Distant Obsession
Page 8
Luck? He had strange ideas about luck if he thought a near wreck and a flat tire fortuitous.
The engaging smile he sent calmed her frayed nerves. “I’m headed for the same place. I’ve got a hitch on the back of my truck so I can pull your trailer. I can also remove the flat and drop it at Andrew’s garage on the way. Your car should be safe enough here until we come back this evening with the repaired tire.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t think I’d leave a damsel in distress, do you?”
“But I’ve been nothing but rude to you. It would serve me right.” Now was the moment of truth. The opportunity to spill her guts grew stronger each moment in his company. He seemed like a forgiving sort. Surely he would understand.
He gave her a lazy grin. “I’m sure we can figure out some way for you to pay me back.”
Picking up on his flirtatious suggestion, she answered in kind. “I’m sure you already have some ideas, don’t you?”
“Just a few.” He winked then nodded toward the jeep. “Come on. Pull your jeep forward slowly so you don’t damage the rim. I’ll move my truck in front of the trailer and get you all hooked up before dealing with the tire. You might be a little late for your shindig, but these things happen.”
She glanced down the road where the other car had pulled in front, thankful Reece had come along when he had. The man was probably just like Reece, a good Samaritan willing to help. He must have seen Reece approach first and gracefully retreated. Yes, that’s what had happened. To think otherwise left her feeling vulnerable and broken inside.
Thirteen
Reece swore silently and brought the wounded finger to his mouth. He’d gotten it caught when he’d set the hitch because his mind had been elsewhere, like on a curvy brunette with a pert nose, light smattering of freckles, and the most gorgeous green eyes he’d ever seen. He finished locking down the hitch and climbed into the cab, grateful fate had been so kind.
She was already belted in and staring out the window into space.
He pulled onto the road, wracking his brain for an ice-breaker. The woman who’d consumed much of his thoughts lately was finally in the seat next to his, and he found himself at a loss for words. On the other hand, she wasn’t offering any stimulating verbiage either.
The first five minutes of silence Reece could deal with, but he’d reached his threshold.
Can’t connect if we don’t share. Guess I’ll have to pull it out gently.
“Do you like it here in the Tri cities?”
“Yes, I do.”
Come on, keep going, you need to work with me, Lilah.
“I’ll bet the vistas and wonder of our country life is replete with opportunities for an artist.”
She aligned her body away from the rigid iron clad stare out the window, slightly redirecting toward the driver. “Yes. There are so many beautiful scenes, the mountains, the sunrises, the farmland with the antique barns and homes, even the animals have offered themselves for my canvas.”
Good, keep it up.
“Are you selling in any of the galleries, or just at the shows?”
This time she turned ninety degrees and faced him directly. “Both. I found a place in Johnson City that took my work on consignment. Rose, the owner suggested showing at the various festivals, but I was hesitant. I talked to Mrs. Taylor, the older lady at the post office. She does wreaths and dried flowers on the side to help pay for her son’s college. Well, her excitement got me to thinking and…”
Reece grinned. The passenger he wanted as a friend, and more, had come alive. She was filling the air between them, sharing her interest, her happy thoughts, and the exchange with a woman that reflected true feminine charm flushed across his senses.
“… by the third show, I learned the ropes of the festival circuit, and my sells had increased to a point I was actually making a profit. Another store contacted me last week with interest, and…well. Let’s just say, I can’t keep up with demand.”
“And that’s a good thing, right?”
She giggled. “Of course. That’s what I’ve wanted for a very long time. I thought a year ago I’d finally found success, then everything…” She turned her head and stared out the window at the passing scenery.
No, please, Lilah. Don’t run back into your hole, stay out here with me and play.
He intentionally shifted the direction of the chitchat. “Strange the way that trailer came loose. Do you remember securing the lock?”
She popped back out of the burrow. “Yes, I’m sure of it. Even Ashley’s friend, Scott, checked it for me.”
“Is Ashley a friend?”
“No, she’s my sister.”
“Oh, I see. It’s her cabin; you’re staying with her.”
“No, actually it was my mother’s. She passed away two years ago, and we inherited it together.”
“Old Ms. Johnson was your mother? My Lord, I knew her. What a sweet lady. I used to stop by her dock when I was headed out of the creek. She’d wave me over from time to time and invite me up for coffee, cookies, and peach pie. Oh my God, did she make the best pies.”
“Really.” Again she presented a full frontal view, only this time she drew her left leg up onto the seat until it almost touched his.
“Sorry I didn’t make the connection before. Of course. Lilah the artist, and Ashley, the wild girl. Ms. Johnson would talk about you two all the time.”
“She did?”
“Yes, that was the central focus of our discussions. Sometimes I sensed she was trying to, you know…”
”What?”
“I’ve had a lot of mothers push blind dates with their daughter, so many I’m gun sly. Kind of wish I would have listened in your case.”
“Really?”
He crossed his chest with a finger in the shape of a cross. “Scouts honor. She always beamed when discussing her special gifted one, the artist that could paint through the eyes of God.”
