Levi's Blue: A Sexy Southern Romance (7 page)

“Someone bought
Lady.
”

“Who?  Who bought her?”

“A private collector. Won’t give a name. Just a corporation, but that’s not the point.  Someone paid you forty thousand dollars
for a painting
!”

I’m dumbstruck.
Lady
was one of my most personal paintings.  A self-portrait of sorts, my interpretation of the woman I was when I could see.  She’s special to me, and I didn’t
really
want to sell her, which is why her price tag was so steep. I never thought anyone would pay that. Not from an unknown artist from Nowhere, USA.

But someone did.

Someone loved her enough to pay forty thousand dollars for her.

I clamp my hand over my mouth, but I can’t squelch the laughter squeezing out around my fingers. 

“I couldn’t wait to tell you, but I’m done now, so I want you to go celebrate with that dude.  Preferably naked.  With some oil and plastic sheets.  Maybe some lightweight rope.  Call me later. Love you.”  She makes a smooching sound into the phone before it goes dead. She does that all the time—hangs up before I’m ready, but I don’t even care right now. Not today.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”  I throw out my arms, laughing maniacally as I spin in circles until my head is so dizzy I don’t know which way is up.  I sway woozily, but rather than losing my balance and falling, I tip into the strong arms of Levi. It seems they’re always around to save me when I need saving.

Impulsively, I loop my arms around his neck and smash my mouth to his. Levi goes completely still, but just before I pull back, I feel his lips soften, like he might’ve been going to deepen the kiss. 

But I’m too giddy with the good news to be embarrassed by my actions.  I let my head drop back, and I go limp, feeling safe and secure in the tight hold of Levi’s thick, muscular arms. I feel like reveling, and he seems to feel like letting me.

It’s only when I quiet (somewhat) that he asks, “Good news?”

“The best!  Someone bought my most expensive painting at the show the other night. The funds cleared this morning.”

“That’s great! Is that the first painting you’ve sold?”

“No, but it’s the most expensive.  And I’m going to use every dime of the money to put toward my surgery.”

“Surgery?”

Levi straightens. When he does, he’s standing so close our thighs are touching. He doesn’t bother to release me, just keeps a loose hold on me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Yes.  The type of blindness I have is from the trauma of the car accident.  There’s no way to correct it, but my doctor told me a couple of years ago about an experimental surgery that could have a significant impact on my vision.  The insurance will only pay for forty percent of it, though, so I have to come up with the rest on my own. But, Levi! I just sold a painting that will go a long way toward making up my portion of the surgery.  Levi!” I say breathlessly.  My chest is so tight with happiness and exhilaration, I’m finding it hard to make my lungs work.

“Evie!”

“There’s a chance I could see again. At least somewhat. More than just brightness. If the surgery works, I could see real shapes and maybe even some colors.  They’d be blurry, but still… And there’s a chance it could restore even more than that.
Levi
, do you know what this means?”

“Well, since I understand the English language, I’m guessing it means you’d be able to see.”

“It means I’d be able to
seeeeee
!”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds as I fling my arms back again, feeling free as a bird in the wide open sky. 

“I know what I have to do,” he finally mutters solemnly.

His tone brings me up short.  “What?”

“I need to take you to the bayou.”

“The bayou? Why?”

“You said that’s where you want to go, and if I take you there and you get inspired, that means you’ll paint more. If you paint more, you’ll sell more. If you sell more, you can get your surgery quicker. In essence, I will be instrumental in giving you back your sight.  I’m pretty sure that would
at the very least
earn me a few kisses.  Maybe some second base action.”

I can’t help smiling. “I just kissed you.”

“No, your mouth ran into my mouth when you got excited. Not
at all
what I had in mind.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, I’m
definitely
not complaining. It was quite a pleasurable collision.”

“Because, you know, there’s a distinct possibility that could happen again.  Under the right circumstances, that is.”

“I’m counting on it,” he whispers, his lips suddenly close to my ear.  “Now let’s get you home. You need to shower and dress for dinner tonight. We’re going out to celebrate.”

I don’t bother arguing. Not only do I
not want to argue
, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t do me any good if I did.

“Levi?” I begin again, feeling feather-light and elated and invincible.

“Evie?”

“What color are your eyes?”

“Pardon?”

“What color are your eyes?” I repeat, a knot of glee pulsing at the base of my throat.

“Blue.”

“What color blue?” It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It matters as much as my next breath.  I feel like I
have to know. 
I have to know what color his eyes are.

He gives it a few seconds thought.  “Dark blue. Like… I don’t know.  Denim maybe.”

“Denim blue.”

“Yeah, denim blue.”  After a short pause, he adds, “Levi’s blue.”

I bet he’s grinning slyly. 

I grin back, my heart near bursting with happiness.

“Levi’s blue.” 

That will forever be the color of happiness in my mind. 

CHAPTER 8

LEVI

“HOLY SHIT, you look hot!” I blurt when Evie answers the door a few hours later.  She’s wearing pencil-slim black pants that fit her to perfection and a sparkly green sweater that falls off one shoulder and sets off the cream of her skin.

“Now I think you’re just trying to shock me.”

