by Tracy March
Collin handed her a fresh beer. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and leaned against the kitchen counter, suddenly hesitant to reveal more of herself to him. She took a long swallow of her beer, hoping more of a buzz would kick in and mellow her growing stress.
Collin stepped over and stood facing Ellie, her feet between his. He smoothed his fingers down a lock of her hair. “Everything okay?” She liked that he could sense a barrier, but this time, his reluctance to talk was only half of the issue.
“I just…” She tugged in a deep breath.
He gently pressed his thumb under her chin, and lifted it until her gaze met his. “Just what?”
Ellie sighed. Did he get that she was hesitant to reveal any more of herself to him while he continued to close himself off? Maybe going one more step would get him to follow.
“This might sound strange,” she said. “But, to me, my studio is more than just another room at the end of the hallway. It’s where I open myself up. Take risks. Pour my emotions into my artwork.”
Collin set his beer on the counter and rested his strong hands on her shoulders. “Sacred personal space?”
She nodded. “Where I really struggle with my confidence.”
He drew his head back. “Really? Your artwork is amazing and different. Totally blows away the normal stuff you can just walk past. You’ve even got your own gallery—that’s a huge accomplishment.”
He had no idea that she wouldn’t be anywhere near having her own gallery if it wasn’t for Milly and Merri’s generosity, or that she hadn’t been chosen to exhibit at the arts festival.
“You should be as cocky as I am,” he teased.
Ellie rolled her eyes. But she liked his brand of cocky—confident, yet still down-to-earth.
“What happened to your confidence?” All the humor was gone from his tone.
She pressed her lips together tightly. “Noah.”
Collin narrowed his eyes and lowered his chin.
Ellie took another swallow of beer and set the bottle on the counter, next to his. “When we were in college, he’d tease me about being an artist. He’d say things like ‘Art’s a hobby, not a job,’ and ‘Hopefully that English minor will come in handy when the art thing doesn’t work out for you.’ ”
Collin winced. “Harsh.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t take it seriously. At that point, I was sure I was going to make it—just like so many people at that age. After graduation, we lived in Thistle Bend, and I had the support of the art community at school and here in town. But then we moved to Phoenix, and it was mostly Noah and me. I was kind of on my own with my art. I left behind the base of business I’d built here, and my support system, for him. But he didn’t care.” She lifted one shoulder. “He decided I needed a ‘real job.’ When I started teaching, he said he couldn’t believe kids were taught photography and art, when what they needed was more math and science to get them further in life.”
“Math and science are important,” Collin said. “But so is art. There’s got to be balance.” A glint of anger flashed in his eyes. She’d never seen it there before, but there was no mistaking it. “As for everything else he did and said, that was total bullshit.”
Ellie couldn’t defend her indefensible ex—wouldn’t even try.
Collin smoothed his fingers down her cheek. “You have every reason to be a hundred percent confident in your artwork. Your ex jacked with your head. Now you’re left to work through your emotions about him in your own way, and in your own time.” He looked away, gazing out the window into the near darkness. “My engagement melted down, too,” he said. “So we’re both fighting the same fight.”
Chapter 12
Collin clenched his jaw, staring out the window at the twilight sky. The Mexican food and beer had settled fine in his stomach, until it got all knotted over having to tell Ellie why he’d gone AWOL last night. To put it in context, he’d have to dredge up what had happened with Megan.
Ellie had been open with him. It had to have been hard for her to admit her douche-bag ex had cheated on her—and wrecked her confidence. If Collin wanted a chance with her—whatever that meant—he had to open up some, too.
He inhaled deeply, and blew out his breath with a hiss. This would be a hell of a lot easier if he’d stuck with his rules.
Or would it?
Ellie wasn’t the kind of girl a guy could easily walk away from. He was here again, wasn’t he?
When I find something good, I keep going back for more.
The silence had stretched out too long when he finally said, “I need to tell you about Megan and me.” His chest tightened. “My ex-fiancée.” Man, he hated digging up the saga again. Every time he had to retell the story, it made him question his judgment—something he’d rarely doubted until everything fell apart with Megan.
“When we were dating, everyone thought we were a perfect match—including me. She was easy to be around. Totally dedicated to our relationship.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Ellie said.
“Wish I would have.” He frowned. “As soon as we got engaged, she started changing. It was all wedding plans, and talk about what big-name people might come.” He shrugged. “To be fair, there’s some backstory you should know. Megan’s father is a biotech icon, and the Dowlings are really wealthy.”
Ellie nodded.
“Megan works in development at Duke, so she’s got a fundraising mind, always thinking about money and how to attract it. I guess you could say that’s what she did with me.”
Ellie gazed at him, confusion in her eyes. Clearly she hadn’t taken him for a rich guy—which he wasn’t yet, and that was okay with him.
“Our families are members of the same country club in Durham,” he said. “Our fathers sit on the boards of some of the same companies. So, like I said, everyone thought Megan and I were meant to be.”
“Your father’s in biotech, too?” Ellie asked.
Collin shook his head. “He’s in IT.” He held up his hand, his index finger centimeters from his thumb. “Microchips.”
