by Jade Allen
The thought sent a ripple of anger through Eliza’s body. The day Terese rattles me is the day I’m a bag of bones. Eliza spun on her heel and headed to the back room to the little stove to make a pot of tea. I’m just on edge because the girls aren’t here and I have some big orders. I just have to keep telling myself I can handle this. Her hands worked resolutely, as automatically as they would work at trimming a hemline or looping thread through a needle. One good thing about being in the same place for a while was that routine was there when you needed it; Eliza’s body often went on auto-pilot in times of stress, and knowing her surroundings helped facilitate that. She was setting a mug on the table next to the back door when she heard the bell above the front door tinkle again.
Eliza hurried to the front. “Hello, welcome to Simmons Creations. How may I help you?”
Two men were standing with their backs to her, both roughly the same height and build. One had a head of softly waving black hair that graced the collar of his rust-colored shirt, and his shoulders were a touch broader than the other man’s, whose hair was soft chestnut brown and cropped close to his head.
Eliza turned as she spoke, and he gazed at her with emerald eyes. She felt a slow warmth spread over her skin as his boyish face broke out into a smile as slow and sweet as molasses, and he stuck out a calloused hand for her to shake. He looked strangely familiar, but Eliza would have remembered such a striking face, so she knew he’d never been in her store before.
“Joseph,” he said as she pulled her hand back from his grip. His eyes dropped to the hem of her dress and zipped up to her eyes again, and his grin broadened a little more. “And you must be the Eliza Simmons.” He paused and cocked his head. “You know, from your reputation, I thought you must be some old hag, for sure.”
The black-haired man spun around and glared at Joseph with a set of icy blue eyes, his square jaw set in anger before he opened his mouth to speak. “Joey!”
Joseph shrugged sheepishly, but he had the good graces to blush. “They said she was conservative, skilled, and fair. Sounds like an old woman to me.”
The black-haired man shot Eliza an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Miss Simmons, my brother doesn’t remember his manners around ladies of import. Forgive him.”
Eliza blinked, feeling like she’d been doused in cold water. Both of the men gazed at her, embarrassed, but she was still getting over Joseph’s words. “Reputation? And what do you mean, ladies of import?”
The black-haired man put one hand over his eyes briefly. “Speaking of manners,” he mumbled. “We’ve come here because you’re highly recommended. I’m Zachary Blake, and this is my brother, Joseph.”
“Joey,” the man in question said, flashing her a bright smile.
Eliza smiled and nodded shyly at the both of them. “Hello, nice to meet you.” Then she paused, her brows knotting in confusion. “Wait, did you say—”
“The Blake Brothers, yes,” Zachary said, looking around the shop nervously. “You don’t have any other customers, do you? The last time we got cornered in a shop, we nearly got trampled to death.”
Joey chuckled. “Well. Not trampled.”
Eliza was looking between the men with her mouth open, their words zipping through her head. “Um, no, no one else here.”
“Good,” Zachary said, sounding relieved. “We can talk in peace.”
Joey started to move slowly around the shop, looking at the spools of thread she had behind the counter and the stacks of cotton and silk she had just out of sight. “You seen our act, Miss Simmons?”
Eliza watched his biceps bulge through the fabric of his brown shirt as he lifted a bag of denim next to the till. “Yes, once.”
Joey turned to her and smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh? Did you like it?”
Eliza felt heat rise to her cheeks as she remembered seeing one of them sprint around without a shirt on, encouraging the women to cheer. Were they really the same men who were standing in her shop right now? “Well—”
“Not important,” Zachary cut in, shooting Joey a dark look. “The point is, you know we use tear-away clothing. Would you be able to make us some fancy-looking suits and shirts, but maybe ones you can button or snap together?”
Eliza was happy to be able to give an answer. “I can do that! Quite easily, in fact.”
Joey walked back to Zachary’s side and peered at her intently. “Really? You mean that? Without knowing our ideas?”
Eliza smiled at him, and she made sure to let him see her confidence. “I think you said that I come highly recommended. That’s for a reason, I assure you.”
Joey looked surprised, but there was something like heat in his eyes, too. “Self-assured,” he said softly. “I like it.”
His gaze was so intense that Eliza couldn’t resist the shiver that rolled down her spine. Zachary rubbed his eyes again and sighed. “Joey, focus. How long do you think two sets of tear-away suits would take you? Three days?”
Eliza paused, mentally calculating the time it would take her to teach Daisy and Anna the new technique. “Four days,” she said finally. “If I push it. When do you need it by?”
Zachary’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Next week, but—”
Eliza was pulling out her sketch pad, though, already lost in her thoughts. “And that’s a set of each of you. Now, what material were you thinking? Cotton is cheap, but I expect you’ll want something dyed to make it look flashier? Would you be needing ties—perhaps bow-ties? And will you be wanting long johns, as well?”
Zachary looked taken aback, and it was so endearing that Eliza had to fight against a tide of girlish giggles. “Uh, yes. That will be fine.”
Joey laughed at his brother’s shocked expression. “Come on, Zach! Let’s throw some ideas at her. See how good she really is.”
