Love Unlocked (9 page)

“So, have you ever thought about having kids?” he asked, causing her to choke a little on her bite of pastry and forcing all her salacious thoughts right out of her brain.

Eve considered her options for reply. She could be flippant or coy, but she noticed the steely gaze that was coming into Hudson’s eyes. He’d be hurt if she didn’t answer him honestly.

She decided to be candid. “That’s quite the most personal question you’ve ever asked me, Mr. Cleary. The answer is, yes. I’d like to have kids. But the distance between the idea of having children and actually being in a position to have them seems as wide as the English Channel.”

“Yes. Wanting and having are two different things.”

He wasn’t necessarily talking about children anymore as he appeared to be looking at her mouth. She licked her lips instinctively. She tasted chocolate, knew that he wanted more than a taste of her.

They were separated by the width of the table, and by all the secrets she held inside of her. She was only beginning to know this man, but her body had already decided to trust him. She’d told him next to nothing about herself, yet he seemed to be able to read her instinctively. The thought was unsettling. For years, her life had depended on her being unreadable, or on only letting people see the aspects of her she wanted them to. She couldn’t control which parts she let Hudson glimpse. Was it frightening, or freeing?

“We don’t always get what we want,” she said, not very originally.

“Sometimes, we can take it.” His voice was low, and his meaning unmistakable this time.

Eve wanted him more than ever by then. Every nerve she had was attuned to him. If they’d been touching, she would have given herself to him in an instant.

“I’d still like to sketch you,” he said, changing the subject and leaving her disoriented for a moment.

“Oh, well. We’ll see,” she said, trying not to sound as utterly lost in him as she felt.

She drank another sip of coffee. It didn’t seem to be perking her up. Instead, like the prey of a viper, she was mesmerized by the man sitting across from her. She swayed in her chair. Why didn’t he come to her, take her into his arms like he had before? Eve pushed away thoughts of propriety, of the children sleeping down the hall.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a very mysterious woman?” he asked, inclining his body toward her.

She smiled faintly. “You’re something of a closed book, yourself.”

He shook his head. “I’m private, but I’m open with those I trust and care about. You’re something else.”

“So you’re saying I could ask you anything?” she said, deflecting, but also curious.

“That depends,” he said carefully. “Should I trust you?”

At the same instant, they both turned their heads toward the noise of keys rattling in the front door’s lock. Eve had been so absorbed in their minefield of a conversation she hadn’t heard a car drive up. Hudson stood to clear away their plates and mugs. He set them in the sink.

“They’ll want to turn in,” he said.

“Yes. Let me,” she said, starting the water in the sink. He nodded, and she quickly washed the dishes they’d used, pouring the dregs of the coffee down the drain and rinsing the French press as well. She heard Hudson in the living room, greeting his brother in a low voice. When she emerged from the kitchen, she saw Will disappear down the hall, his eldest child asleep in his arms. Nancine thanked Hudson in a loud whisper.

“They gave her some fluids, and she’s going to be in bed for a few days, but she’ll be fine. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Hudson said. “Call me tomorrow if you need any more help with the kids.”

Eve could tell he meant the offer.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Eve. I hope next time we get to talk more,” Nancine said as she slid out of her shoes and yawned.

“Sure.” Eve smiled. She found herself wanting to get to know the other woman. To be so easily accepted was touching. It made her miss her old life a little less.

Hudson’s hand was on her back as they whispered their goodbyes and made their way down the path. Most of the houses on the suburban street were dark at this late hour.

She breathed in the fresh air greedily. It helped her head clear from all the coffee and sexual tension. She offered to drive Hudson home, already having decided to leave him at the doorstep. She wouldn’t even get out of the car.

He directed her to the east end of town, away from the beach. He lived in a sparsely built neighborhood of Craftsman homes. The one he told her to stop in front of was large, but more run down compared to the others on the street.

“Is this where your studio is?” Eve asked.

