Evelyn Vine Be Mine (62 page)

My face fell as I realised I’d still be at the university. I hadn’t even booked a flight home yet for the holidays. I hadn’t known whether to spend my birthday with my friends – split up as the group was – or with the family in Darwin – or with my family in Townsville. My mood dipped further as I realised my last exam was on that Friday too.

“I’m sure Candy will organise something,” Bridget said with a giggle, “Tell her she needs to call Coop to organise the pick up of your present.”

My mood fell further. It sounded as if Cooper hadn’t managed to get time off to visit. I made myself perk up. He was probably saving his holidays to spend Christmas in Darwin with the family and meet our niece.

“Okay,” I murmured.

“Anyway,” she powered on a little nervously, “How’s Dylan doing? I showed all my sisters the pictures you sent. They’re so jealous I have a cute little niece!”

I started. Niece? Were Bridget and Cooper getting serious? They’d been together three years, but Bridge was only just twenty.

“Oh,” I stalled as I recollected myself, “She’s beautiful. I’ve only seen her once more though…Logan and Ivy have gone to visit Mum.”

“What’s Ivy like?” Bridge asked conspiratorially – making me flush happily. I only had two sisters – both of whom lived away and could be a little self-involved. With so many brothers, it was nice to have another female to relate to – to share all these giggly feminine matters over. It was something I didn’t have much practice at, but Briar and Candy had been a big help.

“She seems nice,” I volunteered warily, “Maybe a little serious though.”

“Logan’s completely gone on her,” I whispered with a giggle, “It’s so cute.”

Bridget’s warm, wild laugh made me grin, but there was suddenly a long, uncomfortable pause.

She cleared her throat and I sat up a little straighter, unnerved by how nervous Bridget seemed.

“So,” she started casually, “I know you and Coop are pretty close…”

“We are,” I agreed slowly, “Though not as close as him and Charlie obviously.”

“Hmmm,” she said noncommittally, “He did tell Charlie in advance…but I wanted to be the one to tell you. I don’t see you as often as Charlie, and I know your opinion and happiness is really important to Coop…so I just wanted your approval.”

“Approval for what?” I asked, puzzled.

“Cooper and I are getting married.”

There was a beat of silence as I processed the information. I didn’t know how to react. None of my siblings had been engaged before. Now it seemed I was being presented with two sister-in-laws at once. I’d never even pictured my brothers getting married. Wow. We were all grown up now.

A wedding…I smiled as excitement coursed through me.

“That’s awesome!” I squealed.

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Bridget breathed with a laugh, “I need to have one ally. Your family is even more intimidating than mine.”

“Wow,” I said softly, suddenly wondering about the bridal party, “How many bridesmaids are you going to have?”

Bridget had four younger sisters. She groaned, “We haven’t sorted that out yet. With all your brothers and sisters…and my sisters and brother…plus our close friends…”

“Then don’t have any,” I suggested sensibly.

Bridget choked. “Are you crazy? Have you met my sisters? They’d knife me if I didn’t make them bridesmaids!”

I giggled. I had met one or two of her sisters…the Baker girls were…unique individuals…and you sure as hell didn’t want to piss them off.

“Can I-” I paused shyly and hesitated a moment, before barrelling on, “Can I be your photographer for the wedding?”

Bridget paused and I felt my heart sink.

“That would be great,” she said slowly, “But it won’t work if you’re a bridesmaid.”

I blinked. “What?”

Bridget sighed, “I’m thinking we’re going to have to just include everyone.”

I spluttered. “But that’s…holy crap.”

“I know.”

I glanced at the time on my stereo and winced. “Um, Bridge, I have to go to bed now.”

“Me too, I suppose,” she replied easily, “I’m glad you’re okay with everything…but, um, we haven’t told anyone else about the engagement yet so…”

“Understood,” I said quickly, then smiled, “But Zane will already know.”

She laughed. “That’s what Coop said. Night.”

“Bye Bridge.”

Feeling much better, I slid between my sheets and closed my eyes, more than ready for a good night’s sleep.

But as I lay there, the room felt huge and dark…and lonely. I snuggled the doona tightly around me, trying to stay warm in the air-conditioned room. I hugged a pillow to my chest – made a wall of pillows – but it was no use. They were soft and cool…and I wanted my hot, hard Stone.

***

I glared out the window the next morning, cursing how overcast it was, even if it did fit my mood. The dark grey clouds darkened the sky and yanked up the humidity, making sweat drip down my forehead and arms. Yuck. It was the end of November and summer was well and truly here already. I breathed a sigh as I imagined how much worse it would be when I returned to Darwin – humidity and heat central. At least here in Alice we were out of the tropics and close to the dry desert.

I jostled my camera in my hands, knowing that I needed to pull off the recent pictures I’d taken –both on the card and on the film – but my eyes drifted down from the sky, automatically coming to rest on Stone’s table. My breath caught. He was there.

He wasn’t sitting on the table today. Instead, he was sitting against the thick tree beside it, wearing only a loose pair of running shorts as he balanced an acoustic guitar in his lap and scribbled in a notebook. The overcast sky above him made the artificial lawn beneath him look impossibly greener. His skin looked more olive and sallow than tanned as it stretched over rippling muscles – his body ripe with tension as his eyes closed in concentration and he began to strum some notes. The air was still, not rustling a single leaf on the stout tree behind him.