Zachary and Joseph’s ideas weren’t complicated, thankfully. It took her twenty minutes to sketch them, and they were both so impressed that Eliza was thankful the girls weren’t there to see her blush. The men stood on either side of her, their arms touching each of hers so firmly that she couldn’t move away if she tried.
“Wonderful idea,” Joey said at last. “I think this will work.”
Eliza nodded absentmindedly, trying not to concentrate on the sturdiness of his shoulders and back, and what it might look like completely unclothed. She kept having to curb her thoughts about Zachary, too; they both had been shooting her lingering glances from the moment they’d set foot in her store.
“When can we pick them up?” Zachary asked, his lips inches away from her ear.
Eliza suppressed the shiver that longed to snake across her skin as his low voice hit her eardrum. “Five days from now,” she said softly, hoping her voice sounded stronger than it felt.
Finally, they both moved away, and Eliza felt like she could breathe again. They stood side by side at the head of the counter, gazing at Eliza with a mixture of respect and curiosity. It felt oddly intense and intimate—like she was being disrobed and memorized by their eyes without even having to lift her skirt. It made her happy, and her thighs trembled as Joey handed over money and their hands touched.
They seemed reluctant to leave after Eliza wrapped up their designs.
“I’ll see you gentleman soon,” she said brightly, though the words felt clunky and wrong in her mouth. She wanted to be saying why don’t you stay for tea? or are either of you hungry? Eliza couldn’t bring herself to be so bold, however—and besides, what could she possibly do when she got them alone?
Zachary looked as though he wanted to ask her something, but he decided against it, his wavy head of hair swaying as he moved toward the door.
Joey stood in his place a moment longer, and Eliza thought he was going to ask to stay. Heat consumed his green eyes, and she saw the words float just behind his lips and stop, unable to carry on any further. The moment had passed.
“I’ll be seeing you soon, Miss Simmons,” he said before he turned away, and the words sent a bolt of
need shooting through her muscles, as though he’d spoken some kind of carnal incantation instead of a mere farewell.
****
The whole event happened so fast that she was still going over the exchanges during the rest of the day. She kept giving back the wrong change, dropping pins, and giving the wrong garment back to the wrong customers. Daisy and Anna didn’t arrive before she locked the door and blew out the gas lamps, and she was secretly glad; she needed at least one thing to be predictable today.
Eliza undressed slowly and slipped into her nightgown, but she felt too restless to get into bed. There was no real reason to think she might see them again before they came to get their order, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Blake Brothers weren’t through with her. The way they both made her feel was intoxicating, and it was scary—but she wanted to ride that feeling to its peak more than anything else in the world.
Eliza remembered seeing their rather risqué show, and her mind’s eye recreated the scene with her new knowledge of their bodies in vivid detail; eventually, she began to imagine them sitting by her bedside, and finally in bed with her—Joey stroking her blonde curls while Eliza kissed down his body, and Zach massaging the plumpness of her backside while he pushed inside her from behind. Her fingers drifted between her legs, moving feverishly against the firm, wet button of flesh between her nether lips until her body seized with pleasure and her energy was spent.
****
Eliza woke the next morning intending to put her desires behind her, but Daisy and Anna wouldn’t stop talking about the Blakes.
“Joey is so fast!” Daisy gushed, her pale blue eyes glazed over with admiration. “Like a deer, or a…stallion.”
Anna clapped her hands and laughed. “Yes. But Zachary’s more of a bucking bronco,” she said, winking. “At least, I’d like to think so.”
Eliza’s cheeks burned, but she kept her eyes on her needlework, willing her thoughts to stay clean.
Daisy wouldn’t allow it. “I bet you’re not wrong,” she said conspiratorially. “I’ve heard he’s not exactly waiting for marriage.”
Anna scoffed, her strawberry blonde braids swaying as she shook her head. “What do you know?”
“A lot more than you!” Daisy said, her cheeks pinking up. “Ladies tell me when I go to my mother’s work. It’s not like I’m clueless. You’ve never even had a boyfriend!”
“So?” Anna shot back. “You shouldn’t go spreading rumors around, especially about a client.”
Daisy’s eyes narrowed. “They’re not rumors if they’re true. Show cowboys have lots of girlfriends. Everyone knows that.”
Anna looked like she wanted to retort, but her mouth shut when Eliza rose from the long table they were all sharing. Her eyes looked frightened, and Eliza knew her anxiety was showing on her face, but she couldn’t help it; she felt so ashamed she was physically ill.
“Eliza?” Daisy said uncertainly, hurrying to her side. “Are you all right?”
Eliza forced a smile to her face, hoping it looked more natural than it felt. “I just feel a little dizzy,” she lied. “I need to go upstairs for a moment.”
Anna was wringing her hands and dancing from foot to foot. “Are you sure? It was our bickering, wasn’t it? My dad always said me and my brother’s arguing gave him headaches.”
