by Gun Brooke
This didn’t keep her away from Evie’s lap. It didn’t make her stop Evie from shoving her hands into her pants and cupping her bottom. When Evie pushed her back onto the rug while dragging one of the large pillows under her head, she didn’t object. She didn’t prevent Evie from pulling their clothes off.
She wrapped her arms around Evie’s neck and her legs around her waist. No matter how much this scared her, and for whatever reason, she couldn’t say no to Evie.
Chapter Twenty
“Feels like we’re playing hooky today.” Evie winked at Blythe. “Isn’t that cool?”
“Not if you ask Ben.” Blythe refocused on her computer pad. “He wasn’t happy having to wait for that part, whatever it’s called.”
“It’s custom-made, and replacing it will take twenty-four hours. Maybe more. No wonder he’s unhappy. He hates wasting time. I’m going to put our day off to good use, though. We need to go shopping.”
“We?” Blythe’s head snapped back up. “What do you mean, we?”
“You don’t like shopping?”
“Groceries are one thing.”
“Groceries.” She made a face. “Yeah, well, not what I had in mind. I was thinking—outlet mall!”
Blythe looked dismayed. “Like a shopping mall? Clothes?”
“Well, yes. That and makeup, books, kitchenware, that sort of thing. Gadgets.”
“Gadgets?” Blythe perked up. “Like tech stuff?”
“Absolutely.” She jumped to her feet. “No fun shopping alone. You’ve got to come too.”
“Since you’re bribing me with tech stuff, all right.”
Blythe shrugged, but Evie knew her exasperation was facetious. She had an expression of indulgence and looked so affectionate, Evie wrapped her arms around Blythe’s neck.
“You’re such an adorable fake,” she said, smiling widely. “You try to sound like I’m insufferable, but you’re pretty crazy ’bout me, aren’t you?”
“No clue what you mean.” Blythe lowered her eyelids and managed a rather good haughty look.
“No? You don’t think I’m cute?”
“Not in the least. You’re a pain. A shopaholic pain in the a—ow!”
She smacked Blythe’s bottom just hard enough to make a point. Laughing, she tried to avoid Blythe’s lethal tickle fingers. “God, I don’t know how anyone can have such strong fingers, especially since you have the smallest hands I’ve ever seen.”
“They come in very handy.” Blythe tickled her stomach, moving her hands in circles.
“Now, that’s a lame play on words if I ever heard one.” Evie jumped back, out of reach. “Let’s get ready, tickle-meister.”
Blythe stepped closer, but this time, her hands slipped around Evie’s waist and held her close. Looking into her eyes, Blythe squinted, as if searching for something. She could only smile, since Blythe’s expression was so typical of her. Inquisitive, careful, and so damn endearing. She knew better than to even think of Blythe as cute, since that had to feel condescending if you were petite like she was. But she did find Blythe adorable, with the best connotation possible intended. As in “being adored.” That couldn’t be bad.
Blythe rose on her toes and kissed her quickly. “All right, my shop-loving girl. Let’s go.”
Laughing, and feeling almost giddy, Evie returned to the bedroom to change. It was true. She did love to shop.
*
Blythe found that shopping with Evie was as close to having an out-of-body experience as she’d ever been. The range of emotions Evie displayed would have satisfied any social anthropologist, and it turned out to be surprisingly good camera fodder. To not attract attention she had brought her smallest point-and-shoot camera. This made her work inconspicuous and didn’t alert anyone to Evie’s identity. Also, not all stores permitted photo shoots.
“Oh, look.” Evie held up a pastel pink cardigan. “My color, right?”
“Um. Pink?” She groaned inwardly, but Evie’s bright eyes were irresistible. “Okay. Put it on.”
Evie tried on the cardigan and tied the belt. It was actually a great color against her dark hair.
“Very pretty. It suits you.”
“Yeah?” Smiling broadly enough to light up the whole store, Evie placed the cardigan in her basket. “This comes home with mama.”
“God.” Muttering under her breath, she mustered some more patience.
