The You I'll Love Forever

by Alison Kent

  Chapter Eleven

  THE SCORE WAS TIED at two in the top of the ninth when Carson arrived at Zack’s game. The Lake City Hornets were on the field. Zack hovered in the pocket between second and third. Parked along the first base line, Carson hung back from the bleachers and watched the action from the hood of his Jeep.

  Not that he was trying to avoid Eva; he hadn’t seen her now for four days since that well-deserved slap in her kitchen, but there was no need to delay the inevitable. Still, she deserved this undivided time to focus on her son. Zack deserved the same. Besides, Carson wasn’t exactly dying to drag his cast up those flimsy-looking metal stands.

  The umpire called the final batter out on a low strike, and Lake City headed for the dugout. Carson knew the moment Zack spotted him by the acknowledging lift of the teen’s chin. Answering with a brief wave, Carson watched Zack jockey his way into the cyclone-fenced cage.

  The trainer handed Zack a plastic bottle. Stuffing his ball cap in his back pocket, he squirted a stream of water down his throat, then grabbed up a bat and settled a batting helmet on his head. With a grin and a quick thumbs-up aimed in Carson’s direction, Zack made his way to the on-deck circle.

  Seconds later, Carson sensed Eva’s searching gaze. She was no doubt wondering who dared interrupt her son’s concentration at such a crucial point in the game. The thought caused a wicked grin as well as a quickening in Carson’s gut, but he refused to glance toward the stands.

  If she caught him looking, she’d be on the ground and in his face. He didn’t want to see her alone. She provoked him, and he couldn’t afford to let that thing between them flare up again. Especially now that they were going to be spending a lot of time together—even if she didn’t know that yet.

  Carson dug the film canister from the pocket of his jeans and bounced it on his palm. No, what he had to tell Eva would work best with the three of them together. And with Zack doing the talking, now that Carson thought back on their earlier conversation.

  He’d stopped by the photography lab that afternoon to talk to Zack about the calendar. When Carson had casually asked if Eva ever worked on Zack’s projects, Zack had explained the deal with his mother. She’d agreed to act as model anytime he needed a human guinea pig, as long as the shoots were straight and to the point.

  And as long as the prints were for his eyes only.

  Zack defended his mother brilliantly, going on to say that Eva showed a great deal of pride in his process and awards, but seemed more open and approachable when it came to cheering at his baseball games and encouraging him in his lessons.

  Carson doubted Zack realized how much he’d revealed while he’d talked, how much of Eva’s reticence to remember her past had filtered through the conversation. Zack’s disclosure had increased Carson’s curiosity and doubled his determination to get to the bottom of Eva Channing.

  “Batter up!”

  At the ump’s call, Carson refocused his gaze on the field. The visiting team’s pitcher threw the first pitch of the final round of at bats and the Hornet slugger cracked a shot just left of the third base foul line.

  The ball sailed over the fence and out of the park, where at least six youngsters fought over the right to the prize. The winner, a dark-haired kid with baggy jeans, boat-sized athletic shoes, and a ball cap worn in reverse, headed to the concession stand.

  Carson’s gaze followed, and he couldn’t help but grab a quick breath when, from the corner of his eye, he caught the flash and flurry of the descending woman headed his way.

  God, but she had some kind of fire. The late evening sun burnished her hair; the red tips shone as bright as her anger. He had no doubt her eyes glittered wildly. She’d never been good at hiding her emotions. Denying them, yes. But this time she wasn’t holding anything back.

  He shoved the film canister back in his pocket and turned toward her, braced for the explosion. Her purposeful stride ate up the grass. Her jeans were worn, her black T-shirt faded, the yellow and black flannel she wore on top ruffled like the feathers of a mother hen.

  Carson allowed himself a moment of appreciation. She really did have long legs.

  Skidding to a stop before him, she planted her fists at her waist. “What are you doing here?”

