Another Brush of Love (The Carnal Exhibitions Book 3)

by LW Barefoot

  Contents

  Another Brush of Love

  Copyright

  In Dreams

  Come to Terms

  Complications

  Taking Notes

  Due Process

  Homecoming

  Car Rides

  The Sculptor

  Memories and repetitions

  Come Find Me

  Finally

  Found

  Ultimatum

  The Sculptor's visit

  Recovery

  Catch Me

  Morning Light

  Waking trees and truths

  Training

  Late to the Party

  The Sculptor's Recognition

  Make me forget

  Harper

  Truths & Consequences

  Plans for the Lost

  Escape

  Look Out

  Rememberance

  Helpless

  Guarded

  Hell

  The Sculptor

  Harper

  Unmarred Love

  Reconciliations

  Down By The River

  Come Home

  Ash Marks the Spot

  Farewell

  Bows and Bonfires

  Evan

  Temptations

  Acknowledgments

  Playlist for Another Brush of Love

  Another Brush of Love

  Author's Note:

  I am deeply moved by music. Any mention or reference made to actual songs and musicians in this work of fiction is an attempt to share what inspires me.

  Any places, establishments or products I write about is to share my adoration and appreciation for that place or item.

  However, this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents either are the product of my imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015, 2016 by LW Barefoot

  Cover Image © Shutterstock

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9971815-2-4

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights.

  Harper

  I’m drowning under tidal waves. The peaceful sway of lapping waves disappears as I give up.

  The further I fall, the more comfortable I am with giving up. Darkness offers its repose and I welcome it. I stop clawing my way to the surface. The letting go washes over me with an equal measure of relief and regret.

  In an instant, my heart bolts as if struck. There’s an indestructible rope tied around it and it pulls me out of the depths. The pitch of his voice penetrates the tangled threads that bind me up, waking me completely, and reminding me I can’t give up yet. It isn’t him only his voice hundreds of miles away.

  Grayson holds the phone and hasn’t realized I’ve woken up. Evan yells my name with such affliction in his voice I know he’s hurting as much as I am. When I answer him, say his name, Grayson hangs up, breaking that tiny connection to the only person I need.

  I fight to take the phone away from him to hear Evan’s voice. I need to make sure he’s okay because I’m everything but that. My pulse pounds heavy as I grasp for that lifeline. There is an ache in my chest his voice saved and created.

  Grayson holds me and lets me cry. Softly tugging the ends of my hair and telling me I would come to understand.

  “I heard him, Grayson. Please stop lying to me.”

  I fight against Grayson to get to his phone. Treating him as if he is the thing standing in Evan and I’s way.

  He wipes my tears away when I give up.

  “It will all make sense, trust me,” he whispers in my ear.

  After what feels like hours, Grayson smirks and brings up the fact that tonight was the first night I didn’t panic when he woke me up. Since the first night we came here, he shakes me from my nightmares. And every time he does, I flinch as his deep eyes appear like the shallow ice of the Sculptor’s. It always takes me a few minutes to slow my rapid heart and clear my vision. The Sculptor’s face fades and morphs back to the caring face of Grayson. I smile against the pillow that creases my cheek.

  “Please don’t take it personal, Grayson. I’m an absolute wreck.”

  “I never have, but you’re not a wreck. You’re getting better. You’re getting stronger.”

  “Thanks to you,” I say and I mean it.

  “That wasn’t my voice that broke you free and brought you back,” he reminds me.

  Grayson shifts to turn the lamp off on the nightstand. He sits on the edge of the bed and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “Do you need me to stay until you fall back asleep?” he asks with his back turned to me.

  “I think that might be crossing a line,” I murmur.

  “I would never let anything happen between us. I might have fallen a little for you, but I love Evan more,” he swears and holds my gaze. His confession confirms what I knew about him all along.

  “Then come lie down and try not to wake Ru’ up.”

  I fall through dreamless sleep with the truth stretching between us and Grayson’s back to mine. If for nothing else but to pass the time and I feel it with every beat of my broken heart.

  Harper

  The Miami sun is hot across the back of my shoulders as I stare at the blank canvas in front of me. I twirl the brush around and around in my hand. The fibers are dry without a drop of paint on them. I run the bristles over my palm as I look over every tube of paint Brad and I bought yesterday.

  In the store, I had no idea what I was going to come up with or what type of paint I would prefer to use today. Two acrylic tubes of sap green somehow made it in the basket. I usually mix my own. I use it for moss and then the real reason dawns on me why I had to have the shade. It reminded me of the green I need to get lost in, but it’s too far away.

  The night we left the plantation Grayson asked if I was inspired to paint and I answered with a resounding no. Two weeks later, I’m afraid the answer remains the same. I’ve been trying to conjure up some kind of creative trigger, but nothing comes to me.

