by Alison Kent
She responded with the low throaty moan he’d wanted so badly to hear. “You found both of those without a weapon of any kind.”
He’d let her continue to think that. No reason to reveal his entire arsenal. A man had to keep a few of his specialties to himself. He slowed his tender assault, moved his lips closer to her ear, trailed his finger down her neck, between her breasts, past her navel, to the waistband of her panties.
Once there, he whispered, “But what about your L-M-N-O-P spot?”
For a moment she was still, processing what he’d said. Then she punched him in the shoulder and his straight face dissolved. She was so easy. And so much fun to tease.
“L-M-N-O-P spot. Where do you come up with these things?” She rolled her eyes, gave in to a grin, and settled back.
Carson settled back as well. “It’s good to hear you laugh, you know.”
“What are you talking about? I laugh all the time.” She dismissed his comment at the same time she answered her own rhetorical question.
But he wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily. “You didn’t laugh much seventeen years ago.”
“I couldn’t,” she said, tapping a fingertip to her temple. “Crow’s feet. Laugh lines. I had to protect Judith’s investment. Now, you, on the other hand...” She poked the same finger in the center of his chest. “You didn’t have such an excuse.”
He grabbed her hand before she poked and prodded and probed any further. “I didn’t need an excuse. I didn’t have a sense of humor.”
“I’m glad to see that’s changed.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve noticed.” Good. He was making progress.
She nodded. “I have noticed.”
But then she gave him a look, a lift of brows over all-knowing eyes, and his cocky analysis made a swift about face. She was the one making headway. And he was the one left to feel more than physically exposed.
“I’ve also listened and learned, you know,” she said.
Hmm. He wasn’t sure he liked being such an open book. He thought he’d done a fairly good job of keeping himself to himself. “Learned what?”
She twirled fingers through the hair on his chest. “I don’t think you had much to laugh about back then.”
“I laughed some,” he said, and when her look required proof he added, “When I was with you.” He stroked a finger over her ear, tucking back the short strands of her hair the way he’d so often seen her do when her hair had been long.
Eyes closed, she lifted her chin at his touch. “You didn’t laugh very often. I would’ve remembered. I’ve always liked what your laugh makes me feel.”
Carson drew in a slow deep breath. His finger slowed as well. “Is that why you left? Because I didn’t make you laugh? Because I wasn’t any fun to be around?”
“Of course not. I enjoyed being around you. It didn’t matter if we were working or playing or doing nothing at all.” Like a cat wanting more, she rubbed her head against his hand. “You knew that. I know you knew that.”
He had known that. But he’d been too serious then, too intense, too wrapped up in a work world of his own making to realize what an emotionally lopsided relationship theirs had been when she left.
And how emotionally upside down he’d been since.
“I need to know why, Eva. Why you left.” Rigidity seeped into her limbs. Her features, so relaxed moments ago, grew tense and moody, and he hurried to take a slightly different tack. “I screwed up. I know I screwed up. But I didn’t know what to do with you then. I didn’t recognize the gift I’d been given. You were precious and you were beautiful.”
“I was young and naive and awestruck.”
Her smile was precious and beautiful, and he felt it where he thought he’d stopped feeling. “You made me feel like I was infallible. That I could do no wrong. You never tried to change me.”
“Oh, Carson. Why would I have wanted to change you?”
“If I name every reason, we’ll be here all night.” And if they stayed there all night, he didn’t want it be because of his numerous faults.
“Okay. So, you were a crabby grouch.”
“Ouch.”
She laughed. “Hey, if you can’t take the heat, don’t start the fire.” And then she sighed and her voice grew tender. “I loved all of you, Carson. Even the crabby grouch. I knew that was only a part of the whole. I accepted it. I accepted your impatience. Your ego. Your demand for perfection in an imperfect world.”
“But you’d’ve liked to have changed it all.”
“No, I didn’t say that.” She shook her head. “In the long run, Carson, the only person you have to please is yourself. Because you’re the one you have to live with. Every day.”
“But I wasn’t the one you could live with.”
She laughed sadly, and stroked his shoulder with tender touches while tucking her head up under his chin. “You’re right. I couldn’t. I tried. I really did try.”
From a distance of half of his lifetime, Carson knew that she had. He hadn’t known it then. But now... now... now he could hardly breathe. “Do you want to try again?”
Her fingers stopped. “Now?”
“Yeah. Now.”
Eva sat up straighter. “Did you really come here to see if we could start over?”
“Honestly?” And it was long past time to be honest. He shook his head. “No. I didn’t. I came here to see if I could make you suffer.”
“Why?”
The look on her face, in her eyes, the sadness and the confusion showed that now, when he no longer wanted to hurt her, he’d done just that. Now, when he’d grown beyond the need for the selfish satisfaction of striking back... Now, of all the goddamn times in the world... Now, he had to hurt her.
Didn’t say much for the man he thought he was. For the man he wanted Eva to know.
