Anticipation(19)

She'd just crossed a major line. For ten years, she'd lived by a set of  rules where Eddie was concerned. She didn't get sucked into any dramas  with his women. She never slept with men who looked like him or reminded  her of him in any way. Period. And she never, ever let herself  fantasize about him when she touched herself. She'd always known that  that way lay madness, and she'd always kept faith with herself,  quarantining her love and need for him from her own sex and fantasy  life.

You are in so much trouble.

She was - and she had no idea what to do about it.

Not a single damned clue.

Every day she hoped it would get better, and every day it seemed to get worse.

So what? Suck it up, princess. A little bit of thwarted desire never  killed anybody. And if you need sex so bad, go find it someplace else,  like you used to.

It was a good idea. There were half a dozen guys in her contacts folder  who would be at her place like a shot if she sent up a flare. Reid, for  starters. Then there was Mac, and Lucas. She could call one of them  right now and know that no matter what Eddie did or said tonight, no  matter how many times he touched her or laughed with her or looked into  her eyes, she had it covered.

Her phone was in her back pocket, but she didn't reach for it.

The sad truth was, she didn't want to sleep with any of her former lovers. She wanted Eddie.

Only Eddie.





Eddie stepped out of the shower, aware of a few new aches and pains  thanks to the action he'd enjoyed on the soccer pitch. The Ink team had  kicked ass - but that was always a given, considering how good he, Raf,  and Renarto were. In fact, Renarto had been skilled enough to play  soccer at state level when he was younger - a little fact they'd  withheld from the guys from the coffee shop until after the game. Eddie  laughed out loud as he remembered the chagrined looks on their faces  when they'd heard the news.

He toweled himself dry quickly, aware that Blue was waiting. Man, it had  been good to look up and see her on the sidelines. He'd been almost  sure he'd convinced her to come, but not one hundred percent. She could  be hard to pin down, sometimes. But she'd come, and now he would stuff  her full of good food before whipping her at Trivial Pursuit. Just like  old times.

He was pulling on a pair of jeans, his head full of the dishes he wanted  to cook, when his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, and he  hesitated a moment before deciding to take the call.

"Eddie speaking."

"Eddie Oliveira," a husky female voice said. "This is Cleo, Maggie's friend. Remember me?"

Eddie tossed the damp towel onto the bed.

"Cleo. What's happening?" he asked easily, even though his heart was  sinking. Unless he missed his guess, shit was about to get awkward.

"You didn't answer my question," Cleo asked, laughter in her voice.

"I remember you," Eddie said.

The first time he'd met Cleo, she'd come into Ink to get her butt  tattooed. She was a very sexy lady, and one thing had led to another  during her appointment - not something he was particularly proud of  eighteen months later. Especially because he'd bumped into her a couple  of times since, Cleo being one of Maggie's close friends. Nothing like  being forced to look a mistake in the eyes to really make you regret it.         

     



 

"Good, because I remember you. We didn't get a chance to refresh that  memory at Maggie's birthday, but I was wondering if you'd care to help  me out and we could have another go at that?" Cleo said.

"That sounds pretty tempting, Cleo, but I've got a lot going on right  now," Eddie said, trotting out the same line he'd been using a lot  lately.

"You don't even know what I want yet," Cleo said.

He could practically see her pouting. She was one of the few women he'd met who could actually get away with it, too.

"It's probably not going to make much difference, to be honest with you," Eddie said.

"Really? I can't tempt you with an invitation to the Birdcage on  Melbourne Cup day, followed by an A-list party? Hugh Jackman's going to  be there, and maybe Nicole Kidman."

Her tone was supremely confident, but Eddie didn't hesitate.

"Sorry, Cleo. You look after yourself, though, okay?"

"Well, damn, Eddie. That is disappointing. I was relying on you to come through for me." Definitely she was pouting now.

"Sorry about that, but I'm sure you'll find a taker. Have a good night, Cleo," Eddie said before ending the call.

He'd been knocking back a lot of invitations lately, all from women like  Cleo, women he'd slept with once or twice and who wanted a return  engagement. In the past, he would have been happy to oblige in most  cases, and an afternoon in the Birdcage - the members-only rooms at  Flemington Race Course - on Melbourne Cup day surrounded by Australian  Hollywood royalty was not an invitation to be sneezed at.

And yet he didn't feel so much as a twinge of regret. Not even close.

He'd started turning down invitations out of guilt in the weeks after  Blue left his house, determined to focus on her, even though she hadn't  been around. Somehow, that impulse had turned into nearly two months of  celibacy. Blue had given him crap at her welcome home party, joking  about parts of him atrophying due to lack of use, but it didn't feel as  though he was missing out. At all. If anything, the situation had forced  him to be more conscious about the way he lived his life, to really  think about what he wanted for perhaps the first time in his thirty-one  years. And he was finding he didn't mind the clarity this small time-out  from adult activities had given him. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He pulled on a clean T-shirt, then slipped his phone into his back  pocket, ready to rejoin Blue. He was on the way out of the room when he  spotted the sketchpad lying open on his bedside table. He snagged it,  figuring he'd take advantage of the fact that Raf and Maggie still  hadn't arrived to talk to Blue about the ideas he'd been working on the  past few weeks.

Blue wasn't in the living room when he entered, and he checked the  kitchen before spotting her on the deck, chilling on the outdoor lounge  with a beer in hand.

"Check it out, practically odor free," he said as he joined her, holding his arms out from his sides.

"That's what you think," Blue said. Her gaze went to the sketch pad.  "What's wrong? You need me to come to the rescue and fix your art  again?"

He smiled faintly. He, Raf, and Blue often consulted with each other  over tattoo designs and techniques, a habit they'd developed early in  their careers. He didn't have a problem admitting that she'd helped him  create some of his best designs, and vice versa.

"I was thinking this is more about me coming to your rescue," he said,  sitting beside her and opening the book to the sketch he'd been working  on.

Blue went very still beside him as she looked at the stylized script  intertwined with jungle foliage and bright flowers. He'd blacked in half  the letters, so the other half were still in outline only, but the  words from Corinthians 13: 4-7 were clearly legible.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it  is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is  not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight  in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts,  always hopes, always perseveres.

Eddie slanted a look at Blue's face, but she was focused on the page, her expression neutral to the point of blankness.

"What do you think?" Eddie asked. "I figure this solves the style issue you were worried about."

Two years ago, he'd started work on a tattoo featuring the Corinthians  verse designed to fill her entire back. He'd gotten as far as inking in  the first letter of the text in the style of an illuminated manuscript  when Blue had called a halt, claiming a change of heart. At the time,  he'd been surprised - doubt of any kind was rare for Blue - but after a  number of discussions trying to solve the issue and being unable to do  so, he'd let it go, figuring she'd bring it up again when she was ready.         

     



 

It had been on his mind lately, though, probably because Blue had been  occupying so much real estate in his head, and he'd spent some of his  spare time toying with possible solutions.

She reached out to shift the sketch pad so it faced her more fully, but she still didn't say a word.

"That bad, huh?" he asked, feeling suddenly, unaccountably nervous. It  had been a long time since he'd second-guessed his own skill and the  feeling was uncomfortable, to say the least.

"This is a good idea." Her finger traced the vine he'd woven through the words. "I like the way it ties into my fairies."

That had been her major objections at the time she'd called a halt -  that she didn't want her body to look like Side A and Side B, with two  very disparate styles of artwork.

"We can work on it more, keep finessing things," he said.

She nodded, but he wasn't getting the vibe that she was genuinely engaged.