Cole

  Then without warning, he grabbed the end of the undershirt and tugged it down so that my cleavage and the sides of my breasts were bared. Startled, I pulled back and his fingers lost their grasp. The shirt bounced back up.

  He raised a dark eyebrow at me. “It’s still less skin than that bikini.”

  “Fine,” I said, “but I may never forgive Finley for getting me that suit.”

  He reached forward again and tugged on the shirt. The cool air of the room brushed my exposed skin as he took my hand. “Now hold it there and lean forward some.”

  He leaned back again.

  “Aren’t you supposed to squint past your thumb or something?”

  He smiled but didn’t take his eyes off me. “I never have figured out why artists do that.”

  His fingers took hold of my chin, and I sucked in a small breath. The near kiss or imagined near kiss in the hall had left me feeling unbalanced and vulnerable, and now I seemed to have little control over ridiculousness.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Uh huh.” I swallowed back a sudden case of nerves, and even after the last silly overreaction to his touch, I was completely unready for his next move.

  His rough thumb reached up and dragged down lightly over my bottom lip. “Make sure to keep that pouty look you’re so good at.” His gaze never left my mouth as he spoke.

  “I’m not pouty—”

  He put up his hand. “Don’t move, don’t talk. This is perfect.” He strolled back to the sound system and glanced back at me. “I hope you don’t mind, I do my best work listening to Pearl Jam.” He turned up the music and then sat on his stool. For a few minutes, he fished around in his pencils and eventually chose one.

  Then he lifted his green gaze for the first time since he’d sat at his canvas. His mouth opened slightly almost as if he was shocked to find me sitting there. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed hard once and then began sketching strokes across the canvas. He glanced my way and then returned his attention to the drawing. Several times he shook his head as if frustrated with the lines he’d drawn.

  Fifteen minutes in, I discovered that sitting in the same position for an extended time was more taxing than I would have thought. A cool breeze danced through an open window and across the room, moving a long strand of hair across my face. “What do I do?” I asked.

  “Don’t move yet. I’m just finishing with your arms.”

  “But it tickles.” I moved my nose up and down but the hair stayed put.

  He placed down his pencil and walked across the floor toward me. The crackling energy I’d felt between us the night before when he’d stood over my bed returned now and grew with hot intensity as the space between us disappeared. I was not the only one noticing the sudden charge in the atmosphere between us. He stopped directly in front of me, and even with loud music bouncing off the walls, I could hear the unnaturally fast rhythm of his breathing.

  He hesitated a moment and then his hand came up slowly and brushed the hair off my face. His fingertips had only grazed my cheek, but I felt the sensation of his touch through my entire body. He looked back at me as if he’d smoothed his hands over every inch of my skin. The air between us heated and what had started out as a casual session between an artist and his subject had somehow erupted into something completely different.

  Without a word, and leaving a stream of heated tension in his wake, Jude returned to his stool and sat. He picked up his pencil again and seemed reluctant to move his gaze from his canvas to his model. After a long pause, he looked at me with such raw, urgent emotion, I lost my balance and my foot fell from the stool.

  “Sorry.” I quickly tried to reposition myself on the stool.

  “That’s all right. Take a break.” He walked over to the wet bar, lit a cigarette, and reached below the bar to pull out a bottle of liquor. He poured himself a shot and threw it back. Then he relaxed against the counter and smoked his cigarette in sullen silence.

  I got up and walked around to stretch. Jude was a hard person to read, and I had absolutely no idea what going through his mind. But I knew what was going through mine. Finley had warned me and I had waved it off as impossible. What a naive, self-confident fool I was.

  Jude tossed his cigarette in the sink and returned to his canvas. I returned to my stool and attempted to recreate the same position and expression.

  “Lean forward more.” His tone was colder than before. “That’s it. Now pull the hem of the shirt down lower.”

  I exposed more skin.

  He said nothing at first. “Lift your chin a little.”

  I followed his directions.

  He turned back to his canvas and then turned his face to me.

  “Fuck it,” he growled and threw the pencil across the room. “Never mind. This isn’t going to work.” The stool scraped the floor as he stood abruptly, pulled out another cigarette, and slammed out the door of the pool house.

  I sat there momentarily stunned and determined to fight back the tears of hurt that burned my eyes. The stool nearly fell over as I jumped off and raced to the bathroom to change. My hands shook as I changed quickly and took steadying breaths to keep from crying. I threw open the door and slammed directly into Jude.

  “I’m sorry, Eden.”

  “Whatever. I told you I’d be a boring model.” I tried to slip past him but his arm blocked me.

  “That’s not the reason and you know it.”

  “I don’t know anything except that this was a mistake.” His arm was like steel as I pushed against it.

  He took hold of my waist and pressed me against the wall. “I was fooling myself. I thought I could handle it, but you looked so goddamned beautiful—”

  The stress of the morning had taken its toll. Tears broke through. “Please, Jude, just let me go.”