It was an expressive, intriguing picture, so I focused my lens and clicked – the flash going off just as his troubled silver eyes looked straight up at me, his expression tight and reserved.

Busted.

I smiled nervously and waved, slamming down my window quickly and drawing my curtains. I turned the air-conditioner back on and flopped face-first down on my bed.

Get a grip Evelyn, I chided myself, reluctantly sliding an arm beneath the bed and pulling out my assignment folder. Photographs of Stone spilled out over the floor, driving my heart rate up to dangerous levels. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at these. I took a deep, fortifying breath and eased myself down to the floor. I lined them up chronologically, smiling sadly at some of the happier memories. I pushed aside some of the photos that didn’t fit the assignment and concentrated on the ones I’d taken secretly, comparing them to the style and theme of Billy’s Voyeur.

I sighed. As much as I loved the contrasts in colour and what they did to the feel of the pictures…Billy’s had been done in black and white…on film too. The photos of Stone looked more dramatic in black and white, so that cinched the deal. I paused as I glanced at my favourite picture from the Voyeur catalogue. The woman was looking right at the photographer…catching him in the act. Billy had placed it at the end of his work…and I felt the irresistible urge to do the same…with the photo I’d just taken.

I wasn’t going to develop it in black and white though…it wouldn’t do the picture justice. No. It needed to be in colour. The last picture in my piece was going to be eye catching, expressive and startling. I considered going into fancy techniques and digitally editing all my pictures…but decided that was changing the feel of the assignment way too much. Voyeur was raw and edgy…and completely unedited. I needed to do the same with mine.

My gaze went back to the multiple pictures already printed and ready to go. I couldn’t restrain my emotions as my eyes hungrily ate up every inch of Stone’s form. There he was wearing his aviators and ass-cupping jeans…There he was without a shirt…There he was with that small half smile…There, a rare picture of his laugh, when he thought no one was looking. I winced at a reminder of his fight with Jack, as I held up the picture I’d taken in the bathroom. I moaned softly as my eyes left his battered face and took in the strong muscles of his back and broad shoulders.

I marvelled at the concentration on his face whenever he played an instrument, I softened at the way he visibly relaxed around Briar and the others, I shivered at the leashed power in his movements as he worked out in the gym. I sighed regretfully as I looked down at him sleeping in my bed, his big feet poking off the end and his face relaxed – almost vulnerable.

I closed my eyes, hoping to escape the feelings – hoping to drive back the realisation that was crawling to the front of my mind with determination.

Memories stirred instead. Stone kissing me hot and desperate, Stone entering me strong but careful, Stone’s powerful arms holding me tight, his hands spreading possessively over my skin, his mouth making me scream…

Grant sliding the necklace around my throat and brushing his lips against the base of my neck.

I swallowed, my hands sliding up to trace the chain, my fingers shaking.

I’m completely in love with Grant Stone.

I groaned and tugged hard at my hair. Great job, Evelyn. You should have known you couldn’t pull off casual sex.

I’d gone and fallen in love with him…and our relationship was doomed. Even if I hadn’t run scared and pushed him away…we’d never have worked.

With a sigh, I headed to a dark room to develop the last lot of pictures on my film.

It was time to finish my assignment once and for all.

***

I worked all weekend, trying to ignore my emotions as I pieced together my assignment and wrote the accompanying ‘artist notes’. It was impossible though. There was no way I could separate my emotions from the work…when they were a part of the actual subject. Each photograph triggered a response, making my mood fluctuate repeatedly.

By Monday night, I finally had a finished piece. I flicked through the pages, feeling my throat close over and tears roll down my cheeks. It would be hard to hand this in – but I’d get it back. That would be even harder – keeping this reminder of Stone with me. It was bad enough he was here for another year…but these photos could last more than a lifetime.

I slid the criteria sheet into a sleave at the front of my assignment, but paused when I came to the release forms. My eyes closed with dread. I’d forgotten.

I needed Stone to agree. I needed his approval to use photographs of him.

Aw hell…

I grabbed my purse and my assignment, jogging out into the hall and down the stairs to the small shop in our building. I bought a jumbo packet of Smarties, filled with smaller boxes, and walked quickly up to Stone’s room, eager to get in and out while he was down at dinner.

I slipped inside – glad Stone was confident enough to leave his room unlocked – and placed the assignment gingerly on his bed, tossing the Smarties down beside it. I rifled through his desk draw for a sticky note pad and pen, and scribbled him a message, before sticking it to the front of my assignment:

Grant,

I hope you don’t mind that I chose you…

I need you to sign the release form. It’s due Wednesday.

- E.V.

P.S. Please cut down on the smokes and I’m sorry for throwing the Skittles at you.

I paused a moment to inhale the scent of him and wrap it around me like a blanket…before hurrying back to my room, where I grabbed a textbook and buried myself in study.

Thirty-Eight

I didn’t sleep that night. I anxiously waited for Stone to barge in and demand an explanation. Would he be flattered? Angry? Confused? Would he sign the damn form? I studied into the wee hours of the next morning, fully dressed and with the light on. I finally gave up just before dawn and went for a run, grabbing some breakfast on the way back to my room.

All day I tried to study – my eyes drooping from lack of sleep and my nerves on edge as I jumped at every small sound – still expecting Stone to barge in at any minute. He didn’t.