“Don’t look so long-suffering,” Evie said, and winked. “The next store, just around the corner, is your kind of thing. A tech-geek place.”
“Tech is good. But geek?” Deliberately raising an eyebrow, she pursed her lips. “Really.”
“Brookstone.”
Blythe wasn’t about to confess that Brookstone was one of her favorite guilty pleasures, but when Evie winked at her she guessed her expression gave her away.
“It’s okay to be excited.” Evie signed the credit-card slip and received her bag from the salesclerk. “Thanks.”
“I am. I’m very excited. Close to exuberant.” She strode out of the store and into Brookstone. Soon she’d lost herself among the gadgets and only realized that time had passed when Evie cleared her throat and tapped her on the shoulder.
“I hate to cut this shopping spree short, but I’m hungry. My stomach’s saying food court.”
“Hmm?” She looked up from the Bluetooth speaker she was examining. “Court? What court?”
“Food court. God, woman. You sure have a one-track mind. I’ve never seen anyone focus the way you do. Except perhaps last night.”
“What?” Scandalized, she jerked her head up. “Are you crazy?” She scanned the immediate aisle. Nobody seemed to pay any attention.
“No. Hungry. As in starving.” Evie tapped her foot and peered into her basket. “You getting all that? I’m impressed.”
“No. This is my second basket.” She shrugged, trying to sound casual. “And yes, yes, I know. Calling the kettle black and all that.” She marched over to the cash register. As she paid for her items, she kept an eye on Evie, who stood waiting by the entrance with one hip pushed out, thumbs hooked in the waistband of her chinos, the mandatory baseball cap pulled down to her eyebrows. She wasn’t wearing sunglasses indoors, but she wasn’t easy to recognize like this anyway.
“Oh, goodie. I’m thinking Thai food,” Evie said, and linked an arm with hers when they exited the store. “God, can you manage? That looks heavy.”
“I’m fine. Thai? Yes, that sounds great. Love Asian food.”
“Great.”
She couldn’t stop looking at Evie. Happiness bubbled like expensive champagne under her skin. Today looked like it would be great.
*
Evie gazed at Blythe as she finished the last of her food. She might be overstepping boundaries, but she had to ask. If Blythe insisted on being in her corner, facing off with her family, then she ought to do the same thing.
“Does your family still live in Myrtle Beach?”
Blythe dropped her fork. “What? Oh. As far as I know. My parents, anyway. I’ve sent my yearly ‘I’m alive and well’ note to the PO box they’ve had forever.”
“Do you ever hear anything back?”
“No. I haven’t shared my address or my own PO box. In the beginning I just didn’t want to, and now what would be the point?”
“Um. Closure?”
“For whom? Me?” Blythe folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t need it. What happened…happened.”
“Still, Blythe. Wouldn’t you want to see your siblings? You may have nieces or nephews, even.”
A flicker of something painful darted over Blythe’s features, forceful enough to hit her like a fist. “Any particular reason you bring this up when we’re in a public setting, conveniently just outside Myrtle Beach?” Blythe glared at her with narrow eyes.
“No. I mean, perhaps that’s why I thought of it, since we’re here. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Of course not. Bringing up the fact that I’m estranged from
my family, who just happen to live minutes from here, while we’re on this shopping spree that came on just like that. Do you think I can’t see straight through your ploy, Evie?” Blythe’s voice was low and soft, but the way her words came out between clenched teeth showed what a mistake this was.
“I’m sorry. Just forget it, okay?” she pleaded. “I was only trying to help.”
“Commendable, but in this case, redundant. Just leave my past alone. It’ll make life much easier for both of us.”
“So that’s how you feel when it’s about you, huh?” Becoming angry, she placed both elbows on the table and leaned closer. “When it’s about you and yours, I’m supposed to clam up like a good little girl because I don’t understand shit, do I? You, on the other hand, take the opportunity to make that abundantly clear when it’s about me. When my well-being is on the line, you step in, and I, like some grateful fool, take that as a sign of…of caring and just as stupidly assume that you’ll see it the same way.” Dismayed at how her lips trembled, Evie pressed them hard together and stopped talking.