  Slowly, he backed away and held his hands up in surrender. I ran for the door. I swiped clumsily at my tears and then fanned my face to dry them. I definitely didn’t want Finley to know I’d been crying, so I went straight to my room and shut the door behind me. She would still be busy with the tattoo artist. I had a reprieve from human contact for a few minutes, and I took advantage of it.

  I washed my face and plunked down on my bed feeling suddenly homesick. I wondered what my family was up to and if they’d arrived safely up north. Our family van was not really the long distance type of vehicle. I wondered if we’d be moving up north if dad got the job. And I wondered how long I’d last in this totally unconventional and somewhat turmoil filled summer job. Jude had definitely added a layer to the position that I was not prepared for.

  Chapter 13

  I tried to concentrate on reading a book but found myself reading the same sentences over and over again. So I tossed the book onto the end of the bed and eventually drifted off into a nice, dreamless sleep, only to be woken by Finley’s knock at the door. “Eden? Are you ready for your tattoo?”

  Groggily, I got up from the bed and plodded to the door. “I guess I fell asleep.”

  Finley looked up at me and seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. Even though I was probably giving up my only chance of ever getting a tattoo, it was just not something I wanted that badly.

  “It’s all right, Eden. You don’t have to get a tattoo. Like you said, it’s a permanent commitment. I’ll let Becky know.” She turned around and pushed the spaghetti strap off her shoulder. “How does it look?”

  “Puckered, pink, and painful but I can see Some Pig. It looks just like the drawing. It’s going to be really cute when the swelling subsides.”

  She pushed the strap back up. “I can’t wait until it’s healed. Cole came by while Becky was working. He mentioned that he was having some friends,” she forced back a smile, “including Max, over for a bonfire tonight. He won’t be inviting that
jerk from last night.” Without warning her eyes watered.

  I grabbed her hand. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, except I’m a terrible friend.” She squeezed my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were the girl he attacked?”

  “It wasn’t really an attack, Finley. Nothing happened. Jude stepped in quickly.”

  She swallowed back what appeared to be a sob and a faint smile appeared. “I heard Jude was so mad, it looked like he was about to kill the guy.”

  I nodded. “The boy does have a temper.”

  “Only when necessary,” she said. “I’m just glad he was there because I was too self-centered to even realize you were in trouble. I hope you can forgive me.”

  “None of it was your fault, Finley. Don’t take blame for something that you didn’t cause.”

  “I know, but I feel guilty about it.”

  “Stop doing that. Stop feeling guilty about stuff you have no control over. So, should we attempt an excursion this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” Finley said confidently, but I knew that could change in any moment. “Let me tell Becky we’re done for the day and then we can make our plans. Afterward you can help me decide what I should wear tonight. I figure we should get an early start on it so I can actually make it to the bonfire.”

  It turned out that Finley’s invisible perimeter circled around the entire property. She had not gone past the end of the circular driveway and giant fountain at the front of the house. We decided our next goal was the jacarandas that lined the long road up to the house. It was June and they were in their full lavender glory, and the ground was covered with a layer of purple snowflakes.

  Surprisingly, Finley had not changed her mind about the outing, and even more surprisingly, she did not hesitate when we reached the end of her safe zone. She kept pace with my feet and after a few steps we found ourselves beneath the purple shade of the trees.

  Finley lifted her face to the sporadic rays of sunshine that managed to squeeze between the bloom covered branches. “I’ve always loved these trees.” She lowered her gaze back to the ground and kicked around the fallen blossoms with her feet. “My mom picked jacarandas for the driveway. These trees always remind me of her.”

  “I’d say she left a rather unforgettable piece of herself here by picking jacarandas. They are breathtaking.”

  Footsteps crunched dry foliage behind us, and like a silly ninny, my heartbeat sped up. I spun around certain Jude would be standing there, but it turned out that Butch and Sundance had followed us out of the house. Several blossoms drifted down from the branches above and clung to bigger dog’s fur.

  Finley laughed. “Sundance, you look good in purple. I think I’ll knit you a lavender sweater this winter. I haven’t picked up my knitting needles in a long time. I should start that up again. It’s a great way to occupy your mind and hands.”

  “I’d love to learn it. My mom doesn’t know how to knit or sew or cook for that matter. Although she does make a mean pancake.”

  “I taught myself to knit through You Tube,” Finley confessed.

  “You can learn a lot of crazy stuff on there. I even learned how to trim Some Pig’s hooves from some farmer in Kentucky.” She scooped up a handful of fallen blossoms and tossed them in the air like confetti. “You haven’t talked about your modeling session with Jude,” she said almost hesitantly as if she sensed that it hadn’t gone well.

  A purple flower floated down. I attempted to catch it on my palm, but it was just as elusive as a snowflake. “Let’s just say that Jude will be searching for a different muse to inspire him.” It took some effort but I kept my tone completely non-committal. But deep down, I was still feeling the pain of Jude’s cold dismissal.

  “You’re better off. Sitting there in the same position for hours is pure drudgery. I hope he was at least polite about it.” She searched my face for a reaction, but I kept my expression plain and clear like my voice.

  “As polite as one can expect from Jude.”