Lilah’s visage turned reflective. “I never knew she felt so strongly about my artwork. Both parents wanted me to study something other than art when I was at college. Guess they figured there was no money to be made with that profession.”
“But you proved them wrong.” He smiled. “At first, I figured it was just a parent’s pride, but now that I’ve sampled you’re work, she wasn’t exaggerating one bit. In all our talks, though she never used the words, it was clear to me she took special pride from her daughter, the artist. On the other hand, it was you sister who caused her sleepless nights.”
She stretched her arm across the top of the seat. “Yes, I worry about her too; Mom and I often discussed Ash’s poor judgment.”
“Ms. Johnson said your sister had a tendency to hook up fast and furious, the wilder the better.”
Lilah released a laugh that reflected warmth and a joy that the shadows of her current situation had been blown away by his words. “My sister can definitely be a handful at times, but she did it mostly to irritate my mother. Most of her antics were quite harmless.”
She patted the top of the seat twice in rhythm with the song playing on the radio. “Thank you so much, Reece.”
“For what?”
“For exposing me to emotions and thoughts from my mother that I never realized before. Really makes me feel good inside. You know what I mean?”
“I see her in your eyes, your cute cheeks. She was a beautiful woman with tons of heart, like her first born.”
“That’s so kind.”
“No biggy, I was lucky to know Mrs. Johnson. In a weird way, she substituted emotions I never had.”
“What do you mean?”
“My relationship with my parents was, well clearly not as good as yours.”
“In what way?”
“Sorry, Lilah, like you I’m not ready to share secrets. You can understand, right?”
She nodded with an empathic countenance. “Yes I can Reece, yes I can.”
He released a mild chortle. “Now
I understand, completely.”
“What?”
“The joint spying incident was with your sister, not you. I owe you an apology. I just assumed. You’re so close in appearance, and I really only saw her lower…well, anyway sorry about the confusion.”
She risked a gesture; a soft touch of his shoulder. Only her fingertips, a mild, insignificant signal to the common observer, but quite relevant to a man and a woman uncertain of the new territory they were venturing into. “No, it’s me that should apologize, again.”
“You? What the hell for?”
“I was terribly rude, not friendly at all. First at the donut shop when I almost slammed the door in your face and later spilled coffee on your shoes. Then again, when you came over and introduced yourself.”
“I will admit, both times I thought I’d lost the magic.”
“The what?”
He patted his chest. “My boyish charm. I’ve been told it’s irresistible. You made me start doubting my charisma. Figured age was taking its toll.”
She extended the touch to a full hand and chuckled. “Trust me, you’ve still got it.”
“Then why the cold shoulder and disinterest each time our paths crossed?”
“At the bakery I was in a hurry to get to the show, and I recognized your face.”
“That bad, uh?”
“Quite the contrary, and you know it, too. I wasn’t painting you because…Well, whatever you had before, you’ve still got.”
“Then why the closed door routine, I mean, if I’ve still got it.”
“I hate to admit it, but I was embarrassed, and a bit disappointed.”
“Of what?”
“At first, I thought, it was me.”
“Me what?”
“I figured you were there to see me. Then I realized it was my sister you had been ogling in the bathroom.”
“Oh, I see…Tell you what, next time you go into the shower, call me first, and I’ll gladly be your personal ogler.”
She grinned, “I bet you would. Really wasn’t your fault.”
“Oh My God, a woman that understands the primal needs and nature of a man.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you know, in retribution for Adam’s mistake, God inflected us guys with an inability to turn from the lure of female curves and bumps in all the right places. It’s nice to finally meet a woman that doesn’t hold that weakness against us.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. We were set up.”
“We were. By whom?”
“My meddlesome sister.”
“How?”
“When she left for Knoxville, she told me I could thank her later. When I asked for what, she smiled and hinted of the present she expected to arrive soon. I figured it out later. She enticed you into her web, for me.”
“Damn, what a tricky little vixen.”
“Like my mother said, she exists on the wild side, and one day, it’s going to catch up with her.”
“I’ll have to thank your sister, otherwise, I’d never had the courage to meet my long distance admirer.”
She pulled her hand back slightly but retained contact. “Courage is something you clearly have never lacked.”
“Is that a good thing or bad?”
“I’m still sitting here, aren’t I?”
“Yes you are, but like they say, pay backs are hell.”
“Pay back for what?”
“Why, for coming to your rescue. All white knights deserve a little TLC for risking life and limb,” he kissed his injured digit, “or in this case, my forefinger.” Reece extended his hand to her side of the truck. “I think at least a kiss from the fair madam is in order.”
She tittered. “You do, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
She slowly leaned forward, cuddled his cut appendage with her soft fingers, stoked it ever so gently, and kissed the wounded warrior twice. “Does the little fellow feel better now?”
“Oh yes, much better. Too bad it wasn’t my lips that were injured.”
An unladylike snort escaped from her throat. “Your mouth is doing just fine.”