Blythe had paled but still had her arms folded as a shield between them. “You’re good at manipulating, aren’t you?” Blythe gasped quietly. “You turn it all around, make it about you, and try sending me on some guilt trip. It’s not working, so knock it off. We’re not talking about my parents, or my siblings, anymore. And we’re not going to look them up and seek some sort of closure. I want to go back now.” She stood and grabbed her bags. “You coming, or should I arrange for some other transportation?”
“I’m coming.” She stood, her movements jerky as she took her bags and walked toward the parking lot. She racked her brain, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Sometimes talking with Blythe was like navigating a minefield, but she refused to give up. She might not be able to convince Blythe to see her family, but they had to get to the bottom of this. If Blythe was going to react this way whenever Evie approached something she considered off topic, they’d never have a chance to…to find any kind of future.
She stopped walking, staring up at the sky. Blue and not a cloud as far as she could see. Around her, she heard traffic and distant voices from other people going to and from the shopping mall. Life, happening all around her. Her head ached a little and she became dizzy for a few seconds.
“Evie? What’s wrong?” Blythe still sounded slightly standoffish, but there was concern in her voice.
“I’m good. Okay. I’m okay.”
“You sound strange.”
“No. I mean it. I’m fine.”
“Now you’re scaring me. Let me drive, all right?” Blythe plucked the car key from her hand and she let her. If Blythe wanted to drive, so be it. God knew she drove enough on the racetrack for the most part.
She gazed up at the sky and knew she’d never forget this fantastic blue nuance or the mundane sounds of the shopping-mall parking lot. After all, this was the exact moment when she’d realized she’d fallen in love with the infuriatingly impossible Blythe Pierce.
Chapter Twenty-one
Blythe kept her distance after the drive back to the beach house. She spent the first hours on the deck, writing longhand notes in her journal. Needing space, she was grateful, and strangely heartbroken, that Evie stayed in the living room with her laptop. Evie was clearly furious. Probably hurt too, but she didn’t realize, couldn’t know just how things were. It wasn’t possible to go home.
If it had only been about her, about the way she’d suffered as a kid, then perhaps. But her brother had been hurt, and her parents had blamed her one time too many. She had thought she’d come to terms with it, put it behind her, but being here, with familiar views, scents, and even the local accent, brought everything back. Damn it. It was like the twenty-four years had vanished and she was as skinless as she was back then.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered to herself as she nearly pierced the paper with her pen. She wasn’t that ghost of a kid anymore. A lot had happened since then, and she had been to hell and back on her assignments, but that didn’t seem to matter right now. Clearly all the things that transpired when she was eighteen were still unresolved and simmering just under the surface. She always took care of all the pain by pushing it back so hard it hid in whatever foxhole in her soul it might fit. If she shoved hard enough, it might not reappear anytime soon.
Pretending to unpack her tech purchases, she spent a few hours in the guest room, trying to muster interest in them. She looked at the gadgets and felt nothing of the happiness she’d experienced when she bought them. The void in her seemed to grow into an abyss, a crevasse of unknown depth. It wasn’t so much her past, her adolescent trauma, but the fact that she just couldn’t speak to Evie. Not being able to communicate with the woman she was meant to document was bad enough. Not being able to reach the woman she’d come to care about was even worse.
I’m not helping. I’m doing exactly the opposite. Emotional outbursts like this might damage Evie’s focus and screw up her concentration. She couldn’t live with herself if she caused another person’s injury. Especially not Evie. The hours she had spent sitting by her concussed brother’s bedside had marked her. Having to do that again, with Evie, for something she’d done, or could have avoided, would kill her.
Her heart hammering, she walked to the door and saw Evie sitting on the couch in the living room. “Evie?” she said quietly.
“Not now, Blythe, okay?” Evie kept her eyes locked on the computer screen. “I’m busy.”