  If she ground her jaw any tighter, he had no doubt it would splinter. And he’d been right about her eyes. He just hadn’t remembered the ferocity with which that tiger-bright stare tied a knot in his stomach.

  Bracing his good foot on the bumper of the jeep, Carson crossed his forearms on his thigh and forced himself to relax. “Thought I’d spend a few minutes of my vacation enjoying America’s favorite pastime.”

  She shoved both hands through her short, sassy hair and pulled. “You said you were going to leave.”

  “No. You said I was going to leave. All I said was that you had one hell of a power forehand.”

  Eva turned her back on him, muttering under her breath.

  He was not about to let her off the hook. One way or another, she would face what happened between them four nights ago. “What’s that?”

  Whirling around, she pinned him in place with a belligerent glare. “I said, I did not mean to hit you.”

  “I think you did mean to hit me.” He shrugged as carelessly as he could. “Things got too hot and you cooled ‘em down.”

  The shock on her face was priceless. “You think I slapped you to cool things down?”

  Carson’s foot slipped from the bumper. His heel hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud that ricocheted through his control. He shoved his shaking hands in the pockets of his jeans and fixed her with a steady gaze. “Don’t play games with me, Eva. If you didn’t want me to leave, you should have said so.”

  “I did want you to leave. I slapped you for what you said.” Lifting her chin, she dared him to defend himself. “You had no right to be so rude.”

  “Rude?” Carson bit off a gruff noise. “It was an honest question, Eva. Considering the timing of the past, I have a right to know. And now I do.”

  Her glare could have blistered film. “I told you Zack isn’t your son. You didn’t have a right to badger me.”

  He shrugged, strangely regretful about the certainty of her claim. “What can I say? You bring out the animal in me.”

  “Exactly my point.” She paused, pulled in a deep breath, and advanced with precise, measured steps. “We’ve barely spoken a civil word and you’ve been here less than two weeks. I don’t need the grief, Carson. I told you before there was no point in spending your vacation in Lake City.”

  She’d reached him now and, standing toe to toe. shook an imperious finger in his face. “If you looked me up expecting to resume our relationship, it’s not going to happen. What we had is over. I won’t—”

  Crack! The crowd erupted in a rousing cheer. Eva spun back to the game.

  And Carson took the moment to study the woman he was no longer sure he wanted to forget.

  She was right. Animal instincts aside, that kiss last Thursday night was a big mistake. What they’d done in her kitchen was going to get in the way of his plans.

  But she was wrong if she thought it was over. Or that he had no reason to be in Lake City. And because of the scene in her kitchen, he was more determined than ever to stay.

  “Did you see that? Did you see that?” Eva pointed at the runner on second base dusting the dirt and baseline chalk from his jersey. “Zack’s up next. One more run and this game’s history.”

  Carson watched Eva watch her son. A spectrum of emotion crossed her face before her features settled into a look of expectation. Both fists clenched tight to her chest, she held her breath and cringed when Zack swung at the first pitch and missed.

  “C’mon. baby. Hang in there. You can do it. You can do it.” She murmured the words quietly, then let out a whooping, “Let’s go Hornets!”

  Ah. what the hell. Carson cupped his hands into a bullhorn. “C’mon, Zack.”

  “Okay, baby. Watch it. Watch it. Watch it. Oh,
no,” she groaned, when Zack took the second strike.

  Zack tapped the plate with his bat, resettled his helmet, and readied his swing. He connected with the third pitch and Eva went ballistic, jumping and screaming and cheering him on as he stretched the outfield grounder into a double. The first runner held at third.

  “Way to sting that ball, Zack,” she yelled, following up with a loud “Woo-woo-woo” while circling her arm overhead. “One more hit, guys. Let’s get it and go home.”

  A slow grin spread over Carson’s face. Sometimes life was so sweet. Why he’d never seen it before, he didn’t stop to consider. All he knew was he’d found his way in with Eva.

  Zack was Eva’s life. She would do anything to make him happy. Carson planned to make the boy delirious.