  The sliding glass door opens behind me and Ru’ rushes out from under the easel and into the air conditioned condo. I turn around as Grayson hands me an iced coffee.

  “Have you made a decision?” he asks.

  “I can’t come up with anything,” I confess.

  I’m not talking about the lack of content on the canvas or paint on my brush.

  “It’s not safe for you to go back to New Orleans and Phoenix isn’t an option. That’s only two cities in the world where you shouldn’t go,” Grayson explains.

  “Have you ever had to make that decision?”

  “Most people would love to uproot and choose to go wherever their heart desired.”

  “My heart is stuck in New Orleans. There’s no other place I would rather be.”

  He sets his mug down. The porcelain clanks against the glass table top and sounds like an exhausted huff. Brad comes out the door with a frozen chicken broth pop for Rufus and sits down in one of the wicker seats. The tightly woven wood groans with his weight. When Ru’ jumps up, Grayson and I both laugh.

  “You testing out the furnitur
e?” I ask Brad.

  “It’s held us up this far,” he smirks behind dark shades. “What are y’all talking about?” Brad asks.

  “I’m trying to help Harper pick where she wants to go. She can’t go back to New Orleans. It’s too dangerous,” Grayson instructs, shifting us back to uncomfortable waters.

  “Yeah, I know all about the crime statistics.”

  “Cute, Harper,” Brad smirks.

  “I’m telling the truth,” I smile at him.

  “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here, either. I don’t like that you’re involved in whatever it is Anthony has planned,” Grayson changes routes.

  Anthony’s the reason we’re here in Miami. Grayson needs to convince Anthony to trust Evan. Grayson was on his way here the night everything blew up at the plantation. I somehow caught Anthony’s attention and he hasn’t let me forget it since.

  “What if I can help?” I suggest.

  “I think you’ve done enough. Evan’s already threatening me to at least get you and Brad talked into Charleston and away from all this.”

  “Isn’t Charleston another port city in the South?” I smirk.

  “What’s your point?”

  “I’ve been paying attention.”

  Brad’s usual demeanor shifts. He sits up straight and pulls the sunglasses off his face. Our gazes lock with mutual understanding. The kick of his lips spells out that he’s on my side. He wants to go home as much as I do.

  “If we leave, won’t that send a mixed signal to Anthony?” I ask.

  “He’s easily distracted. He’ll forget about you in a day or two,” Grayson says in all seriousness.

  “Ouch,” Brad laughs.

  “If you think so, since you know him so well. What is it exactly that Evan took from him?” I prod.

  “It’s in the past,” Brad answers cutting off Grayson.

  “Maybe for everyone except Anthony. It must have been significant enough for him to want revenge.”

  Brad’s jaw ticks from irritation. Grayson is harder to read.

  “Let’s just say there’s a Carrera family member that got mixed up with the Hawthorne’s that has never made it back home,” Grayson says as if he’s not a Hawthorne.

  He must be referring to the woman he ‘took’ away from Evan. Evan’s mentioned Anthony. All of a sudden all the pieces click in place.

  “Evan mentioned something about finding her with you, but you kept her alive. So where the hell is she if she didn’t go home?”

  “She’s with Joe. She has been this entire time.”

  “Does Anthony know that?”

  “I don’t think so,” Grayson says. “But that could explain why Joe pulled the stunt he did with you. He treats women as objects and has his ace of spades in his back pocket. If anything goes wrong between Joe and Anthony, Joe would use Gisele as leverage. And Anthony would grant whatever Joe wished to get his sister back to his family.”

  “So let’s use that to our advantage. You need to find out if Anthony is distributing more than Joe’s drug shipments. He treats me like a piece of meat regardless. I might as well try to find out what his plan is,” I confess tossing my brush on the coffee table.

  “Harper, I think it’s pretty clear Anthony wants more than just conversation if you know what I mean?” Brad wiggles his eyebrows like a teenager.

  “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. And if you want to show me how to hold my own, then let’s go down to the beach and get on with it.”

  Brad’s face lights up as he stands. The wicker settee lets out a groan of relief. Rufus follows him back inside.

  “Anthony wants more information on Evan. He’s lost his trust in Joe, but he’s been skating the issue because of his sister. Now that Evan has taken over Hawthorne Holdings, he’s in charge. You need to help convince Anthony that Evan can be trusted,” Grayson says.

  “And how do I do that?”

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something. If we can get Evan and Anthony to work together, we have a better chance of getting Joe a conviction that will stick.”

  “How do I do that and not make it obvious?”

  “Anthony’s not known for his subtleties.”

  When I walk past Grayson, he stops me.

  “Harper, if you do this, if you dig any deeper into our world, you might not ever make it out.”