“Got it.”
“After we got engaged, Megan became obsessed with wedding plans, like I said, and houses. Which neighborhood should we should we live in? Why couldn’t we buy a bigger house? We definitely needed a pool. That kind of thing. And we couldn’t live just anywhere.” Collin grimaced, practically able to hear Megan listing her must-haves, and asking question after question about bigger and better. “You might laugh, but I think I get how women feel about houses and nesting and all that. So I wanted us to buy a place that would make her happy. But I also figured we’d start with something reasonable and build from there. You know, earn it.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Ellie said.
“I didn’t like the idea of getting everything all at once. It can make you lose your perspective.” He shook his head. “Not that I’ve had that experience. My parents always made my brother and me earn our way. Learn the value of a dollar and what it takes to make one. Then we got the satisfaction of knowing we accomplished things ourselves.”
Ellie nodded. “Mine, too. That’s why I’m so determined to make it on my own. I want to make my parents proud. They don’t have much, but they’ve invested a lot in me. I don’t want them to have to sacrifice any more.”
Collin struggled to remember a time when Megan had said anything that resembled what had just come out of Ellie’s mouth. “I respect that. I feel the same way, regardless of my family’s wealth.” He took a slug of his beer and set the bottle back on the counter. “I grew up mowing lawns, working summer jobs, and playing baseball—just like most of the guys I hung out with. But Megan had been…”
Ellie raised her eyebrows.
“Spoiled. And I didn’t find out just how rotten until after we got engaged.” Megan had pursued him, so she’d been on her best behavior. But as soon as he’d put a ring on her finger, the real Megan had started to emerge.
Shallow.
Deman
ding.
Pouty.
“Megan was willing to take her family’s money so we could buy a bigger house with more outdoor entertaining space, or a larger lot. We just ran into a philosophical divide—and it was about more than wedding guests and houses. It was about our relationship.”
“How do you mean?”
“Things stopped being about us.” He bowed his head. “That’s all that really mattered to me.”
Ellie smoothed her hand down the front of his shirt, and rested it on his abs. “Sorry,” she said.
He knew she could relate.
Man, talking about this sucked.
But you’re nearly through it.
Collin considered chugging the rest of his beer. “She started treating me like a prop, not a man she respected. Cared about. Supposedly loved. I got so torn up about it that I considered ending things. But it’s not like me to give up, so I decided to really try to make things work.”
They’d had all their plans, after all.
A spectacular wedding.
A contract on a way-too-expensive house.
But those things paled in comparison to real love and the rest of his life. Because he planned to get married once, just like his parents and grandparents.
Collin shook his head slowly. “One night she called me and told me she’d had a bad day at work. Something went wrong with the bridesmaids’ dresses. One of the tires on her car was going flat. An overall crap day.”
Ellie looked at him expectantly.
“I decided to go over and take a look at her tire. Put some air in it, patch it, whatever. Even picked up some flowers and a bottle of wine on the way.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “There I was, walking up the sidewalk to her townhouse with the flowers and wine. It’s spring, so her windows were open, and I hear her talking to someone.”
“Oh, God.” Ellie had gone a little pale.
“It was her best friend, Olivia. I recognized her voice.”
Ellie blew out a breath, but she still looked worried about what might be coming.
“By the time I got to the porch, I’d heard my name more than once. So I stood there and listened.” Collin couldn’t hold back on the beer any longer. He picked it up and chugged the last third of it. “Before long, Olivia said, ‘Are you sure you want to go through with the wedding? I mean, marriage is for the rest of your life. If he’s not giving you what you want before you say ‘I do,’ you sure won’t get it after that.”
Ellie sank her teeth into her bottom lip, a crease deepening between her eyebrows. “What did Megan say?”
Collin’s heart thudded. He couldn’t believe he was telling Ellie this. He’d sworn that no one in Colorado would hear it. “She said—” He put his hand over his mouth and dragged it down his chin. “ ‘I probably could’ve done better than Collin, but I’m tired of being single. I’m ready to get on with my life.’ ” Megan’s words were seared in his brain.
Ellie’s mouth dropped open and she clutched a handful of his shirt in her fist. “No.” She shook her head. “That is just so wrong.”
He shrugged. “That was it for me. I knocked on the door, gave her the flowers, and broke our engagement.”
“What happened to the wine?”
He gave her a hint of a smile. “I drank it. Had half the bottle down before I was out of her neighborhood.”
“That was rough,” Ellie said.
“Tell me. Wine’s not meant for chugging.”
She laughed lightly. “I meant what happened was rough.”
“It didn’t get any better from there,” he said. “We canceled everything—the contract on the big house in the gated neighborhood, the big wedding with all the important guests.”
“When was that?”
“This spring. The wedding was supposed to be in June, along with the ridiculously expensive honeymoon in the Maldives.”
Ellie scrunched her face. “No palm trees in Thistle Bend.”
“I like the aspens better.”
She went to the refrigerator, took out another beer for him, opened it, and handed it to him.