“Okay. Sorry.” She tiptoed to the kitchen and grabbed a quick sandwich and some instant coffee. It didn’t have any taste. Finishing it off with a glass of water to rid herself of the lump in her throat, she passed Evie, who typed fast with an intense expression. Perhaps she was chatting with one of her friends. Probably telling them about the hopeless photographer she was stuck with. Perhaps it was time to find other accommodations after all?
“I’m going to bed. Good night.” She didn’t wait for a reply but closed the door. She felt sick inside, her stomach rolling in nauseous waves. She wished she’d been able to dig for the courage she needed to talk to Evie. Her entire being seemed to be locked inside some self-induced cage. Not even her usual method of trying to picture the worst-case scenario worked. She couldn’t even imagine what Evie would say after all the disdainful words she’d thrown at her earlier.
She showered, hot water to scorch any residual pain away, but couldn’t stop trembling. She put on sweatpants and a long T-shirt that dwarfed her completely, but she didn’t care. Tugging the bedspread and blankets tightly around her, she was pretty certain sleep wouldn’t come, but at least she was warm.
*
Evie stood in the hallway and looked at the closed door to the guest room. When Blythe had said good night, she had assumed she’d still sleep in her room. Clearly she had underestimated how angry Blythe was. Or hurt. Or both. She had somehow overstepped some invisible boundary with Blythe. She hadn’t realized just how open the wound was regarding Blythe’s family. Since she had shared the embarrassing scenes with her own father and grandfather, and confided in Blythe, she’d thought it would be the same for Blythe to reciprocate that trust. Obviously a mistake.
Suddenly so tired and with a budding anger simmering, she pivoted and walked into her bedroom. Only her sheer terror of sleeping in confined quarters made her keep the door open.
After completing her evening ritual, she climbed into the bed, which seemed too big and too cold without Blythe there. She curled up in the center of it, hugging a pillow close to her stomach. Too late, she realized it was Blythe’s pillow, and the other woman’s scent surrounded her, filled her senses.
She whimpered and pressed her lips against the pillow in her arms. She inhaled greedily, wishing she could wrap her arms around Blythe instead. She wanted to tuck Blythe in under her chin, hold her tight, and just feel safe.
Instead she tugged impatiently at the covers, pulling them up almost over her head. With the darkness lit up only by the n
ight-light, she worried about nightmares and what tomorrow would bring. No matter what, she had to clear the air with Blythe before she resumed her training. Any distractions could be fateful when you drove an average of more than 200 miles per hour.
Evie thought of how Blythe had displayed such loyalty when Mal and Harrison showed up. It cut deep that Blythe wouldn’t let her help, let her in, the same way. Sure, they hadn’t signed any agreement to share alike; that was a utopian idea anyway. Life didn’t work like that. Then again, until lately, she hadn’t thought life would bring her a person like Blythe. Was it perhaps a sign that when they were on the same page, life was wonderful, and when things went awry, it was pure hell? And if that was the case, what kind of half-assed sign was that? It didn’t tell her anything. Unless fate was just wagging its tongue at her, thumbs in its ears with fingers spread.
Eventually she fell into an uneasy sleep, clinging to the pillow while whispering Blythe’s name.
*
Evie sat up in bed, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it as well as feel it. She tried to judge what woke her up. The wind hit the window, but she didn’t think that was it. Then a hard bang, a resounding thunder, echoed across the water. A thunderstorm.
She drew a deep breath. Blythe. Blythe hated thunderstorms. She threw off the covers and got up. After she hurried across the floor, she opened Blythe’s door, not even thinking to knock first. She squinted into the darkened room, only lit up by the faint light from her own room across the hallway. A small figure sat huddled against the pillows, her face a pale oval in the darkness.
“Sweetie. You okay?” She sat down carefully on the bed. Grasping Blythe’s hand, she was shocked at how cold it was. “You should’ve come to me. You hate thunder.”
“I…you were mad at me, and I couldn’t bring myself to…” Blythe drew a deep breath and shuddered as another bolt of lightning lit up the room, immediately followed by a deafening thunder. “Oh!”