“No, dear,” Eliza said. “You’re fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”
When she was alone in her room, she started to cry, and it didn’t make sense to her at all; neither of them made any sort of desire known to her, and Daisy was right—show business people tended to be more promiscuous than most, especially gorgeous cowboys who flaunted their physiques for thousands of people each week. So what if they’d stared? Lots of men stared, and some women, too—that didn’t mean they wanted to have sex with her, and if they did, it didn’t really matter to her who they’d been with before. It was so unlikely they would actually ever be together that the whole idea should seem like details in a made-up story, she decided... Don’t be silly over this, Eliza. It’s just a crush.
After ten minutes, Eliza smoothed her hands down her plum colored skirt and started downstairs again. Anna and Daisy were still talking about the brothers—but, thankfully, they were onto a different subject.
“That’s what I heard, too,” Daisy said earnestly as she finished the loops on a silk shirt. “Mavis saw them arguing after every single show.”
“That’s just how brothers are, isn’t it?” Anna asked, nonplussed.
Daisy frowned. “Well, yes and no. It was arguing, but she said it was always constant and sometimes really vile—really nasty insults, shoving, that kind of stuff. And about the strangest things.”
“Like what?”
“Like…candles. And the best size to make good flapjacks. And bolo ties, and butter,” Daisy laughed. “Just stupid things. The point is, they don’t seem to get along. They don’t ever come to the same conclusion…it’s a miracle they don’t tear each other apart.” She smiled at Eliza as she rejoined them at the table. “No wonder you’re so worn out. I bet they had you in here for hours and hours, huh?”
Eliza froze. They were in the shop for less than an hour, and they were both in perfect agreement while she showed them potential designs. Did she catch them in a good mood?
“Just about,” she said finally, the cogs of her mind spinning at lightning speed. “Did you say they fought yesterday?”
Daisy looked surprised. “Oh yes. Nearly started slugging each other, and the only reason they didn’t is because they saw us and thought we were kids.”
“They didn’t believe we were 19,” Anna giggled. “Thought we were playing hooky, and so they didn’t yell at us for trying to sneak into their dressing room.”
Eliza laughed, and her joy was real. They were at each other’s throats at all other times—except for when they were in her shop. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
“So what else did you do yesterday?” she asked the girls, her heart feeling far lighter than before. She listened happily as Anna described getting ice cream and feeding ducks at a little pond behind the elementary school. Daisy raised to answer the doorbell once, but it turned out to be a simple repair—Eliza nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the tinkle, hoping it was one of the brothers to request something new.
“How was your day, Miss?” Daisy asked when she got back. “Any funny stories? Did that awful Terese come to get her mourning dress?”
Anna gasped, but Eliza laughed at her. “Yes, she came to get the last alterations checked. She seems quite cheerful, though.”
“I’ll bet,” Daisy said darkly. “She was cheery at the rodeo, too. Tried to fling herself all over Zach—then Joey—when they were shaking hands on the way out. She wasn’t the only one trying, though, so she never got close. She’d die if she knew they came here afterward.”
Eliza smiled, her heart warming at the memory of Zachary and Joey leaning against her as she explained the thoughts behind her designs, their eyes meeting hers and refusing and to pull away. “I bet she would.”
The bell above the shop door tinkled again, and Eliza’s heart leapt into her throat again. She only heard one set of footsteps, though, so she tried to reign in her pulse while Anna leaned in and whispered to her conspiratorially.
“What were they really like?”
Eliza laughed, startled. “I don’t know,” she began. “They were charming, I suppose.”
Anna smirked. “I bet they were charming. Men are always charming around you.”
“Until they’re not,” Eliza said. “But these two really were genuinely nice. It’s strange…” she hesitated, wondering if Anna would laugh at her.
“What?” the girl pressed, her eyes widening. She leaned in further, apparently not wanting to miss a word.
Eliza took a breath. “You say they don’t get along well, but they got along perfectly around me. Especially when I was showing them designs. They agreed with each other the whole
time, even supporting each other’s ideas.”
Anna was quiet for a while, then she smiled. “That’s not so strange,” she said finally. “You’re a peace bringer. You’ve got a lot charm of your own, Eliza.”
Eliza laughed. “Sure.”
Anna frowned. “I’m serious! Give yourself more credit. You’re humble, talented, and lovely; why wouldn’t they want to behave themselves for long enough to make you give them the time of day?”
Eliza didn’t get a chance to respond. Before she could open her mouth, a huge vase of roses floated through the doorway, followed by Daisy’s fast-moving legs.
“Special delivery for Eliza!”
Eliza rose from her seat, her heart pounding thickly in her chest. There was a rolled-up piece of parchment tied with a piece of dark green ribbon, and she recognized it the moment she pulled it from the scroll: it was part of a sample of fabric she’d sent home with the Blake Brothers, in case they wanted bow ties.
“Who is it from?” Anna asked Daisy.
Daisy shrugged. “The flower shop. It was just sent along with that message, but it looks like it was expensive.”
Eliza’s eyes scanned the paper, and she had to read it twice before the words finally sank into her brain.
Eliza,
You greatly impressed us in the short amount of time we spent in your shop today. I think that’s obvious by now—unless this message didn’t come with 24 roses. If that’s the case, please imagine two dozen fragrant roses of the most staggering beauty and then read the following:
