IZZY TOUCHED HER HAND to her car door just as Richard Crawley strode into the private parking lot of her apartment building.
He raised his hand in greeting.
She returned his wave, surprised and curious. She was pretty certain she hadn’t told him where she lived. What was he doing here?
Once he reached her, he leaned against the side of her car, his posture relaxed and easy...a man used to doing what he wanted, when he wanted. “Hi.”
Izzy slid her sunglasses atop her head. “This is a surprise. I thought you planned to spend the day working on your upcoming show.”
“I worked on it for most of last night, so I thought I’d come and find you this morning.”
“I see.” She looked toward the security booth at the entrance of the gated apartments. “And I guess Mitch was so bowled over by your celebrity status that he let you walk in here without calling up to my apartment for my say so first?”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
She lifted an eyebrow, insistent on an explanation to ease her wariness. Celebrity or no celebrity, obnoxiousness annoyed her.
He laughed. “What? I merely told him you were expecting me and then when we saw you by your car, he clearly couldn’t see a problem with me meeting you outside. I’m sure if I wanted access to your apartment, he would have called you first.” His smile faltered. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Izzy fought her distrust. “You haven’t made me uncomfortable, but I do wonder how you got my address.”
“I asked someone in town.”
“Who?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Does it matter? Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to upset you.”
“Forget it.” She jangled her keys. “I need to get going. I’m going across town to see someone about the new gallery opening there in the New Year. The owner might be interested in exhibiting my work.”
“Of course he is. He’d be mad not to.” His gaze roamed over her hair and face. “I’ve followed your work for a while. It’s fantastic. Truly.”
“You’ve seen my latest shots on the website?”
“Yes and I love the change in outlook, colors and perception compared to your previous work.”
Trent’s reaction to her darker pictures seeped into her mind. It couldn’t have been more different than Richard’s, and she had no idea how she felt about that. Good or bad, the pictures reflected her sadness. “Well, thank you, but lately my work has taken a more...darker edge. I’m not sure what the gallery owner’s take will be on them, but it has to be worth a shot.”
He tilted his head toward the portfolio she had clutched to her chest. “Are these new pictures? Ones that aren’t on your website?”
“Yes, I’m still not sure—”
“May I?”
Insecurity threatened her earlier confidence that Trent was wrong and her images were different, yes, but they held a certain depth and sorrow she hoped would appeal and be understood by the hundreds of people who’d lost loved ones.
What if Richard, TV host extraordinaire, seemingly unerring optimist, saw the images up close and agreed with what Trent’s tone had implied, that they were depressing, morose and self-pitying?
Of course, Trent hadn’t actually said those words, but still...
Drawing in a breath, Izzy pulled the portfolio from under her arm and carried it to the hood of her car. She opened it and Richard came close to her side. Close enough for her to inhale the fresh scent of soap and lime. She stepped back, her unease returning. From his body language, he acted as though they were dating. Which they weren’t and never would be.
He leaned over the portfolio and slowly turned the pages, studying each image for a few excruciating seconds before moving on to the next.
Izzy embraced the nerves that swooped and dove in her stomach; savoring the courage it had taken to show, through her art, the internal storm she now battled daily. She wasn’t ashamed to show the world Robbie’s death had changed her into a sadder, lonelier, more cautious person even if others, Kate and Trent for instance, refused to believe it to be true.
“These are...” Richard shook his head and flipped back a few pages to restudy some of the images. “Amazing. Extraordinary, in fact.”
“You really think so?” Izzy released her held breath as the relief of his approval washed through her. “I really hope Jay Garrett is as impressed as you seem to be.”
“That’s who owns the gallery?”
“Yes.”
“I remember the family. They were pretty well off as I remember.” He straightened and looked deep into her eyes. “Jay’s the son?”
She nodded.
“Well, if he’s anything like I remember his father to be, Jay’s no fool. I’m sure he’ll love them.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You know if Jay says no and you start to believe your work should be exhibited on a much larger scale than what Templeton has to offer...”
“Yes?”
He turned back to the portfolio, turned the pages back and forth again, his eyes narrowed. After a few moments, he closed the book and faced her, his dark brown eyes somber. “I’d really love to invest in you...in your career.”
Izzy frowned. “How?”