“My kinda girl.” He tipped the bottle toward her, then lifted it to his mouth and took a long swallow. “Guess you’re wondering what that story had to do with the way I acted last night.”
She leaned against the counter, next to where he stood. “I figured you were getting to that.”
Collin gave her a sidelong look, more hesitant to tell Ellie this than his engagement story—because it was all about her. What he’d had with Megan was over. Whatever he might have with Ellie was just beginning. He’d best start it by being honest.
“After what happened with Megan,” he said, “I wasn’t looking to get involved again anytime soon.”
“I understand that.”
“So when we met up on Stallion Ridge, and everything clicked, I was aiming for a one-night stand.” He looked at her sheepishly. “I mean, you were the perfect stranger.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended,” she teased.
“Then you told me about your gallery. Invited me to meet your brother. Took me on a tour, a picnic, a hike.” He leveled a simmering gaze on her. “Kissed me in the rain.”
Ellie rolled her lips in and rubbed them together.
“You invited me to the pub crawl,” he said. “Even let me shower here.” He shook his head. “There were a few times I could’ve really pushed to get that one time I wanted with you.”
Ellie lowered her chin and gazed up at him with those big blue eyes.
Collin stepped in front of her, smoothed his fingers down her forearm and along the back of her hand. “I just couldn’t do it.” He laced his fingers between hers. “You’re the kind of girl who deserves way more than a one-night stand.” He gripped her hand tightly. “But I wasn’t sure I could give that to you.”
“So you decided to walk away?” Ellie asked.
“I decided I wasn’t ready for whatever this is.” He lifted her chin, and kissed her gently, his heart hammering. “I couldn’t risk…what might happen.”
“What made you change your mind?” she asked, her lips inches from his.
He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her close. “It was a bigger risk if I didn’t take the chance.”
—
Ellie flipped on the light, and led Collin into her studio. It was, by far, Ellie’s favorite room in the house. From the delicate chandelier, to the high, whitewashed wooden table and chairs and the built-in floor-to-ceiling shelves that matched, she loved everything about it. Especially the back wall—all windows with a view of the starry night sky.
Some of her work from over the years was displayed on several shelves, and others held woven storage bins, neatly arranged and labeled. A large aluminum capital letter E hung on the one small section of wall space next to a door that led to the darkroom. Ellie grabbed a lighter from the shelf, reached to the center of the table, and lit the light yellow multi-wick candle that matched the paint color on the walls.
“Lemongrass,” she said absently, her mind still racing from everything Collin had told her. Although he’d ended his engagement, and Ellie’s had pretty much been ended for her, they’d both been betrayed in similar ways. As much as it didn’t appeal to her, she could understand why Collin would be looking for a simple, quick hookup after what had happened between him and Megan. It was also understandable that Ellie had been hesitant to get involved with Collin. But now things were changing.
You’re the kind of girl who deserves way more than a one-night stand.
And he was the same type of guy.
Her heart clamored. Now that she knew he was in, was she ready to take a risk, too?
Collin gazed around the studio. “Nice,” he said. “Different from the gallery.”
Ellie nodded. “The gallery’s more farmhouse chic.”
He seemed to stifle a smile, as if he had no idea what that meant. “I’ll take your word for it.” He stepped over and chec
ked out the artwork on the shelves. “Are all these different photo processes?”
“Yep, most of them considered alternative.” She pointed to a blue-hued picture of the snowy Rockies in mid-winter. “That one’s a cyanotype that I hand tinted.” She gestured to another piece, on the shelf below—a photo of an old barn, the base done in watercolorish black-and-white, with some brown elements, made livelier with Ellie’s colorful paints. “And this is a gum bichromate.”
“Cool,” he said. “Which process are we going to use for mine?”
“Probably the gum bichromate. But it depends on the shot we pick.”
She pulled her phone out of her pocket, clicked it into a speaker dock on the shelf, and turned on some music.
Collin’s eyes went wide and he grinned. “Pink Floyd?”
“Why not? It’s classic. The guitar solos are amazing. I love to listen to it while I’m working.” She scrunched her nose at him. “Not a fan?”
“I’m a total fan.” He shot her a hesitant look. “I play guitar.” He tipped his head toward the speaker dock. “Nothing like that, but sometimes you can recognize the song.”
Ellie’s stomach fluttered. All that, and he played guitar, too. How much better could this get?
“You sing?” she asked.
“Mostly in the shower.”
“Then I should’ve had my ear to the bathroom door when you were in there.”
He pinched the beads at the end of the tie on her blouse, and rolled them between his fingertips. “You should’ve been in there with me.”
“What would you have sang to me?”
“No free previews,” he teased.
“Aw, come on. I’m letting you help pick out the picture I’m going to paint for you.”
“Totally unrelated.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, grabbed her laptop from the shelf, placed it on the high table, and opened it. She settled into one of the two tall chairs, gesturing for him to take the other. Clicking open the file containing the best pictures from Stallion Ridge, she said, “Let’s see what we’ve got,” as if she hadn’t already examined every one of them several times. “I’ve narrowed them down to seven.”
