by Tracy March
“You could take one for lunch, but the guys at the mine might fight you for it,” she teased.
He met her gaze, and smoothed his hand up her thigh. “I was thinking about tonight.”
Excitement swirled through her. “You want to come back?”
Collin nodded slowly, his gaze locked on hers. “My place is a little lacking on amenities. You’ve got everything I need right here.”
And I’m happy to give you whatever you want.
Ellie scrunched her nose. “Not exactly everything.” She gave him a knowing look, hoping she wouldn’t have to come out and remind him that they needed condoms.
Collin grinned, and his eyes sparked with mischief. He pulled her close, and whispered huskily, “Because two weren’t nearly enough.”
Ellie walked him out to his motorcycle and kissed him goodbye. She watched until he drove out of sight, wondering if Milly or Merri had seen him, or heard his bike rumbling down the drive. The idea had Ellie feeling a little self-conscious, but then again, those little old ladies had sneaked the truffles into her picnic. She wrapped her arms around herself, took a deep breath of the fresh morning air, and smiled so hard her teeth clenched.
Eager to get started painting Collin’s picture, she hurried to shower and get ready, and made it to the gallery early. The first thing she did was put the picture on the easel in the front window, take a photo of it, and attach it to a text to Collin.
Bet officially on.
Ellie caught herself hoping that she would sell more of the pictures. Sure, she’d lose the bet, but she’d win either way. A night of wilderness camping with Collin wasn’t sounding so bad right about now. On the other hand, she’d hate to miss out on winning the photo shoot. It was clear he’d be a good model, but she hadn’t guessed just how hot those pictures could be until she’d seen every inch of him last night. Nudes weren’t generally in her repertoire, but…
Baskets of billowing wildflowers hung on each side of the gallery’s front door, and Ellie went outside and watered them. On her way back in, she propped open the door so the mountain air could mingle with the scent of lemongrass from the candle she planned to light.
To remind me of last night all day long.
Hours ticked past as she stood at the easel, meticulously hand tinting Collin’s picture. People came in and browsed, and bought things—pretty good business for a Monday. Two women asked about the picture on the easel, but no sale…yet. After all, she’d just started bringing it to life.
Ellie was thankful for the distractions of her work and the customers. Otherwise, she’d spend every second thinking about Collin and their night together. He’d easily convinced her that she was over Noah—before they had even made it to the bedroom. She realized now, more than ever, that Noah was a “surface” person. Nothing ever went deeper than the outside and appearances—similar to how Collin had portrayed Megan. Noah never would’ve admitted a hurt as personal as Collin’s, or shared something as awful as what Megan had said about him.
Then Collin had admitted that he was afraid to get involved again. No wonder he’d acted like he did at the pub crawl. Not that Ellie was a fan of how he’d handled it, but she had the same fear. They had both been let down. It made sense that they’d be cautious.
By the time Collin had taken her in his arms and danced with her, Noah was nothing but a distant memory, and Ellie began looking forward, not back. The super-hot sex with Collin was exactly what she’d needed to discover everything she had been missing. Noah was a missionary-style guy, with no imagination in the bedroom beyond lighting a candle and playing some music. So many times, Ellie had wanted to experiment, to do something different, but Noah liked it his way. All those years…Instead of thinking about doing something different, she should’ve been thinking about doing someone different.
Collin hadn’t hesitated when she wanted to do things her way.
In the chair.
In the bed.
If only they hadn’t run out of condoms.
A satisfied smile stretched across her face. He’d be at her place within hours—and he was bringing condoms. No telling where they might do it tonight.
Lost in thought, Ellie dipped her brush into the sage-green paint.
“Hi, Ellie,” a woman said.
Ellie looked up from her easel, and her heart leapt into her throat.
Peggy Allred.