“I spend my money wisely, Izzy. I’m ashamed to say your earlier skepticism about mine and Francis’s attitudes at the agency was warranted. As soon as I knew you were shooting this calendar for Maya, I saw it as a fated opportunity to meet you.”
She stepped back and folded her arms. “Because?”
“Because I part-own a gallery in the city. I’d really like to arrange an exhibition for you there. I loved your previous work and love this new work even more.” He gently touched her elbow. “If you’d allow it, we could showcase your pictures in a kind of timeline, before and after bereavement.”
She did want her work to be seen, but... “That would be using Robbie’s death in a way that’s wrong. Exploitation of my personal tragedy isn’t something I can even begin to contemplate. My brother was—”
“Everything to you. I get that and so will the hundreds of people who see your pictures. I promise you. Everything you’re going through will be truly understood.”
Wasn’t this the reaction, the realization, she’d secretly wanted from Trent the moment she invited him into her studio to see the images? Instead, he’d been disappointed, had wanted the old her back. A woman who had gone forever. She’d hidden her hurt that Trent didn’t understand what she was trying to say through her work under a laugh.
She hadn’t the courage to tell him how her work gave her an outlet she couldn’t find through conversation. No matter with whom she might be speaking.
Richard cleared his throat. “Of course, for the exhibition to truly be a success, it would mean you leaving Templeton. At least, for a while. Do you have any commitments here that would stop that from happening?”
“Well, no. Not really.” She swallowed as trepidation about moving away from the safety of the Cove and the people here threatened her inner ambition. “I’m very busy, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t be able to postpone with some prior warning. But—”
“I know the Cove means a lot to you, but I’m giving you a way out that will benefit your career enormously.” He eased her arms from her chest and squeezed her hands, his gaze kind and considerate. “Francis would be more than happy to represent you, I’m sure. You’d be agented. Who knows what doors that could open for you? Plus, there will be promotion, TV and radio appearances and that’s before the exhibition. After? Who knows what could happen for you?”
Suspicion squirmed inside and Izzy eased her hands from his. “You seem to have given this a lot of thought.”
He hesitated and then lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have. Probably too much, but I mean every word. I’d love to really launch your career, Izzy.”
“But why? What’s in it for you?”
“I don’t know. At least not yet.”
“That makes no sense.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re making me very uneasy, Richard. You weren’t asked here to start a business relationship with me. You’re here for Maya Jackson and Maya Jackson only. Templeton’s my home. I have friends, fam...” Trent. “It’s where I belong.”
A flicker of irritation flashed in his eyes before he glanced at her portfolio. “Is it? These pictures tell a different story. I might be wrong, but I don’t think you’re happy here. Not anymore.” He picked up the portfolio and handed it to her, his determined gaze boring into hers. “Maybe it’s time for you to grow your career. Work on the ambition I see burning through every single thing you capture with so much verve and passion.” His gaze softened. “It’s your call. No pressure. Just promise me you’ll think about what I’m offering.”
She nodded, trepidation knotting her stomach. “I will, but I still intend to meet with Jay. I’m sure you’ll agree it makes sense that I explore all my options.”
“Of course. Your consideration is all I ask.”
Confusion mixed with a fire for more in her life than grief, for more than the endless memories of Robbie and their times together in Templeton Cove. Wouldn’t she be holding those possibilities back if she stayed here?
Richard moved to walk away and Izzy turned. “Richard?”
He faced her. “Yes?”
“Why did you come to see me this morning? It couldn’t have been to talk to me about my work or you would’ve mentioned it over dinner the other night.”
“I intended to, but the moment passed by unnoticed because I was having such a good time not talking business with you. However, today, I came to see you for just that reason. You’re extremely talented and I’d love the opportunity to do anything I can to get your work seen by the right people. Truly. I’ll see you soon.”
He walked away and Izzy stared after him as he passed the security booth, waving to Mitch before continuing out onto the street.
Izzy slid her portfolio and purse onto the passenger seat of her car, shut the door and rounded the hood to the driver’s side. She got into the car and gripped her keys.
In the last two days, two galleries had approached her to showcase her work. It should’ve been a dream come true, yet in reality, it was more of a life-affecting decision than the potential for career advancement.
She suddenly felt so unsure about something she had wanted since she was a teenager.
She started the car and as she drove across town, her mind raced. The gallery in Templeton had been Trent’s idea, which meant he believed in her work...but did he only believe in her old work? The old her?
One way or another, she had a decision to make. She either stayed in Templeton and worked with Jay Garrett, with Robbie’s memory haunting her at every turn—or she moved to the city and started over. Who knew what a complete change of scenery might bring? Maybe she’d find peace and happiness where nobody expected her to be anyone but the woman she’d become.
Someone whose heart was harder and more afraid of life and living than she’d ever been before.
* * *
TRENT LIFTED HIS beer and drank, his gaze trained on the door of the Coast Inn. The bar was typically English with one difference—everyone knew everyone in Templeton and that made the Coast as welcoming as a close friend’s living room. Tonight, however, Trent was not relaxed and he wasn’t comfortable.
Even though Izzy had asked for this date, or whatever the hell it was, he still sensed he’d hurt her when he admitted to disliking her new pictures. She wasn’t a good enough actress to hide the disappointment that had flashed in her eyes. Disappointment he’d put there, and his regret lay like a lump of lead in his gut.
He’d reacted the way he had because he hated what the shots represented. They were artistic, beautiful even, but Izzy’s deep sorrow was also caught in every pixel.
Trent took another drink and gripped the glass as he placed it on the table. His job had been his refuge after Aimee died and ever since. He had no right to assume Izzy’s darker projects wouldn’t be hers.
He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t show tonight.
Her choice of the Coast as a venue was safety personified. He would’ve loved to take her to the Oceanside, the Cove’s far superior and up-market restaurant across town, but he sensed Izzy had chosen the bar for a reason.
The meeting place and early-evening time of seven made it clear tonight was a casual thing. Nothing romantic could be anchored to it. It was a tester...maybe even a make or break between them.
Rare nerves tumbled in Trent’s gut as he looked around. With dark paneling and ocean-type paraphernalia pinned and screwed to the walls, the place was decorated like the interior of a ship. Dark and light places were available for patrons to choose as they would. Which was why he’d chosen a corner table, away from the huge plasma TV and kids’ video games through an archway at the back. Whatever was said tonight, he wanted to make sure he and Izzy could hear what they said to each other.
It was Friday night and the place was already filling up.
The doors swung open for a third time. No Izzy.
He’d give her the benefit of the doubt...for approximately ten more minutes. Trent scowled. Who was he kidding? He’d wait another hour if need be.
He pulled his phone from his shirt pocket. No missed calls. No texts. He scrolled through his Facebook page and resisted the temptation to tell the world he was waiting for Izzy Cooper for what he hoped would be their first official date in months. The pride that hope brought rose in his chest.
Then again, if she stood him up...
Cursing, he shut off his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. He glanced toward the bar—and froze. That denim-covered butt could only belong to one woman.
He ran his gaze over every part of her, from the cute flats on her feet to the skinny black jeans worn with a pale peach shirt. He inhaled. She’d left her blanket of thick blond hair loose to cover her back. He’d never forget how good it felt to have her tresses lie across his chest as she slept...
She picked up the glass of red wine she’d ordered and turned. Her brow furrowed as she scanned the packed bar.
He swallowed against the longing that pulled at his chest and stood. He raised his hand. “Iz. Over here.”
She turned and her face immediately broke with a wide smile. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Relief rippled through him and he took her hand, tugging her gently forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. “It’s fine. Hope a table by the window is okay?”
“It’s great.”
He helped her onto the high stool and she immediately eased her hand from his. “Thanks.”
Disappointment tugged at him. She clearly wanted to maintain space between them. She put her purse on the table and took a sip of her drink, her gaze turned toward the window. “It’s a gorgeous evening. The sunset makes Templeton look prettier than ever.”
Her whimsical tone alerted Trent that something bothered her. “What’s wrong? Did something happen today?”
She turned, her blue eyes instantly shadowing. “Kind of. Yes.”
He raised his eyebrow in question.
She took another sip of her wine and slowly replaced it on the table before exhaling. “Richard Crawley came by my apartment.”
Annoyance prickled along Trent’s spine, but he fought to keep his expression impassive. “And?”
“He caught me in the parking lot just as I was on my way to the new gallery you told me about.”
“You spoke to Marian?”