  The next batter put the game to bed with a homer in dead centerfield. The Hornets high-fived, and congratulated the members of the other team, then sprinted to the dugout, where they fished jugs of sports drink from the team coolers. Eva’s eyes glistened and Carson had no doubt the tears were those of a mother’s pride.

  He glanced down, scuffing a clod of grass with the toe of his shoe. Like he’d know a mother’s pride if it bit him in the butt. Zack was a lucky kid. And Carson knew exactly how lucky. Eva ran a knuckle under each eye, then seemed to realize he was still standing there. She swiped both palms on the tail of her flannel shirt.

  “What a game, huh?” When he didn’t answer, she put on that assertive Eva Channing face and took up as much space as she could with her five feet, eight inches. Back to business.

  “Look, Carson. I appreciate your offer to help Zack with his calendar project. But, believe me, he’ll do fine on his own. I think it would be best if you leave before he gets used to having you around. That way you’ll save Zack, and yourself,” she added with an open-handed gesture, “a lot of resentment and aggravation.”

  “Zack doesn’t aggravate me, Eva.”

  “No, but—”

  “But he’ll come to resent me?” He arched one brow.

  She blew out a breath, looked away then back. “I don’t want Zack hurt.”

  “You don’t think you’re being overprotective here? Hell, you’ve cut and printed before the film even rolled,” Carson argued, knowing by the pale cast to her face he’d hit a nerve.

  Eva pulled both sides of her shirtfront tight and crossed her arms over her chest. “Zack was five when he saw his father burn to death in the family’s greenhouse. If I’m overprotective, I have my reasons.”

  Carson couldn’t manage a response. He barely managed to breathe. He hadn’t wanted to know about Bobby, but now recognized the other man would always be a part of Eva’s life. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “There’s no reason you would have. And I’m not booking for sympathy. That’s the last thing either Zack or I need.”

  “Why did you tell me?”

  “So you would understand why you can’t stay.”

  Carson turned his gaze to the exuberant players. God, had he ever been that young? Had he ever been that carefree? Would his life have been different if he’d lost his father at five instead of never having a father around to lose?

  Answer the question, Brandt. It’s not like it requires a lot of thought. “Seventeen’s tough. A man one minute, a kid the next. And no idea, or example, of how the hell to figure it out. It’s a wonder—” He stopped in mid-sentence when she looked at him askance. “What?”

  She hid her smile with two fingers. “Such depth. I’m impressed.”

  “Didn’t know I had it in me?” he offered candidly.

  “No. I didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m not seventeen anymore. Or even twenty- two.” Carson took a deep breath. What was a little honesty between friends? Correction, ex-lovers. “It’s been a lot of years since you walked out. And I’m not the man you left.”

  “Carson, I—”

  He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Look Eva. I like Zack. I respect him. How could I not respect a kid his age who knows exactly what he wants?”

  “He told you what he wants?” she asked, her eyes large and somber, her voice cool and collected and forcibly so.

  “We talked a lot before you got home. He bounced some ideas off me.” At her look of alarm, he added, “I’m sure it’s nothing you and he haven’t discussed.”

  Jaws ground tight, she answered, “Yes. I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t give him any off-the-wall advice or lead him into temptation. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” Carson swallowed hard. “And he loves you. He loves you a lot.”

  Eva glanced over at her son, who now had one arm slung tight around Katie’s neck. “I know he has questions he won’t ask me. He talks to his coach and to Katie’s dad sometimes, but there’s a bit of a conflict of interest there.” She added the last with a wry grin. “It would be great for him to have someone—”

  She stopped herself as if realizing what she’d just said, then turned back to Carson. “Which is my whole point. If you don’t leave before he gets attached to your words of wisdom, then what’s going to happen when he needs some heavy duty advice and has nowhere to go? You’ll be gone. Zack will be hurt. And I’ll hate you for that.”

  “More than you hate me now?” The question was rhetorical. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. He certainly didn’t want to hear her answer, and was doubly grateful when Zack and Katie appeared in his line of vision.