“You sure? The lower lip feels bruised sticking it out so far only to be whacked by a door the other morning.” He teasingly leaned to the right and she playfully pushed his head to its original position. “Maybe next time. For now, keep your eyes on the road, or someone will have to come to both our rescue.”
Fourteen
The fairground teamed with vendors setting up their wares and preparing for the promised crowds to descend. The position of her allotted space allowed Reece to back the trailer close enough they wouldn’t spend too much time hauling the merchandise to the tent. With only a ten-by-ten square under her awning, displaying the various paintings would take some creative engineering, but she was up for the task.
For this affair, she’d brought her own canvas gig, which Reece pulled from the backseat without prompting. She smiled, liking the way he dove into help without having to consult her every step of the way.
“Go cattycorner from me and snap the leg a notch higher. We’ll work each leg a little at a time until all four are the right height,” he instructed.
The maneuver proved awkward with only the two of them, but they managed amidst a few giggles thrown in for good measure. Once done, she stared at the bright green covering and grinned. “Now for the hard part.”
“Slave driver.”
She laughed. “You volunteered so now you’re committed.”
“Committed. Now there’s a lethal word.” The look he sent her held a speculative gleam that had her catching her breath. It was far too soon for her to think of starting a lasting relationship with another man and yet…
She cleared her throat and nodded to the trailer. “We set up the display units first then hang work.”
“Do we get to play at all?”
The hopeful note in his voice had her smiling. “Only if you’re a good boy and do all your chores first.”
“Good is overrated. Sure you don’t want me to be a little bad?”
She laughed and shook her head, not knowing how to respond to his flirtations. Dang, she was out of practice. “Work first. Play later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He yanked the first metal, three-pod unit from storage and handed it to her. “I’ll pull them out and help you set up once we have them in the exhibition area.”
“They aren’t heavy, just bulky,” she said, wrestling with the contraption.
“Stop. I’ll carry it. Just give me a minute to extract the other three.”
She didn’t want to be beholding to him, but it felt good to have a man’s help and attention. A fresh wave of heat settled over her as she watched his muscles expand and contract. The man had nothing to worry about where looks were concerned. Raw magnetism drew Lilah against her will. To spend the day in his company would be a luxury she looked forward to.
True to his word, he assisted in setting up the booth, even offering solutions that made the limited room more manageable. They barely finished getting it all organized when the first batch of customers came in to browse.
“Oh my, I love the colors and movement in this one,” an older woman with graying brown hair said. “Larry, come look.”
A man, presumably her husband edged closer and peered over her shoulder. “Looks like a man in a boat to me.”
“Yes, but the colors are just perfect for our dining area.” She glanced at Reece. “Oh my, are you the model?”
“I am and the boat is an antique, one of only eighty-one in existence.”
“Larry, did you hear?”
“I heard, Beth.” Resignation made his features slightly pinched as if he knew he was about to part with substantial cash.
“I want this painting. How much?” she asked even though the price was clearly printed on the label. The first transaction went smoothly, and Lilah had Reece to thank for propelling the sale forward.
Having him around made all the ladies th
ink he was a celebrity. Wouldn’t they all be surprised to discover Lilah to be the notable star instead? Humans typically grew excited when faced with a news icon, hence the reason she’d used the alias Carmen.
Reece engaged another older woman, making her come alive under his attentions. She cooed and flushed, apparently delighted with the touch of a younger man’s hand on her shoulder. The fact he willingly conversed with the elderly and took time to really listen made Lilah see him as something more than just a good-looking man. With each passing moment, he became more real, more attainable, not just a sexy image on canvas. Her obsession was becoming less distant and that troubled her.
He thought her only a small town girl with artistic talent. How would he react when he discovered her to be the notorious Lilah Randall, assumed murderer of her husband? She mentally shook free of the dismal thought. Truly, she was reading way too much into their very new friendship. For now, she should just enjoy their time together.
In fact, she should think of this as part of business. After all, getting to know the subject’s personality would make her portrayals of him that much stronger and add life and vitality to her compositions.
Rose swept through the tent after their second sale, her large floppy hat askew on her silver-gray curls. “Sorry I’m later than usual. I didn’t expect traffic to be so bad.”
“You’re fine. In fact, I’ve had excellent help this morn.” She pointed to Reece. “Rose, this is Reece Edwards. Reece, meet my manager and friend, Rose Whitaker.”
“Nice to formally meet you,” Reece said. “We’ve met before when I first saw Lilah’s paintings.”
“Why yes. You’re the sailor!”
“I am.” The smile he bestowed upon the older women was designed to melt hearts.
Rose placed an arthritic hand on her chest and beamed. “So you finally found our gal. Isn’t she something?”
Lilah rolled her eyes at Rose’s gushing remark.
Reece laughed, clearly amused at Rose’s matchmaking attempts. “I find her quite special, and I even like the paintings.”
Lilah groaned. “Can we prevail upon you to take care of the booth while Reece and I take a gander about the festival?”