“Makes you smile, doesn’t it?” I ask, stepping through the door she’s holding open.

“That it does.”

“You really shouldn’t open the door, you know.”

“How will I ever get outside?”

“Wise ass,” I murmur.

“What is this obsession with my ass?” she asks in her sassy way as she walks across a brightly furnished living room.

Her steps are sure and easy.  She’s comfortable here. That much is clear.

“Ha. Ha.”

She jerks upright from where she was bending to feel for her purse in one of the two armless chairs facing a bank of windows on the other wall.  “What? No witty response?”

“You just bent over in front of me. I was struck temporarily speechless.  You’ve gotta give me a second.”

“That’s a little more like it.”

“But like I could deny being obsessed with your ass. You know damn well I am.  Hell, I even told the doorman at my hotel about it.”

“Oh God, I hope you’re joking.”  When I say nothing, she asks more slowly, “You
are
joking, right?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, I’m not sure if I would or not.”

“Let’s just say you’re well on your way to having a famous ass.”

“Is that your way of saying my ass gets around?”

I laugh.  “And
you
call
me
incorrigible?”

“I would never!” She mocks outrage.

“No, of course not. Blind women don’t have thorns.”

“I am all soft petals and sweet aroma, thank you very much.” She sniffs haughtily, brushing her shiny blonde hair away from her cheek.  All I can think about is pulling her into my arms and kissing that smart little mouth of hers.

“I have no doubt you’re soft and sweet in all the right places,” I murmur just loud enough for her to hear.

She goes quiet, and I know she feels it, too—the way this insane pull between us cranks up a few more notches, the way our attraction snaps and sizzles in the air like an arc of electricity stretching from one to the other.

“So, this is how you two talk to each other?”

A woman about the same height as Evie’s five-six or so comes out of a room to the left, fastening an earring as she walks. She has chin-length dirty blonde hair, pointed, pixie features, and her heels are so high, if she falls, she’ll surely break a hip.

“Always,” Evie answers, smiling.  “Levi, meet Cherelyn Smith. Cherelyn, this is Levi…”  She pauses, her cheeks blooming with color.  “I just realized I don’t know your last name.”

“Michaelson,” I supply.  “Levi Michaelson. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” they both say in unison.

“Any relation to the senator from New York?” Cherelyn asks.

I swallow.  “Can I plead the fifth?”

It’s Evie who busts me on my answer.  “Pleading the fifth again? Just how many skeletons
do
you have in the closet?”

“It’s a damn graveyard in there.”

She nods.  “A man of intrigue. I like it.”  Unfazed, she glances in the general direction of Cherelyn and bids her goodnight.  “See you tonight.  I hope it goes well.”  Evie turns back in my general direction when she explains, “She’s attending an event she’s been planning for a month.  It’s a sweet sixteen party for the daughter of an oil magnate.  It could mean a lot of repeat business for her if it goes well.”

“Ahhh,” I acknowledge, nodding as I tuck my hands into my pockets. “Good luck then.” 

No offense to Evie, but I’m not the least bit interested in her friend.  I just want to get out of here and have her all to myself.

Evie has just started toward me when Cherelyn stops her.

“Wait.  Can’t you tell me a story before you go?  This girl’s mother is
the worst
!  I’m so nervous.”

Evie’s lips curl into a smile that I can only label as mischievous.  “The one with the brown hair helmet?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Don’t let her bother you. She got all her teeth knocked out in an ‘Ugly Girls of Delta Psi’ mud wrestling tournament in college.  Since then, she’s had a hard time finding false teeth to fit that Mr. Ed mouth of hers.  If you hit her just right, they’ll come flying out and skitter across the floor.  She’d have to get down on all fours to find them, and you know how
that
would look with that lumpy butt of hers.  The lumps, Cher!  They’re just so
big
!”

Evie’s friend’s expression brightens considerably, and she giggles.  “You’re the best.”

“All in a day’s work,” Evie replies with a sweet smile for her friend. 

She lets herself get dragged in for a hug and a kiss to the cheek before Cherelyn turns to pin me with shrewd hazel eyes.  “You hurt her, and my two brothers from Texas will come to your house and show you what they do to turn bulls into steers.”

I hold up my hands in surrender.  “I mean no harm. 
She’s
the one who keeps coming on to
me
!” I tease, impressed when Evie swings her purse and manages to connect with my arm.  “Can she see and I’m just a sucker?” I loud-whisper to her friend, ducking when Evie swings again, this time at my head.  She misses by a mile.  “Never mind. The first time was obviously just blind luck.”

Cherelyn smiles, but it’s Evie’s laughter that I find most rewarding.

“You’re an asshole.”

“But I’m a
hot
asshole, so…”

“Do you
really
think that matters to a blind girl?” she asks dryly.

“Barking up the wrong tree, am I?”

She just shakes her head and moves past me toward the door.  “Get me some food before I get grouchy. You do
not
want to see how that ends.”

“Then by all means, move that sweet ass.”

She tosses me a saucy grin and reaches back to slap said sweet ass.

“I can do that for you if you need to focus on not falling,” I offer, wishing she’d take me up on it. I’d love to get my hands on that ass, preferably sans clothing.