“Better. I spoke with Jay Garrett.”
He smiled. “Straight to the source, eh?” When she didn’t return his smile, Trent frowned. “So, what does Garrett’s gallery have to do with Crawley?”
“He’s a partial investor in another gallery in the city.”
Unease whispered through Trent’s gut.
“And he said if Jay wasn’t interested in exhibiting my work, he would be.” She sighed, picking up her glass. “Which means I would move away from the Cove. At least for a while.”
“Surely you wouldn’t consider—”
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t say no.” She met his gaze over the rim of her glass, took another sip. “And I still haven’t, even though Jay didn’t exactly show me the door.”
“He’s interested in your work?”
“Yes.”
Relief should’ve loosened some of the tension from his shoulders, but all Trent could think about was that Izzy still considered Crawley’s interest. After all this time, would it be her work that prevented any chance of them being together, rather than his?
He forced a smile and clasped her hand where it lay on the table. “So you have two galleries wanting your work. That’s great.”
She stared into the depths of her glass and he frowned. “Isn’t it?”
When she lifted her head, her eyes were shadowed with concern. “I don’t know.”
“This has always been the dream, right?”
She slid her hand from his and twirled the stem of her glass. “Of course. And to have my work shown in the city is bound to be better than it being shown here in a town as small as the Cove. Plus, I can’t help thinking it would do me good to get out of Templeton and leave everything that hurts so much behind. Moving to the city could be just what I need.”
Trent took a long slug of his drink, his mind whirling with what to say and do as a horrible sense of loss inched into his stomach.
She stared at him. “What are you thinking?”
He took a deep breath. He could never lie to her. “I’m thinking I’ve haven’t considered your work as something that might come between us working things out.”
Her gaze held his. “Yet your work is a huge obstacle for me.”
Trent closed briefly closed his eyes before opening them again. “Right.”
“I’m not being obtuse, Trent. I’m telling the truth. Your work and the way Robbie died...they’re too closely connected and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get past that. Don’t you want me to do whatever makes me happy? A move away from here, from Robbie, could be it.”
“I’d never stand in your way.” He took a drink. He couldn’t. If he did, what sort of man would that make him? What sort of friend?
“So you think I should go to the city? You agree that’s where I’m the most likely to get my work recognized?”
He put his pint on the table and licked the froth from his upper lip. It was no good. He had to be honest with her. Had to be honest with what was in his heart. “I didn’t say that either.”
“So what are you saying?” Her cheeks flushed as her gaze searched his. “I feel so torn. I always thought I knew exactly what to do with my career. Yet here I am without any clue what to do. What if the city is the opportunity of a lifetime?”
“What if I’m your opportunity of a lifetime?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I mean...” He looked at her. “Oh, Christ. Look...” He took her hand again. “I want you. You know that, but I can’t offer you an exhibition. I don’t have the money or the connections Jay and Crawley have, but what I do have is me. Someone who knows and cares about you. I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay right here where I can see you every day. But if you want to leave...” He looked deep into her eyes. “I’m the last person who will try to stop you.”
Every part of him wanted to get up, stand in front of her and kiss her—hard. So she could feel just how strongly he felt. So there could be no doubt in her mind that his feelings for her were unlikely to ever lessen or abate. Four years he’d wanted her. Four years...
He dragged his gaze from her lips and plucked two menus from the holder beside him. “Let’s talk about something else. I wanted you to have a good time tonight, and this feels the opposite.” She took the menu he offered her and Trent perused his, his heart beating hard. “What are you having?”
When her answer didn’t come, Trent looked up.
She stared, her gaze determined and her shoulders straight. “You can’t save me, Trent.”
Trent stilled. “What?”
“Robbie died and then you told me about Aimee. You can’t save everybody, and if that’s what you’re trying to do for me, then that’s more reason than ever for me to get away from here.”
He shook his head and looked at the menu. The passion swirling in his blood pulsed with insult. Was he trying to save her? Was that what his frustration was really about? No. It couldn’t be. He wanted to be with her. Period. As partners. Best friends. Lovers. “I’m not trying to save you.”
“No? Then what are you doing?”
He met her steady gaze. “Trying to make you mine and me yours.”