Peggy was middle-aged and trim, with short, dark hair. Today she wore black jeans, a white blouse, and a faded denim jacket, accented with lots of tasteful silver jewelry. Her face was all angles and lines, her smile pleasant. Nothing about her should have made Ellie’s chest knot with nerves.
Except that she’s picking another artist to exhibit in the festival.
“Peggy, hi,” Ellie said, struggling to sound casual.
Peggy swept her gaze around the gallery. “I love what you’ve done with this place.”
“Is this the first time you’ve been in?”
“No. I stopped in once before when Kristi was here,” Peggy said. “You should hold on to her. She’s quite an advocate for your work.” She lifted her chin. “It’s easy to find someone to babysit a gallery, but to get someone who believes in what you do—that’s hard to come by.”
“Kristi’s nearly my sister-in-law. Isn’t that what family is supposed to do?” Ellie asked lightly.
Peggy shook her head. “You’d be surprised.”
Not hardly. Noah had almost been her husband and he couldn’t have cared less about her artwork.
The picture on the easel caught Peggy’s attention, and she stepped closer, her eyebrows lowered.
Ellie’s pulse thrummed in her ears.
An awkward silence seemed to stretch out forever while Ellie held her breath.
“I love this,” Peggy said finally, and Ellie exhaled. “All of your work is excellent, but this one is a different mood for you.”
“I don’t normally do pictures with people in them, but I just happened to come across this guy up on Stallion Ridge, so I just kept clicking.” Ellie decided that was enough of the story to share with Peggy, who hadn’t taken her gaze off the picture.
“It’s really evocative—an interesting juxtaposition between the motorcycle and the natural elements, with the man in the middle of them. It has such a masculine feel, but then you have the bright wildflowers, and the softer touches of purple in the mountains.” She shifted her gaze to Ellie. “It’s going to be a stunning piece.”
Ellie blinked a couple of times. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from an artist as accomplished as you.”
Peggy shook her head. There was no diva in her, despite her success. “I just know something special when I see it.”
Ellie pressed her lips into a proud smile. “Are you working on a painting right now?”
“I’ve got one in progress,” Peggy said. “But I haven’t picked up a brush in days. Things have been really hectic getting ready for the arts festival.”
The knot in Ellie’s chest tightened. “I can’t believe it starts a week from Friday.”
“Sometimes things seem so far away, then they’re on you before you can blink.” Peggy took another long look at the picture on the easel. “Turns out we’ve hit a little snag here at the last minute. One of the artists had to cancel, and we’re looking for an alternate to step in.”
Pick me!
Ellie nervously rolled her paintbrush between her thumb and forefinger.
“We’d love to have you as part of the festival,” Peggy said. “Would you be interested?”
Excitement swirled through Ellie. “Of course. I’d be honored.”
“Perfect.” Peggy nodded. “I’ll email you the details as soon as I get home. Feel free to get in touch with any questions.” She leaned closer to Ellie, as if she were about to share a secret. “As a juror, I have to stay impartial. But I think it would be a fine idea for you to display that picture.” She tipped her head toward the easel. “And, if you can squeeze in the wo
rk, have several extras on hand. They’re going to sell. I promise.”
Ellie grinned. What better way to spend the next week and a half than getting ready for the arts festival…and painting pictures of Collin?
“You’re one of only four artists from Thistle Bend selected for the show,” Peggy said. “I’m sure you’ll make us all proud.”
Peggy had barely made it out the door before Ellie texted Holly to share the news.
Peggy asked me to exhibit in the arts festival!
Awesome! Can’t wait to hear all about it. Meet me at Calypso tomorrow at 8?
For sure.
Kristi came in and took over at the gallery for the evening, giving Ellie time to get some pictures taken for the newspaper before the sun went down. Allan Overby, the editor at the Thistle Bend Times, wanted some shots from the ski resort for an article about how they were attracting summer business with mountain biking and zip-lining. He also wanted updated photos of the Big Star site, where they’d put in another tailing pond, leading to speculation that leaking was more of a problem than anyone was letting on. Collin didn’t say much about his work, but she’d be interested to know—off record.