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it under control.”

“Well, the offer stands. Anytime you need it smacked, slapped, stroked, spanked, or otherwise touched, I’m your man.”

“Bring her back in one piece,” Cherelyn shouts as we step out into the hall.

“I think she just called you a hot piece.  Something I should know about you two?”

Evie reaches back to grab my tie and tug me along behind her. I willingly follow in her citrus-scented wake.  “Come on, cowboy! All this banter is making me ravenous.”

Damn, she’s sexy! Even when she isn’t trying to be.

“Ravenous,” I repeat with a growl, not
at all
ravenous for
food
. 

The trill of her laughter bounces off the walls of the hall, and I find myself smiling.

Again.

Or maybe
still.

********

“So, where are you taking me?” Evie asks when we exit the cab.

“You’ll see soon enough.”  When she gives me a wry look, I correct my gaffe.  “I mean, you’ll
smell
soon enough.”

“Better,” she says with a sanguine smile.

“I know we tease a lot, but you really
are
tolerant of other people’s blunders, aren’t you?”

She shrugs one shoulder, the bare one, drawing my eye to the feminine sweep of her neck and the alabaster skin of her throat.  For a second, I imagine the feel of her under my palms, under my lips, but then she responds and brings me back to the present. “It’s that or get angry and offended.  Besides, most people don’t do it on purpose.”

“Except for me. I totally do it on purpose.  Anything to antagonize you.”

“A man who tries to win me through insults. It’s a new approach, but I must say it’s working so far.”

“Is it?”

My question is sincere.  Yeah, we tease and joke, but the more I’m around Evian de Champlain, the more interested I am in spending more time with her.  With making her laugh, winning that smile, seeing the world through her blind eyes.

When she doesn’t answer, I open the door for her, placing my hand at the small of her back to guide her. Evie doesn’t move, though, but stops right beside me. “Very much.”

“Very much what?”  It doesn’t take much—touching her, smelling her, thinking about the way she feels against me and why we seem to fit so perfectly—to derail my train of thought.

“Your approach. It’s very much working so far.”

Her voice is low and serious, and her expression is pleased.  There’s a twinkle in her eye that’s not so much amusement as it is something else. 

“Are you ever gonna let me kiss you?” I mutter before she moves on.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to try.”

“I’m not fond of getting slapped.”

“I promise not to slap you,” she pledges softly.  “Besides, my aim is terrible.”

She gives me a cute grin and steps into the restaurant.  She stops only a few feet in and inhales deeply. 

“Problem?”

“No. Just savoring the aroma.  It’s a steak house. And a really good one. I can tell.”

“As much as you enjoyed the bread from that little bistro, I thought there might be a few things on this menu that would tickle your taste buds.”

“Well, if nothing here does the trick, maybe something
afterward
will.”

Her lips are curled up at the corners in a sexy little smile.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“What would you say if I said yes?”

“I’d say do it again.”

The hostess chooses that moment to return to her stand.  “May I help you?”

“Reservation for Michaelson.”

The small brunette scans her list and then looks back up at me with a very bright smile.  “Yes, right this way.”

Evie tightens her grip on my arm and scoots in closer to me.  I feel the tension she’s suddenly carrying in her body. She’s as taut as a bowstring.  “Tell me, do the aisles narrow?” Her voice is small, laced with concerned.

I look ahead and see that they do.

“They do. Why?”

“Can we fit side-by-side?”

“Probably not.”

“Oh.  I, uh, I didn’t want to use my white cane if I could help it, but…”

“Why not?”

Her face pales noticeably, all except the red stains on her cheeks.  “I didn’t want to embarrass you.  People will stare.”

My mouth falls open.

I just hate being treated differently.

Jesus.

My hold on her tightens.  “You won’t embarrass me.  I don’t give a shit what people think or
who
stares.  Do what makes you comfortable.”

She chews the inside of her cheek for a few seconds before she reaches into her bag and takes out a collapsible white cane.  “I could use this or you could hold my hand and I’ll walk behind you.  I’ll leave it up to you.”

I think carefully about my answer, feeling damned if I do and damned if I don’t. In the end, I just let her decide.

“Okay, so here’s where my head’s at.  Of course, I’d
love
to hold your hand, but I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t want you to use your cane. You will
not
embarrass me either way, so I’ll let you decide.  Whatever makes
you
more comfortable.”

Evie’s sigh is a visible thing, her shoulders sagging with relief.  She slips her collapsible cane back into her purse and feels for my left arm, sliding her right hand down until her fingers are laced with mine.  I give them a squeeze.

“Why was that so hard?” I ask.

She shrugs, but this one is different. It’s shy and insecure.  Even her face is tilted down. Not at all the Evie I’ve seen thus far.  It makes me realize what the previous men in her life have made her feel, what they’ve done to her self-esteem. What the cruel, cynical, shitty
world
has done to her self-esteem.  “Handholding is a little intimate.  I didn’t know if you’d want to give that impression.”

I raise our joined hands to my mouth and press my lips to her knuckles.  “Keep talking like that and I’ll be kissing you for the first time in a
very
public place.”

Her smile is barely there. Wary.