He had to explain. To see if he was even capable of putting into words the changes this time in her company had made. “Why? Because when I saw you in New York with Judith, you looked so pulled together. So self-confident. Like being back in New York for the shoot meant nothing. That years ago you’d walked away, you’d... really walked away. From me. The city. The memories. And I wanted you to pay. Because I’d never been able to do that. Everywhere I’ve gone, I’ve taken you with me.”
She started to move off his lap. “It’s been seventeen years, Carson. Why would you want to make me pay now for what happened then?”
“To see if I could?” The reason hadn’t changed, the motivation. Once, he’d wanted to make her share his misery. But now... now—
“And?” Eva’s question halted his thoughts. “Did get your answer?”
“I think I did.”
She looked at him, but did so down her cynical nose. “Oh, really. I’m fascinated. Please.” She motioned for him to continue.
The knot in his gut told him he’d better get this right or he could damn well forget growing old with this woman. “It’s not fascinating, Eva. It’s simple. You’re here with me. We just made incredible love. This wasn’t about sex and we both know it. So, yeah I’d say there’re still feelings here. And that means I could hurt you. If—” He held up one finger to stay her interruption. “If I still wanted to.”
“I see. So, now that we’ve had sex—”
“Made love.” He wasn’t going to let her make less of their coming together than it was.
“Now that we’ve ... made love, you’ve changed your mind? About wanting to hurt me?”
He shook his head. “I changed my mind the first night I was here. I was sitting on a bar stool, in fact. Barely sitting, but still upright.”
She huffed. “Epiphanies reached while under the influence don’t count.”
Her pique amused him. As did her efforts to extricate herself from his octopus hold. She slipped free of one arm, but only long enough for him to move his other into place. She wanted distance for the very reason he wanted her close.
He wanted to see her eyes, see how close he was t
o hitting the head on the nail of her feelings. “Actually, the epiphany happened earlier that day. In the storeroom. Of your shop. And trust me, I was totally sober. It just took me a while to sort it out.”
“You’re talking about Zack,” she said, and pressed her lips together to keep from saying anything more.
Frustration had him blowing out a long breath when it would’ve felt so good to yell. “Eva, Zack walked in on us and called you Mom. All I could think was that... my God.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “My God. My son was standing in front of me. A son I’d never known I had. And then. Right then I stopped wanting to hurt you. I stopped because I didn’t want you to have to feel any of what I was feeling.”
“What were you feeling?”
He laughed harshly. The sound grated in his throat. “Like you’d ripped my guts out. You had my son and I had nothing. After all those years of working my ass off to prove... whatever. That I was good enough. That I had measured up to your standards. That the mistakes I made didn’t matter.”
He shrugged off the thought because the reasons were no longer important. “But all I proved was that I’d been right. You really hadn’t loved me. How could you have loved me and kept me from my son for almost seventeen years?”
Tears filled her eyes, hung on her lashes. “But he’s not your son, Carson.”
“I know that now.” He reached for her hand and she gave it. “But I didn’t know it then. The first time you told me was that day in the rain. And I wanted to call you a liar.”
Why?” she whispered, and he barely heard her.
“I wanted something to show for the time we spent together. I wanted to believe what we had had been real. That I’d given you something good, left you with something tangible and worthwhile, despite my selfishness.”
“Selfish? No. Self-involved? Yes. Self-critical? Yes. Self-demanding? Definitely.” He rolled his eyes and she laughed softly. “Carson, you couldn’t even please yourself. How was I supposed to make you happy when you weren’t even happy with you?”
He remained quiet for several moments, realizing how accurately Eva had had him pegged. “Was I that obvious?”
“Not to everyone.” Her mouth quirked with her failed effort to contain a grin. “Most people just thought you were a prima donna.”
“I was a prima donna.”
“Okay. You were. But you were so much more. And if you were a bit... well, uppity, it was part of your artistic temperament.”
“You give me too much credit.” He slipped a finger beneath her chin and lifted. Right now he needed to see her eyes. To see the truth, the reality. “No one has ever believed in me. Not the way you believed in me.”
“Of course I believed in you, Carson. I loved you,” she said, and her smile nearly took him apart.
“God, I was so stupid,” he said, his voice catching on a raw splinter of that realization.
“Aren’t we all at that age? I was years too young to appreciate what we had. And too young to handle it. I don’t think we would’ve lasted.” She sighed, and seemed to grow smaller, shrinking into nothing in his lap. “It’s best, you know. That we never had a child together.”
His nod wasn’t agreement as much as acknowledgment that she’d spoken. “He’d’ve looked a lot like Zack, don’t you think? I mean, the age is right. And the coloring.”
“Unless she would’ve looked like me.” Her voice was sad. almost regretful. Or ... Oh, shit. “Uh, Eva?”
“Hmm?”
He didn’t want to ask because he feared the answer. “Are you still able to conceive?”
For a moment she was motionless. And then she nodded. He felt the movement against his chest.
Carson leaned his head back and stared at the vaulted ceiling. How could he be so stupid? Again. How could he be so stupid? “Christ, Eva. Why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t I stop myself? I’m so sorry.”
She sat up. Pushed her way out of his lap and his legs. Her face was pinched, strained. The picture of resignation. “We have a real problem, Carson.”