“Yes, when I moved back to the area I was in a hurry for a studio. This house had a large sunroom in the back that I adapted. Good morning light. Not that it’s done me much good lately.”

Eve heard a tired resignation in his voice that she longed to soothe.

“I kind of figured you for a beach person.”

“I’d love to live closer to the water,” he said. “Or someplace with a view. I thought I wanted a place with few distractions.”

My place has a view
, she wanted to say. As he moved to get out of the car, she girded herself to be strong, to rebuff his coming invitation.

“Well, thanks again for the ride, for dinner, and for helping me with the kids and everything.”

“Of course,” she said.

“I’ll come get the truck in the morning. Goodnight.” Then he was gone, the door shut firmly behind him. He was inside the house before Eve recovered enough to put the car in drive and make a U-turn to head west toward her place.

“Goodnight yourself,” she muttered peevishly. All that sexual tension, all that intimate talk, and not even a kiss. She didn’t have the right to be grumpy because she’d been denied the opportunity to tell him no.

That didn’t stop her from grumping all the way home.

When Eve woke up Saturday morning, Hudson’s truck had already vanished from her driveway; he must have caught a ride as soon as he was able. She didn’t know what to think about that, but it saved her from having to navigate yet another fraught encounter with him. She couldn’t keep her footing around him. Not having to see him was a relief. Really. She could ignore the empty feeling he’d left her with last night and try to fill it with shopping for table linens online.

She hadn’t heard from John, either, but he was liable to pop in and out without warning, so she didn’t dwell on his radio silence. It gave her a chance to consider Deacon and the difficult position he’d put her in.

She had two options. Even though she’d told John that she’d do what Deacon wanted, she could ignore his attempt to blackmail her into stealing a ten million dollar painting, and take her chances that he wouldn’t retaliate somehow. That was the option most appealing on principle. She didn’t owe the odious man anything, and his presumptive backing her into a corner and forcing her to make a dangerous move for a high-profile painting to settle some imagined debt was irritating in the extreme.

The second option was to appear to go along with his plan, buy herself some time, and then try to subvert him, best him at his own game, so she’d regain the upper hand and be rid of him for good. That was the outcome she’d most like to see, but unfortunately, with Deacon’s deadline a few days away, she didn’t have any concrete idea of how to do it.

Hudson’s staying away was a good thing, she told herself as she scrubbed the tile in her downstairs powder room when she’d run out of things to order online. Cleaning cleared her head and allowed her to think. She needed to be occupied with Deacon and that damned painting, not with Hudson and his mouth or the fact that he’d left her hanging on Friday night, even if he didn’t know it.

She was mildly worried about Will and Nancine’s little girl. Perhaps she’d grown sicker and that was why Hudson hadn’t called. Not that he’d said he’d call. Still, she’d sort of expected
something
, considering they’d had what some normal people might call a date. She’d cooked for him, for goodness’ sake.

She was getting herself all worked up, and over the wrong issue. Deacon posed a much greater threat to her than some guy not calling to say hello.

Eve sighed and moved her cleaning materials to the guest bath. There was a lot of tile in there.

***

Sunday morning, Eve rose at dawn and went out to inspect her new back deck, which was officially open for business. She was pleased with the work the carpenters had done. Sturdy yet elegant. The clean smell of fresh sawdust made her itch to get some outdoor furniture as soon as possible.

So she drove thirty miles down the coast to the nearest big box hardware store, ordered enough deck tables, chairs, and umbrellas to host a small wedding, and while she was at it, loaded up on pots, plants, fertilizer, and other goodies. She intended to hire a professional to landscape the front and back of the house, but she could handle a few geraniums in pots.

She’d gotten an early enough start so it was not yet noon when she arrived back at the house, groceries added to her haul. The house phone was ringing as she pushed open the front door. Since John was the only one who had that number, she ran for it, leaving bags strewn behind her.