  I walk away from Grayson understanding exactly what I’m getting myself into.

  Harper

  Anthony’s hosting a dinner party tonight. I think we’re all tired of the choice in cuisine. It ranges from Cuban selections to fresh seafood that doesn’t have enough spice or flavor.

  The three of us start rattling off the first place we’re going to eat when we get back home on the drive to the Carrera estate. Brad jokes about me carrying around a hot sauce bottle in my purse, but I know he’s serious.

  Brad drops us off in front of the massive steps leading up to the sleek modern home. The security guards that litter the property hold their weapons as opposed to Evan’s who hide theirs out of sight. The palm trees and machine guns make me miss oak trees and hidden revolvers.

  We’re patted down rigorously before we’re granted access to the house.

  Grayson doesn’t seem interested at all in showing me around but it’s a good excuse to get away from the crowd.

  The house is contemporary with modern lines and open windows highlighting the massive stretch of beach at the back of the house. The infinity pool is the most impressive aspect as candles float on the surface and ripple with guests wading in the water. The people outside seem more relaxed than the others who arrive and remain in the house.

  I don’t miss how Grayson studies the other guests and measures them up. Women bat their eyes at him and try to capture his attention. He moves us away from the view of the pool because of it.

  Some of the men straighten their posture when they shake hands with him. The cheerfulness that coats the atmosphere evaporates when Grayson’s presence engulfs the room. As soon as he strolls in the open living area, all eyes are on him and he commands attention.

  After wandering down one of the long halls, Grayson gets caught up in conversation. I motion for him to carry on as I stroll and observe the paintings. Compared to the power plays and loaded conversations, the details of the estate hold my attention.

  I’ve always had a hard time believing Grayson’s reputation held any truth. And oddly enough, I don’t want to find out whether I’m wrong.

  Anthony finds me down a hallway admiring his art collection. He kisses both of my cheeks and hugs me.

  “Do you have a favorite?” he asks motioning to the paintings.

  I’m thankful he knows nothing about me beyond my connection to Evan. He’s only interested in information about him. Whatever he has planned has nothing to do with me.

  The art collection is abstract portraits mixed with contemporary. There’s a connection between the lack of depth in the art and the people he surrounds himself with.

  “I haven’t seen all of them, but I’ll let you know,” I respond trying my best to hide my annoyance.

  “You’re so short with me, Harper. Despite my best efforts, I don’t think you like me.”

  The change in his voice expresses his frustration and it prickles my nerves in awareness. The burnt amber in his eyes swirls with black as his jaw ticks.

  “I didn’t think you considered my opinions at all since I’m nothing more than a plaything, just Evan’s fuck-toy.”

  I have to look away from him as I spit it out. Those words, those degrading terms in which he first referred to me have been whispering through me like a shield I use against him.

  “Ah, now I see what he sees. Sweet Harper, you’ve only made me love you more.”

  But that’s a lie because love isn’t easy or fast or false. He throws that word around like it isn’t sacred as if it means nothing at all. And yet, I’m sure with his good looks and clever tongue it’s gotten him what he wants numerous times.


  “You don’t know what love is,” I say keeping my eyes trailing over the canvases and away from his imposing form.

  “No, maybe not, but you won’t let anyone near you except Evan to find out. He has a funny way of showing you he loves you don’t you think?”

  I didn’t think that at all. Whoever Evan’s showing to the public isn’t me and I know Evan’s truth. I’m his weakness and understanding sets in because Anthony has known all along I’m more than just an easy piece of ass.

  “You’re not going to answer me are you?” he insists.

  “Anything I say, you’re going to use against Evan.” I meet his searching eyes. “I understand not being able to trust maybe better than anyone, but you can trust him. Whatever happened between you two is in the past. Leave it there,” I explain in an attempt to backpedal and move the conversation back to a less personal topic.

  “You could be considered Evan’s past. You stand here in my home and defend him and hold onto that fleeting love you think you shared, but Harper, he’s too selfish to love you or anyone else for that matter. He has you wrapped around his finger and he’s the worst kind of man to give your heart to because he will eventually crush it if he hasn’t already.”

  Anthony’s right and it doesn’t matter. My life would be easier if I wasn’t so complicated if I could choose who I love, but it doesn’t work that way. Evan’s the only person who has cared enough to see me, all of me, and loved me regardless of my scars, both physically and mentally. He saw beyond all the lies I believed about myself and found out for himself that I was worth it. There will never be anyone who could replace Evan in this life or the next. His intensity and determination are the only reason I finally opened my eyes and started living again.

  “You’re so vulnerable to men like me, my sweet Harper,” Anthony whispers as he moves in on me.

  I look around for an easy escape as he engulfs the space around me.