She stared at him for a long moment before her eyes softened. “Trent, please try to understand. I can’t spend every day wondering if today is the day I lose you. I have no one who needs anything from me. I’m free to do and go where I want, and maybe that’s exactly what I should be doing instead of keeping all this anger and sadness pent up inside. My pictures could be a hit in the city. I could make more money than I’ve ever dreamed of.”
“And you think money will make you happy. It never made anyone happy. You know that.”
She put down her menu and looked past him toward the bar, her face unreadable, her eyes turned away from him.
He studied her beautiful profile. “I’d never hurt you, Iz. I know you don’t need me protecting you or caring for you, but Robbie...”
“Would’ve wanted you to.” She met his gaze, tears glinting in her eyes. “And maybe part of me wants that too, but I’m scared, Trent. Really, really scared.”
He laced his fingers with hers. “And you think I’m not? I told you about Aimee to make you understand you’re not alone in this and life goes on. Aimee died fourteen years ago, but I still think about her every day. She was twelve years old, I was seventeen and was meant to be looking after her but was too interested in chatting with the girl down the street to worry about what Aimee was up to in the house. The fire...” He inhaled a shaky breath. “It happened so fast, and by the time I ran back to get her out of there, flames roared from the upstairs window. I tried so hard to get to her, but the neighbors...they were pulling me back, calling 999.”
She squeezed his fingers, a tear slipping over her cheek. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was and that’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life.” Regret, sorrow and anguish twisted his heart and he took a breath, praying she heard him. “You’ll think about Robbie every day too, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living. I want to make you happy. I want you to trust me, but if going to the city is what you think will work for you, then you should go. I just didn’t want you to go not knowing how I feel about you.”
She drew her hand from his and as she picked up her glass, the wine trembled. “I’ll always trust you to take care of me. It’s not that which makes this so hard. It’s me I don’t trust. I don’t trust that I could handle losing another person. People die and people are born, and if we get into this, I have a feeling it could be something special.” She took a sip of her wine. “I couldn’t bear losing you. I couldn’t bear losing Kate. You’re all I have left. Us being together, me staying in the Cove could be a very bad decision.”
“Iz—”
“If I stay here, if I try the gallery in Templeton, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep denying my feelings for you run deeper than friendship.” Another tear rolled over her cheek. “But I can’t stop the fear that, eventually, I’ll lose you too.”
Admiration and hope surged through him that she’d showed her utter vulnerability for the first time in months. This was the Izzy he’d be drawn to years ago. This was the Izzy who was soft, caring and loving, yet stronger than anyone he knew. He thought that person had gone along with Robbie, but deep down Izzy...his Izzy...was still there, struggling to find a way out.
Trent pushed to his feet and closed the space between them. With his heart pounding with the weight of her possible rejection, he looked into her eyes, slid his hands over her shoulders and moved in close.
Her beautiful eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to kiss you.”
Even as her gaze darted around the bar, her tongue poked out to wet her bottom lip as though anticipating what came next. That was all the permission he needed.
He slid one hand to the back of her neck, under her perfect mane of silky hair, and drew her closer. With his other hand rested on her thigh, he gave a final perusal of her exquisite face before lowering his mouth to hers. Once again, her sweet taste astounded him and made him yearn for more. The electricity between them was dangerous. Hot enough to burn and powerful enough to last a lifetime.
She was rigid for a few seconds before she turned pliant, her soft moan into his mouth sexy and inviting. Whether it was the months he’d been forced to watch her grieve from afar, he had no idea, but never before had he felt so connected to anyone.
He touched her face as he kissed her, making a silent pact that if she allowed him, he’d look after her for the rest of his life.
He touched his tongue to hers and kissed her deeper, resisting the urge to pull her closer, knowing she was conscious of the people around them. The background music continued to pump from the speakers, but the patrons’ voices seemed to have quieted, and all Trent was aware of was the sound of her supersexy exhalations and her tight grip on his biceps.
Slowly, she pulled back. Her cheeks pink and her eyes happy. “Well, there you go, then.”
He grinned. “Yep, there you go.”
She coughed and picked up a menu. “I need a burger, fries and a side order of garlic bread.” She lifted her gaze to his and smiled. “I’m starving, and if you kiss me like that again, I’m going to forget to eat.”
He laughed and slid back onto his seat. “Well, we don’t want that, do we?”