Love in Bloom

by Alison Kent

"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 Ne
w 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?"

  The chaos unfolding outside in the gardens of Blooms, Eva's thriving nursery, was nothing compared to the chaos that had insidiously found and pulled the one loose thread in the tightly woven fabric of her life in Lake City.

  Her staff would have to muddle along without her for the rest of the afternoon. Zack would be fine. He could get a ride to his game with Aaron or Ben. She'd make it up to him later. Wasn't she always making it up to him later? Her eyes burned. Her throat constricted. What kind of mother was she that she was always making it up to him later?

  She couldn't think about that now. Now all she could think about was getting away from the shop where her old life had so brutally intruded on her new. Jan would know what Eva should do. Jan always knew what to do.

  Jan and Gerald Holling had been living across the street from Eva since she'd moved to Lake City ten years ago. Jan was a stay-at-home mom, as her son, David, and her daughter, Stephanie, proudly told anyone who asked what their mommy did for a living. Jan had trained the two well even though after twelve years of trying to conceive, she so easily could've given in and allowed the precious two to run the house.

  Before the twins had been born, Jan had also been a godsend in helping Eva with Zack while she was still adjusting to life as a widow and a single parent. From baby-sitting to dinners shared in the Holling household to late-night gab sessions as the two had solved the woes of women around the world and their own woes in particular, Jan had been a constant source of support and the truest friend to bless Eva's life.

  But she'd never told Jan about Carson.

  Eva didn't even bother with parking in her own driveway. Instead, she stopped her van at the curb in front of the Hollings' two-story colonial.

  Jan pushed up from grass-stained, denim-covered knees and had shrugged off her weed pulling gloves before the engine of the minivan had completely died. Leaving tools scattered along the length of the flower bed tucked beneath a boxy bay window, she crossed the lawn as Eva rounded the front of the van.

  "What're you doing here?" Jan asked breezily before her welcoming expression sobered at seeing Eva's no doubt white-as-a-sheet complexion. "Is it Zack? Is something wrong? What, Eva? Tell me."

  Jan was doing all the talking and Eva was the one out of breath. She waved a hand to circulate the still air. "Can we go in? Maybe get a drink? I can't breathe."

  "Sure thing." Jan wrapped an arm around Eva's shoulders and guided her up the path of pebbled stepping stones set in a lawn of lush green. "I've got Coke and iced tea. Or I can make a pot of coffee."

  Eva's chill reached bone deep. Heat was definitely in order. "I was thinking more along the lines of tequila shots. With beer chasers."

  "Oh. Oh, my." Jan quickly lead the way through the spacious house to the kitchen where she put on a pot of coffee. While waiting for the brew to drip, she chattered on about the trouble she was having with a bed of pansies.

  Eva used the time to catch her breath. Jan's voice registered, but all Eva heard were Carson's words. Do you want to talk about new lovers now? Or should we stick with the old ones?

  She hadn't been able to answer. She'd looked into his eyes, seen anger and hurt and ageless humiliation as well as his intention to inflict the same in return.

  At that, she'd turned and walked out of the storeroom, through the back door into the gardens, and toward her minivan parked along the side of the building. She'd waved at Zack's frown and "What's up?" shrug, and driven away without a backward glance.

  For the last twenty minutes, she'd been operating on autopilot. But now the shock was setting in and her hands were beginning to shake. Tucking her fingers beneath her thighs and between warm denim and the cool oak seat of the chair, she rocked her body back and forth. She pulled in slow, deep breaths, blowing them out through pursed lips to the motion of her body and the sound track repetitively running through her mind.

  What was he doing here? What was he doing here? What was he doing here?

  By the time the coffee had finished, Jan had set out cups, saucers, cream, sugar, and a bottle of scotch whiskey. She sat at the oval table, pulling her chair around to face the one in which Eva sat, and poured—coffee first, followed by a double splash of scotch.

  "Now," Jan said, as Eva lifted the warm mug with icy fingers and sipped, grimaced, sipped again. "Booze in the afternoon has man trouble written all over it. But in ten years I haven't known you to have more than a casual date or two or three." Jan frowned. "If that many."

  "Sad state of affairs, isn't it?" Eva waited for the spiked coffee to get busy.

  "Affairs? What affairs? No men means no affairs. At least no love affairs."

  "True," Eva said because it was. True.

  Jan sat back and nodded as she thought. "Hmm. I suppose it could be a business affair that's sent you running for your life in the middle of the afternoon. Or health affairs. Maybe Zack affairs." She pressed tight lips together. "It's Zack, isn't it? And that Katie Crenshaw. Is she preg—"

  "No, she's not." Good grief. Like Eva needed that worry to escalate. Zack and Katie's relationship was never far from her motherly mind. "You're right about the man trouble. My man trouble. Or trouble from a man who was mine. Once. A long time ago."

  "I knew it." Jan slapped her palm on her thigh. Her brown eyes widened, then narrowed, and she got to her feet, transferring the cups and saucers and cream and sugar and scotch to a bamboo serving tray. "Grab the carafe, will ya? This story calls for feet up and hair down."

  They moved to the Hollings' den. Jan set the serving tray on the kid proof coffee table, pushing aside a PS3 controller and a stack of WIRED magazines.

  Eva followed her hostess's signal and plopped onto one end of the cushy brown sofa. Jan plopped onto the other and the two friends sat facing each another, their legs side by side on the center cushion.

  Jan lightly fortified both coffees before settling back to wait. Mug in hand, she studied Eva's face across the rim as she sipped. The look in her eyes was one that let Eva know she wouldn't be leaving witho
ut baring her soul.

  "So?"

  Eva sighed. "It started in New York."

  "When you were there last week?"

  "Yes. And no. The first time it started was nineteen years ago."

  "I don't know about this first time, do I?"

  Eva shook her head. "I don't think anyone knew about New York. Except my mother and Judith."

  "Judith?"

  "Judith Montclair. I modeled for her agency. She was as much of a mentor as my career manager." Eva sighed. She truly thought she'd put this episode of her life behind her, that reliving the time she'd spent with Carson would never be a necessity.

  His appearance in Blooms had caused the past to tumble like an avalanche, burying her up to her ears in sensory memories, the scents and the sounds and even the tastes of the times they'd had together.

  Two years out of a lifetime. Two years that were a lifetime unto themselves.

  "Eva?"

  Eva looked up, shook her head, sipped her coffee, and shuddered at the light burn to her throat. Then she smiled. "He was my photographer."

  "Good grief. You were what, seventeen?"

  "Almost eighteen. And he was twenty when we started working together, so get your dirty mind out of the gutter."

  Jan pressed a hand to her chest and opened widely offended eyes. "Me? Dirty mind? I am shocked. Absolutely shocked you would think something like that of me."

  "I don't think it. I know it. You forget who had her fortieth birthday bash at LaBare's." Eva raised her brows, reminding Jan of their girls' night out last year at Houston's male strip club.

  Jan lifted a haughty nose. "The human body is a work of art. So there."

  "And a genius photographer can turn that work of art into millions."

  "You have millions?"

  Eva chuckled, shook her head. "The companies whose products I sold have the millions. But I did make enough during those two years to support my mother for the rest of her life."

  "When did she die? I don't think you've ever told me."

  "I married Bobby when I was twenty-four. Zack was four. Bobby died the next year. My mother the year after that. So the money I made modeling went to settle a lot of debts." Eva looked into her coffee mug and frowned. "This is empty and I'm talking way too much. I wonder if there's any correlation?"