  “Oh well, forget about it. Tonight should be fun. Cole is picking up some marshmallows and chocolate for s’mores.” She spun around with her arms straight out. “I’m standing under the jacarandas again. It feels amazing.”

  ***

  Finley’s fourth clothing change was her final one. Her tattoo was still sore, which limited her choices and her patience for trying on clothes.

  “There’s hope for you yet,” I said.

  She twisted her mouth as she looked at the button down blouse I’d thrown on. “Yes, but what about you?”

  “I don’t want to be stuck wearing a sweatshirt, and it’s the only long sleeve shirt I have.” I held out the arms. “Too dowdy?”

  “A touch. Although it would take an awful lot to make you look dowdy.” She stepped in front of me and assessed the situation. “I know who to make this work.” She unbuttoned the sleeves and rolled them halfway up my forearms and then unbuttoned the bottom two buttons and tied the shirt ends together exposing several inches of skin. She leaned back to admire her handiwork. “Not spectacular, but definitely better.”

  We headed downstairs. The smell of smoke from the fire pit had already carried up to the house and it smelled like a summer barbecue in the kitchen. I had not seen Jude for the rest of the day and was both relieved and bummed about it. I had no idea what to say to him or if I even wanted to talk to him. Or if he even wanted to talk to me, for that matter.

  The ornately tiled fire pit was in a sitting area just past the pool area. The pool house looked dark and empty as we passed it. Voices and laughter rolled across the yard as we approached the thin plume of smoke that crawled up into the dusk colored sky.

  Cole had placed a circle of beach chairs around the pit. Aside from Cole and Max, there were two other guys who I may or may not have glimpsed at the party. I’d blotted most of the wretched evening from my mind. Two unfamiliar girls were also sitting by the fire.

  Max had a nice smile, and he immediately stood and moved over so both Finley and I could sit together. “Hey, everyone, this is my friend, Eden. She’s staying with us this summer.”

  I waved quickly and sat down in between Cole and Finley. Cole smiled down at me. “Tonight’s party should be more fun than last night’s. But I guess that isn’t saying much. Sorry about that whole thing last night.”

  Max leaned forward. “Speaking of last night, where’s Jude?”

  Cole pushed a marshmallow onto a stick and handed it to me. “Last time I saw him he was in the gym beating the shit out of the punching bag.”

  “I wished I’d seen him making a punching bag out of Mike, the douche bag,” the guy across the way commented.

  Finley must have sensed my discomfort with the topic. “Hey, guys, new subject.” She reached across for a marshmallow stick.

  Cole elbowed me. “Hey, your marshmallow just took a dive.” He reached into the marshmallow bag.

  “I’m all right. I don’t need one. I never have good luck toasting them.” I handed him back the stick. The topic of Jude had reduced my appetite for marshmallows.

  “I thought Jude might join us tonight to celebrate his new freedom,” Cole said.

  Finley and I both turned to him. “What do you mean?” Finley asked.

  “They took the ankle monitor off today. Jude’s a free man.”

  I was not prepared for how profoundly that comment would affect me.

  Max laughed. “I guess that means he’ll be out of here soon. Four months of being cooped up in this house would be torture.”

  Max had, of course, no idea that his comment was significant, but Cole and I both peeked over at Finley to gage her reaction. She bit her lip as she stared down at her marshmallow.

  “Hey, Finley,” Max said, “watch that all those bracelets of yours don’t get too hot by the fire. Yo
u’ll burn your skin.”

  I thought it was sweet of him to worry about it, but Finley didn’t respond. I knew she was still dwelling on the earlier comment.

  “Is Jude still seeing that stuck-up girl, Remi, or whatever the heck her name was?” one of the girls asked.

  “Remi?” Max asked. “Is that the chick who plays in all those zombie flicks?”

  “Yeah, that’s her,” Cole said. “The whole house arrest thing put an end to that relationship. But truthfully, I think Jude was glad to see her go.”

  “So he’s not seeing anyone?” the same girl asked. Even through the dancing flames, I could see the gleam in her eye.

  Cole looked over at Max. “I love inviting chicks over and then spending the entire night answering questions about my brother.”

  “Sorry, Coley” the girl said. “You know how much I love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He stabbed a marshmallow onto a stick and pushed it into the flames.

  “Where are you from, Eden?” Max asked.

  “I’m from the valley,” I answered, and decided no elaboration was necessary.

  “Are you a cousin?” the girl across the pit asked, and it seemed all eyes were on me.

  “She’s a long time friend,” Finley said sharply. Her mood had definitely disintegrated since Max’s comment, and I truly hoped she would snap out of it. She looked over at me. “I feel like I’ve known her a lifetime.”

  I smiled back at her. “We’re really close. Like sisters.”

  Finley reached over and grabbed my hand. A large splash in the pool made everyone sit forward.

  “Who’s swimming?” Max asked.

  Cole shrugged and sat back. “Well Butch and Sundance would rather become vegetarian than go anywhere near that pool, so it must be Jude. I guess he decided to cool off after his workout.”