  “Hey, Mom,” Zack said, throwing his arm around Eva’s shoulders in a group hug. “Did that game kick some awesome ass or what?”

  “Awesome game, awesome fielding, awesome grounder there in the bottom of the ninth.” Pulling her gaze from Carson, she punched her son playfully in the ribs. “You did great.”

  “You’re just saying that because I pay you the big bucks.” Zack turned to Carson and offered a hand. “Glad you could make it.”

  “I didn’t see much, but it was enough. You’ve got quite a swing there, Zack.”

  “Yep. I’m a man of many talents. Just ask short stuff here.”

  Carson looked from Zack to Eva. Now seemed as good a time as any. “So, did you tell your mom what we talked about this afternoon?”

  Eva grew still, then shrugged out from beneath Zack’s arm and turned her gaze on her son. “Actually, he didn’t even tell me he’d seen you this afternoon.”

  Zack jerked his cap from his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Carson came by the lab and we got the calendar angle figured out. Instead of black and white, I’m going to work with shadows. You know those diamond commercials? Where you see a silhouette of the model? And only the jewelry’s in focus?”

  Eva nodded. “Sounds intriguing.”

  “That’s the approach I’m taking. Carson’s going to help me out with the finer points.” Resettling his cap, Zack cocked his hip and planted both hands at his waist.

  “And you’re going to be my model.”

  EVA WANTED TO SLAP herself as hard as she’d slapped Carson in her kitchen a week ago Thursday night. Now it was Saturday morning. And she wanted to slap herself harder. Twice as hard. Three times as hard. She deserved the pain.

  Sitting on the edge of her bed, she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. God, why had she not seen this coming? Zack knew she’d never turn him down, but this time she felt manipulated, used. Cheaply used. She bit off a panicked laugh. How much did a shadow make anyway?

  Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would once again be facing Carson from the business end of a camera. Okay, Zack would be taking the pictures. Not Carson. But he’d be there. He’d be there.

  Carson, who still made her blood pool languid and thick, then run fevered and fast and hot. Carson, who had touched her with magic, who had caused her pain, who had given her more joy than she’d thought to find in one lifetime.

  Carson, who was no longer the boy she’d left behind. Who was now a man she wanted to know.

  “Mom? You rea
dy?” Zack rapped on her bedroom door.

  “Be out in a minute,” she called, shoving her feet into leather flats. Shoes were such a nuisance. There was nothing to separate this Saturday morning from any other. Her boots would have worked just as well and wouldn’t have pinched her toes.

  Zack had insisted her clothing didn’t matter; he only intended to use her shadow. So why had she be bothered with makeup? She’d chosen to wear jeans, though these were black and trim, not white with repeated wear.

  She stood and tugged the straight legs down, then scowled. Her Levi’s fit much more comfortably. She ought to change. But the black did look better with the earth-tone stripes in the form-fitting pullover she’d bought last night.

  Too form-fitting, she realized as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She pulled on the complementary pine green big shirt, and had the sleeves pushed to the elbows when Zack knocked again.

  “Mom, let’s go. The sun’s going to be at the angle I need in just over an hour. I want to try the shot at the lily pond without lights, so we gotta go.”

  Such charming impatience she’d taught this kid. “On my way.”

  She pulled open her bedroom door and, eyes wide, Zack fell back in an exaggerated display of theatrics. Eva scowled. “Very funny.”

  “You look great. Carson’s gonna be impressed. ”

  And no doubt think she’d dressed for that reason “I’m going to change.”

  “You don’t have time,” Zack argued, grabbing her arm and tugging her down the hall. “I’ve got the van loaded and running. Carson’s gonna meet us there.”

  “You mean if we’re lucky we might miss him?”

  Zack just rolled his eyes. Eva followed her son through the house. Once in the van, she fastened her seat belt and pulled it tight, strapping herself into her own personal electric chair and waiting for the execution to come.