“You’re out of breath,” John observed when she answered. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

She mentally stuck her tongue out at him. “I was running errands, what’s up? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m in Santa Barbara. I have news for you, from Deacon. Is this a secure line?”

“Who knows? I would have thought so, until you came by with your cheerful news. Let’s assume Deacon is the only one who would care to listen to my conversations.”

“All right. Well, to be brief, he’s assuming you’re going to go through with his, ah, request, and has provided a few more details.”

“Wonderful. How helpful.”

“I know you’re not eager to do this job, Evie darling, but we really don’t have much choice,” John said mildly.

“Ugh. I’m so sick of this entire mess. The quicker we do it and Deacon can be out of my life, the better.”

“Then write this down....”

***

Hudson steered his truck up Eve’s hill. He was a happy man. He’d spent Father’s Day morning eating more than his share of pancakes and bacon at Will and Nancine’s. His father and mother had come down from Paso Robles and they’d made a full house. Gracie’s fever was gone, and though she’d been lying in a nest of blankets on the couch when he got there, her mood was good and it didn’t look like either of the other kids was getting sick.

How lucky he was to have family living five minutes down the road, people he loved and cared about. His little brother was the consummate family man, running his own business, providing for his wife and kids. Nancine was a great mom, firm but loving, and she worked part time at the elementary school library. He’d been slowly working up to it for a while, but Hudson was firmly in the camp of wanting what they had. Not that he necessarily wanted to stay in Chelsea forever. He wanted all of the joy, and the responsibility, that came with settling down with a partner for life.

Nancine had grilled him, naturally, about Eve. He’d grinned, and said, truthfully, that there wasn’t much to tell. She was a friend, one he hoped might be more. His sister-in-law had seemed satisfied with that explanation and told him she’d liked the woman on sight, even if she was “annoyingly drop-dead gorgeous.”

Hudson agreed with the statement. He found Eve gorgeous
and
annoying. Saturday, after his monthly stint helping out at the library book sale, he’d tried to channel sexual frustration into some work in his studio, but he wanted the real thing. Eve belonged in his bed and in front of his easel. She turned him rock hard with a mere glance; with chocolate from that éclair glazing those sweet lips, he’d been ready to take her on the kitchen table he’d been eating his pancakes at.

As much as he wanted her body, he needed to know more about what was going on in that brain of hers. She held a lot back from him, and he needed to know what that baggage was before he got in too deep.

He made a noise of disgust as the roof of her tidy Victorian appeared over the crest of Oak Grove Hill.
In too deep
. What would he call thinking about marriage and family, stupid grin on his face, as he was driving toward said woman? Complications were already piled hip high, and the worst part was, he didn’t even know what kind of trouble would plant a beautiful, mysterious woman in his backyard to tease him with the end of his artist’s block, but with enough secrets standing in the way to ensure nothing could be resolved with the one solution he could think of—taking Eve to bed and letting the chips fall.

He wouldn’t over think that. If it happened, it happened. For the moment, he just wanted to see her face.

Hudson was pleased to see Eve’s car in her driveway, but his pulse quickened with a shot of nervous adrenaline when he found the trunk of her car, as well as the front door to the house, standing wide open. He walked up slowly, noting the bags of groceries on the threshold. He palmed his cell phone, ready to call his brother should something be amiss. Eve wouldn’t leave her house standing open, the alarm uselessly unengaged. If there was one thing he knew about her, she was meticulous about security.

He entered the house. He hadn’t seen another car, so a visitor was unlikely, but there were many places an intruder could park hidden from the road and then walk in if they didn’t want to be seen.

From the living room, he heard her.

“I can be in position on Friday afternoon, once I figure out how to get us in at the gala.”

Hudson relaxed. She was on the phone. He started to go farther into the house, to alert her to his presence, but stopped at her next words.

“Why on Earth would I invite Hudson into this mess?” A pause. “You’re crazy. I told you the last thing I need to worry about is a civilian while I’m trying to steal a painting worth...I know, at least the Mondrian is small.”