him at nonchalance—even if her heart had skipped a beat at the mention of danger. “Which war was it this time?”

“Urban America.”

“Oh, well. There’s no place like home,” she inanely remarked. He was standing too close, blocking her forward motion, leaving her no option but to stand her ground. Or to do the unthinkable— about which she was thinking—and retreat.

She reminded herself that she’d gotten over him years ago. “So, are you on your way back to Houston?”

“I’ll head back later. Tomorrow, maybe. A colleague of mine is covering tonight’s festivities.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re actually working with someone?” Eva’s eyes widened.

Carson was silent for a long, intimate moment, and Eva’s heartbeat fluttered. His blue-green eyes, so at odds with the rest of his fiery coloring, had always brought to mind an oasis. A cool respite from the heat of his passion.

This time she thought of blue flame, feeling the sizzle on her skin.

Then he blinked, breaking the spell. As Eva struggled with the mechanics of breathing, Carson shoved his fists in the front pockets of his khaki slacks. He pulled out a film canister and bounced it in his palm. His smile, when it came, was self-deprecating.

“Hard to believe, huh? That I’m working with someone.”

Unbelievable didn’t begin to cover her shock. This man who had to have imminent control and product perfection had turned over his assignment to another? “Actually, yes. It is.”

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, the veins in his forearm dark against his tanned skin. His smile vanished. “Almost as unbelievable as finding one of the top fashion models from nearly two decades ago wearing mud and manure.”

Of course. New York. He’d seen her in New York. And Judith had insisted that he never spent time in the city. “The fashion shoot. That’s how you found me.”

“It was easy enough. After I saw you with Judith, I knew why you were there.”

“I’m surprised Judith told you where to find me.”

“Judith didn’t. It was the receptionist at the Montclair Agency.”

She wanted so badly to roll her eyes, but the truth was the truth. He’d been an obsessive perfectionist about his craft and a bear of a grouch to boot, but he could’ve talked a beggar out of his tin can full of change. “The Carson Brandt charm, no doubt.”

He shrugged and shoved the film canister down in his pocket. Picking up another brown bottle, he read the label, then set it back in place.

The clink of glass slid down Eva’s spine like ice cubes. She rubbed her hands over her arms. The chill remained. It was shock, she told herself. And maybe a remnant of attraction. Both were understandable reactions. She’d shared incredible passion with this man, a knowledge that ran in her blood.

Okay. She’d catalogued the response. Now to play it cool. Carson would never know of his effect on her—as long as her teeth didn’t start chattering.

Aligning the bottles on the shelf, Carson finally stepped back and looked Eva straight in the eye. A million and one thoughts walked through his expression before he exhaled sharply and turned toward the door to the attached storehouse where bags of fertilizer and lawn food were stored.

Eva glanced wildly around the shop for a reason not to follow, knowing all the while that she would. The door swung shut behind them and the immediate silence was encompassing. The earthy and chemical smells swirled close, as did the scent of Carson.

“So, can I help you select something?” she asked, determined to lighten the moment and get him out of her shop so she could settle the uproar that until minutes ago had been her life. “I can offer you the best in mulch, or the newest hybrid hibiscus.”

Stopping short, he brought his fist down on a stack of burlap bags. He stood straight; his eyes glittered in the shadows, blue lights on green. “Doesn’t look like you’ve done much in career advancement. I see you’re still specializing in bullshit.”

Well, now. That hadn’t taken long. He’d deftly reached into the ugly past and pulled it into the present. This was the part she’d been waiting for since she’d rounded the corner into the aisle where he’d been standing.

The same part that, for seventeen years, she’d known would come back to haunt her. “You think what I did all those years ago was bullshit?”

“It certainly wasn’t real, was it? Any of it?”

The accusations in his eyes were clear, and Eva bristled. “New York was a long time ago, Carson. We’ve both come a long way since then.”

“You don’t miss the fame and fortune?”

“Well, maybe the fortune. But the fame …” She shook her head. “I wasn’t ready for that at eighteen.” Neither had she been at nineteen.

“How about now?”

Eva laughed. “Judith practically had to drag me to New York for the reunion shoot. I wasn’t cut out to be a big name star. Unlike you.”

That brought his eyebrows up. “I’m only a star if you know where to look for my name.”

Nice, Eva. “Okay. So I look.”

“And?”

And what did he expect her to say? That she remembered his hands on her waist? His mouth on her body? “It looks like you got tired of the agency, too. I wondered how long you’d stay after I left.”

“What was the point?” He propped both elbows on the stack of bags behind him and leaned back.

Was he trying to hurt her or was he truly being honest? “I wasn’t the only model you photographed, Carson.”

“No, but you were the only one with the magic.”

And the only one who’d put up with his legendary temper. She shook her head. “That was the camera.”

“No, Eva,” he said, his gaze potent and provocative, as hot as the steam in the room. “It was your eyes.”

Eva rubbed at the tiny pain blossoming in her temples. She did not need this. Not now. Not today. Not ever, as a matter of fact. “Funny how things happen to us when we’re too young to know what to do with them.”

“You mean success?”

That, and love, she thought to herself, then glanced up. “Success, yes, and talent. But, then, you went on to make quite a name for yourself.”

“And what about you? What about your talent?”

“I guess you could say I’ve turned my knack for beauty in another direction.” She had mud on her hands, mud on her knees, and more than likely mud on her face. “I realize it’s hard to believe looking at me, but once you walk out in the garden you’ll see—”

‘I didn’t come here to see your garden.” The dizziness began again. The cold, the frantic heartbeat. She couldn’t take any more avoidance. “Then why did you come here? To relive old times? To talk?”

Carson straightened, towering over her. “What do two old lovers talk about, Eva? New lovers?”

The man had intimidation down to an art, but Eva was no longer nineteen. “I don’t know, Carson. Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one with the worldwide experience. I’m just a small town girl.”

The upward curve of his mouth was less inquisitive than cynical. “Is that why you left New York? The call of the hometown roots?”

Sadly, Eva shook her head. “I can’t believe it took you seventeen years to ask.”

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said.

“You could have found me,” she challenged.

“Is that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t stop you from looking.”

“I don’t know, Eva. Sounds to me—”

Eyes squeezed shut, Eva shook her head and waved both hands before raising them as twin stop signs. “Stop it. Just stop it. Seventeen years ago we both made a mistake. Let’s admit it and go on.”

“You’re right. I really don’t know why I came.”

She took a deep breath. “Look. Let’s get a cup of coffee. We’ve shared a lot, Carson. The least we could do is catch up on one another’s lives.”

“You mean like old friends?”

“Like friends, period.”

“Do you really think we can be friends?” he asked, his voice vibrant with that intensity she knew so well.

During the brief seconds while Eva searched for the best response, the door to the storehouse slammed open.

“Mom?”

Carson’s eyebrow lifted an instant before his head whipped toward the doorway.

“Mom,” Zack called again, stripping the red bandanna from his head and mopping sweat at the base of his throat. He stopped when he saw Carson, and glanced at Eva, then Carson, then back again. “You want I should handle the other customers or finish up with Mrs. A?”

“No. I’ll be right out, Zack. Take care of Mrs. Appleton and I’ll catch up with the others.”

Zack hovered protectively, a small fact Eva considered a blessing. Carson’s mind was racing to a dozen different and wrong conclusions, she knew, but right now she didn’t care.

“I’ve really got to get back to work,” she said, edging toward the door.

Carson looked down at her, let his eyes move once more to Zack’s retreating back before returning to hers. “Do you want to talk about new lovers now? Or should we stick with the old ones?”