Maybe I’ll ask him tonight.
Ellie tensed with excitement. She could hardly wait to spend another night with him.
Especially since he won’t be here for long.
Collin had told Brian he hoped to be on his way back to Durham by early September, and that was only a couple weeks away. Her stomach sank as she thought about his leaving.
But you knew he was just passing through.
That was one of the reasons she had been hesitant to get involved with him, but she’d allowed herself to do it anyway. All she could do was make the most of being with him while he was here, and try not to think too far ahead.
Day by day.
Night by night.
Just watch out for your heart.
“I’m good,” she said to herself. “I’ve got this.”
And the invitation to exhibit in the arts festival.
She headed to the ski resort on Paintbrush Peak, and took the shots she needed, her thoughts whirling over what to display at the festival, and how to design her booth. There was a lot to plan in a short time—especially considering the extra pictures Peggy advised her to paint—but she’d get it all done. It was too big an opportunity to squander.
Ellie made the drive beyond Narrowleaf Pass and up to the Big Star site, deciding to decorate her booth in the farmhouse chic style of her gallery. That way she could pull things from there for the weekend, and put them back in place after the festival. The booth was small, and she could rearrange the gallery so that no one would know that a few display pieces were missing.
She thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel in a happy rhythm, pleased with her plan. Ready-made, and right on budget—which was as close to zero as she could get. She could also use some items from her studio at home, if need be, and still keep her booth looking professional.
Collin’s motorcycle caught her eye as she pulled into the lot at the Big Star site and parked her SUV. She grabbed her camera, got out, and headed toward the hiking trail that ran along the rise above the site. The hum of heavy equipment practically vibrated the ground beneath her feet as she climbed, the rumble and frequent beeping at odds with the normally peaceful setting.
Ellie was dressed for working at the gallery, not climbing a treacherous trail, but she kept a pair of hiking boots in the SUV for times like this. The best vantage point for pictures was about a quarter mile up a steep, rocky path, so the boots were a must. She climbed quickly, making it to her preferred spot by six-fifteen.
The guys were working as if it was nowhere near quitting time, hard hats on their heads, safety vests reflecting the early evening sun. Sure enough, they had added another tailing pond. Ellie thought she spotted Collin, but it was hard to tell from this distance. No need to zoom this time, though—she’d see him up close for herself tonight.
Ellie took some pictures for the newspaper from the usual spot, and several more from other angles on her way back down the trail—always better to deliver too many choices than too few. As she reached the parking lot, Collin’s motorcycle reminded her that she needed to pick out some more pictures of him to paint.
Maybe one of him on his bike.
Ellie got in her SUV and headed home, eager to send the pictures she’d taken at the ski resort and mine site to Allan and shower before Collin arrived. She turned up the radio and sang along with Adele, amped about the arts festival…
And tonight.
Would she and Collin watch a movie?
Or go straight to bed?
Gravel crunched under the tires as she took the long driveway toward her house. Just as she parked her SUV, her phone pinged with a text, and she glanced down at the screen.
Collin.
Her heart fluttered.
Trouble at the site. Working late. Can’t make it tonight. Rain check?
Chapter 15
Ellie took the last sip of her morning coffee, remembering how bummed she had been last night after getting Collin’s text. But things could be tricky in his line of work, and he couldn’t control what went on at the mine.
Trouble at the site. Working late. Can’t make it tonight. Rain check?
No worries. You+rain. I’m in.
She refused to let it affect her mood this morning. After everything they’d shared, she was sure he’d come back—maybe even tonight.
You’ve got everything I need right here.
Just as Peggy had advised, last night Ellie processed more pictures of Collin—some of the same photo, and a couple different ones. Another of her favorites was of him on his motorcycle, leaning on the handlebars, a sultry glint in his eyes. It was hard to imagine that he’d been playing it up for the camera.