He didn’t want to hear this. He really didn’t want to hear this.
She tugged the hem of her top snug to her waist. “Every time we’re together we get caught up in all this grand passion and forget to use our brains. We let emotions drive us. And that can’t be healthy.” She punctuated the couch cushion with one finger. “That isn’t healthy.”
He didn’t like her tone. Or her succinct stating of the obvious. “I guess that’s a problem we need to work on.”
“I’m not so sure we have anything to work on. Listen, Carson”—Eva reached for her jeans—”I wanted what just happened to happen. I wanted to make love with you and I have no regrets.”
“But,” he prompted when she stood to button and zip.
“But I don’t see things changing. Ever.” She blew short feathered locks from her face and looked down. “We are who we are. We may be older and I hope we’re wiser. But just because we recognize what we have between us doesn’t mean we can handle it any better.”
“Maybe not.” He sat up. Stood up. Kept his distance. “But we have made progress. At least now you’ll know to kick my ass when I’m too self-involved. And I’ll know to—” He laughed when she lifted both brows. “I’ll know to pull you into my arms and kiss you senseless when you let me get away with too much.”
She looked at him for several moments. Hundreds of thoughts chased one another through her eyes. Denials pushed aside possibilities to dog the heels of fear. “We’re crazy to even be thinking about it,” she finally said.
“Aha. But we are thinking,” he said, and knew he’d scored a big point.
At least he thought he had until she came back with, “We’re thinking long after the fact, after the deed has been done, after the horse has left the barn.”
He moved closer. He wanted to be sure she heard him. “We don’t have to think all the time, Eva. Passion doesn’t have to stop and think. This connection, this bond we have. It’s unique. It’s rare. Totally one of a kind.”
“It had better be one of a kind.”
His heart flipped. That was almost a declaration exclusivity. “So does that mean you’ll think about, you know, going out with me?”
“Going out?” She frowned. “Like on a date?”
It was nice to know he wasn’t alone in his vernacular confusion. “No. Going out. Like Zack and Katie.”
“Oh. That kind of going out.” She laughed. Then stopped as quickly as she’d started. “What do you know about Zack and Katie?”
“Besides the fact that their eyes are all over each other? Which means—”
She cut him off with a wave of both hands, then crossed the room to turn off both the TV and the DVD player. “No. Don’t say it. I don’t want to know what it means. Because I do know what it means. And I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever else it is they have all over each other.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” Carson leaned across the back of the couch and snagged his shirt from the floor. “Zack’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
She stopped in the process of returning the DVD to its case. “You’ve been talking to Zack? When did you talk to Zack?”
Way to go, Meathead. “We talked awhile this evening. Before he left for the lake with his friends.”
“And you talked to him about having his hands all over Katie?”
“Actually, no. I talked to him about not having his hands all over Katie. Until the time was right. And then to be prepared.”
Eva returned the movie to its slot in the entertainment center, sliding the drawer shut with a control that was eerily silent. She had yet to look Carson’s way. “You talked to Zack about condoms? And sex?”
“We talked about a lot of things.” Carson struggled into the shirt, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to be dressed since it looked like he was about to be asked to hit the road. “And we only talked about sex in the context of responsibility.”
“I see,” was a
ll she said, and she turned to face his way. She took a very deep breath, then blew it out. “Thank you.”
Carson decided to see if he could salvage what was left of the night. “Zack’s a good kid, Eva. He’s intelligent. And he uses those smarts. He’s not going to do anything stupid with Katie.”
“Oh. Right.” She tossed both arms expansively. “Easy for you to say. You’re not his parent.”
“No. I’m not.” He worked on tucking his T-shirt into his khakis. Then he stopped and made sure Eva was listening, really listening, when he said, “But there’s no reason I can’t be a friend.”
She looked like she was going to explode, the way she buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “This is all way too complicated. I don’t know, Carson. I don’t know about any of this. I’m happy here. I have a great life. My business is thriving. My son is thriving... maybe too much.” She let the thought drift unfinished.
“What about you?” he asked softly. “Are you thriving? Are you living life the way it was meant to be lived?” When she remained silent, he went on. “You don’t have to say anything. What just happened on the couch is answer enough.”
Her head popped up. She glared. “You’re talking about sex again.”
He hadn’t meant to go there, but she’d made the accusation. And he wasn’t going to back down. “I’m talking about Eva Channing. Not Zack’s mother. Not the owner of Blooms.”
He stepped closer. “I’m talking about your needs. Simple, basic needs.” He took another step toward her. “Having your neck rubbed at the end of a stressful day. Celebrating a big landscaping project.” He stepped closer still. “And, yes. Sex.”
The word hung in the air, sizzling and popping and hot. With her eyes fiercely bright and her breathing borne on rapid gasps, she retreated. The heel of her boot hit the base of the TV cabinet.
Carson stopped, leaving her only inches of personal space. “Sex, Eva. Making love. Being brought to the point where you want to crawl out of your skin. To the point where you can’t help but scream.”