Maybe that glint was for me.
Ellie stowed the pictures in her SUV, got in, and rolled down the windows. She pulled an elastic band from her purse, and put her hair in a messy ponytail to keep it from blowing in her face. Thoughts of Collin and the arts festival danced in her mind as she made the scenic drive into Thistle Bend.
Larkspur Avenue looked extra vibrant this morning with its brightly colored storybook Victorian buildings, hanging baskets of wildflowers flanking their open doors. A week from Friday, the street would be shut down for the weekend, and nearly two hundred white tents would be put up for the arts festival—one of them Ellie’s booth. She’d attended the festival for years, always longing to be one of the featured artists. This year, she would be. She took a deep breath, assuring herself that she’d have everything prepared by Friday.
Ellie lucked into a parallel parking place in front of Calypso Coffee, one of her favorite hangouts in town—cabin-style, with wide plank floors and colorful-cushioned booths. The tables were hewn from knotty slabs of wood that were pieces of art themselves. Cozy and welcoming, the building was one of the town’s originals. It had been updated over the years but still managed to keep its old-time charm.
The sweet-and-doughy scent of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls greeted her as she stepped inside, bells jingling on the door as it closed behind her. Holly waved from their favorite corner booth, where she had Ellie’s latte waiting.
Holly stood and gave Ellie a hug, and they settled in the cushiony booth. “Got everything ready for the arts festival?” she teased.
“Sure, since I’ve had exactly sixteen hours to get it all together.” Ellie blew on the hot latte, and took a sip. “I owe you big for putting in a word for me with Peggy.”
Holly’s lips curved up at the corners. “I didn’t.”
Ellie’s thoughts spun to a stop, and she drew her head back. “You mean Peggy and the other jurors chose me on their own?”
Holly nodded. “She and George have been out of town. I never got a chance to give her the nudge about you.”
Ellie furrowed her brow.
“What?” Holly asked.
“Ju
st wondering if she picked me before she came into the gallery yesterday, or decided after she got there.”
“Like she needed to take another look at your work before she asked?” Holly took a swallow of her espresso.
“When she came in, I was working on something kind of different than my normal stuff, and Peggy really liked it. She even critiqued it using big words like ‘evocative’ and ‘juxtaposition.’ ”
Holly laughed. “What was different about it?”
Ellie pulled her phone out of her pocket, brought up the picture, and turned the screen toward Holly. “See for yourself.”
Holly’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. No wonder Peggy whipped out the vocabulary on you. This is amazing. And that guy.” She blew out her breath with a whistle. “Smokin’.” She took the phone from Ellie and had a closer look. “Wait a minute. This is the guy that was with Gary Holdren at the pub crawl the other night. Works for the EPA.”
“You met him?”
Holly nodded. “Struggled to keep myself from melting, he was so hot. Since I’m already taken, you and Mr. EPA need to get together.” A crease formed between her eyebrows. “Wait. My brain got scrambled from a hormone surge. You took this picture, so you two have already gotten together—in a photographer/subject kind of way.”
Ellie took a long sip of her latte, her coy gaze set on Holly. “In more than a photographer/subject kind of way.”
Holly’s eyes bugged. “And you were going to tell me when?”
“After the arts festival stuff.” Ellie gave her a Cheshire grin. “I met Collin up on Stallion Ridge when I was hiking and snapping some pictures. He came to the gallery the next day.”
“And?”
“We spent most of the weekend together—went to RMBL and caught up with Brian, hiked, went rafting with Matt.”
“He met Brian and Matt? Like meet the family all in one weekend?”
“Almost. But we couldn’t squeeze in a trip to Austin so he could meet Mom and Dad,” Ellie teased. “Brian seemed to like Collin—but he did get a little protective. Matt just went with it. Neither of them are the type to blame the next guy for what the last guy did to their sister.”
