Charlie grabbed one more apple and made her way down the produce aisle at the grocery store. She had far too much on her mind to work that day. Her latest graphics project had stalled. Her usual creative genius eluded her. The project would usually “tell” her what it wanted to be, but nothing special came to mind this time. Not since last week when she saw Blake at the bar.
Then seeing him the night before at his grandmother’s house. He was so devilishly handsome. Emphasis on devil because truly, he was rude to her. What the frick was his deal?
Eight years ago when Den sent him pictures of the two of them naked, she knew. It would not be an easy mountain to conquer. In some respects, Blake had a fragile ego. At the time, Charlie was convinced the truth would win out. Blake would see what Den was up to and dismiss it. She practically begged him to see the truth.
Well, it turned out, even after so much time had passed, it still didn’t matter to Blake.
Dammit! She needed to snap out of it. The pain of seeing him, being rejected by him, being mistreated by him, still felt raw. And frankly, distracting. The emotion got in the way of work and creating a beautiful project her customers had come to expect.
Why should I even give a flip?
The past was long gone. She had moved on. Dated a few super nice men—nothing earth-shattering—but decent men nonetheless. She knew Mr. Right was out there somewhere.
Suddenly, loading the bags of groceries in her trunk, a plastic bag gave way and spilled the contents all over the pavement.
Damn! See, distracted. Remembering my canvas bags could have prevented this!
As she crawled after her minestrone soup, a hand reached down and grabbed it. She froze and looked up. Her eyes needed a moment to adjust to the sunshine, but when they did, she could see who it was. She gasped.
“Blake, what are you doing here?”
“You look like you could use a hand,” he said as the squatted down to pick up her black beans and hot sauce.
He stood and laid them in her trunk. Why was he helping her?
She rose and looked at him, not able to formulate words.
“Is that everything?” he asked as his eyes combed the area.
“Yes, but you didn’t have to do that.” She furrowed her brows still wrapping her brain around why he was being so . . . nice.
“I saw you were having trouble when I came out of Bradley’s.” He motioned with his head.
The shopping area shared a common parking lot, so that explained why she ran into him.
Still rooted in place, he lifted the few grocery items from her arms, placed them in her trunk, and shut the lid.
Say something! “How’s your grandmother?”
Softened eyes looked back at her.
“She’s good. I gotta watch that she doesn’t get too tired, but otherwise, she’s doing well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Charlie, I want to apologize for my behavior recently. It was inexcusable.”
She adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder and felt the crawl of hot blood over her face.
“I’m not going to argue with you there,” she said in an even tone. “In fact, I would choose several other more poignant words to describe your behavior.”
His eyes appeared suddenly aflame. He moved into her personal space and pointed at her, just as he’d done the night before.
“What do you want?” he barked.
The air around them charged. His stare shot daggers at her. She didn’t budge an inch—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction—just glared at him. Her heartrate skyrocketed, and she licked her suddenly dry lips. His eyes glanced down at her lips, then back into her eyes.
The words formulated in her head to scold him like the spoiled, little brat he was when his eyes and his body noticeably relaxed.
“Again, I apologize.” Then without warning, he turned on a heel and walked toward his SUV.
She moved only her head and, wide-eyed, watched him drive away.
“Well, that was unexpected,” she whispered.
She inhaled, slowed her stunned breathing, and sank into the driver’s seat of her car. She brushed her palms down her jeans. Charlie had to admit that little interaction was exhilarating, and left her nipples tingling. Her tummy fluttered.
Oh, don’t go there, she told herself.
Thoughts of passionate moments with Blake could send her in a tizzy. Standing close to him like that aroused her. Even though he was angry at first, her body didn’t seem to care one tiny bit.
Their track record for amazing sex was outrageous.
Prior to meeting Blake in college, Charlie had had two other lovers. Den, and the guy she lost her virginity to. Neither were exceptional. They’d each fumbled through the act, knowing nothing about how to really turn on a woman. And definitely not knowing how to bring her to orgasm.
Blake was made differently. He knew what to do and learned her body quickly, she always orgasmed when they made love. Even times when she was stressed and thought there was no way she could climax, Blake only saw it as a challenge. Man, did he rise to that challenge.
Her time with Blake was a blessing. As much as it tore her heart out to watch him leave, she was grateful for all they’d shared. All she learned. Because of him, she learned what love could be.
Reminiscing about the past was a waste of time, though. Even with his apology, she felt quite certain they had no chance of being friends.
She exhaled and stared into the distance. That’s a shame. Blake was always smart about technology, marketing, and climbing. She shook her head. Her lips curved into a smile, and she couldn’t stop it.
Driving up to her little home, happiness filled Charlie’s soul. She was still so enamored with her house. She bought it without her parents help three years prior. She found the little gem quite accidentally and fell in love with it. A covered front porch with a wooden door directly center. Flower beds flanked each side of the steps leading up to the porch. And a large oak tree graced the front yard. When she finally saw the inside, that did it for her. Hardwood floors, a large fireplace in the living room, a huge farmhouse sink in the kitchen, she could go on. It was perfect for her.
She unloaded her groceries and inspected the spilled cans for any damage. She would need to focus on her work now, her project. If she stalled anymore, she was liable to miss her deadline. And Charlie did just about anything to avoid that.
As she brought her PC alive, her thoughts wandered back to Blake. How could they not?
Really, he was all she could think about, it seemed, these last few days. Images flashed in her mind about times they’d shared together, things they’d done while they were dating. Including the intimate and passionate times.
Then the images of his face when he yelled at her over the whole Den incident brought any happy thoughts to a sudden halt. The utter, bone-deep pain written on his face when he thought she’d cheated on him still haunted her.
She had to stop herself, or else she’d start to cry. She fought for control. The emotion lingered under the surface. She would never forget the look in his eyes.
None of it was real. Den was an asshole. She might never forgive him. Because of Den, her life had been changed. Forever.
She pushed past the rising lump in her throat and opened up her latest project. Charlie was contracted to create some marketing collateral for a sporting goods retailer in the greater Denver area. She lived there all her life; this should be an easy task. She’d been on the lakes, climbed the mountains, and hiked this land since she was old enough to count.
She blew out a breath. The job was a major coup. When she got the call to meet with them, she nearly wet her pants. She could not screw this up.
She picked up the client’s file containing the materials they had given her so far. The retailer had provided her with an extensive product list, and, up until now, had been using only whatever marketing materials were offered by the manufacturers. Her project was to create a comprehensive branding identity to complement the TV spots they planned to run. Hm, it’s easy for a camera to capture the adventure of outdoor sports. What would her approach be to recreate it in print?
Her mind strayed to some of the outdoor activities she and Blake would do while at CSU. She flipped over to her electronic photo album and opened it. Before her, mini pics of her and Blake living life in Colorado’s great outdoors. Climbing, hiking, biking, and one where she had convinced him to have a picnic. She smiled at that one. He called it a compromise, that if he went on some girly picnic, she owed him. She’d made sure to pay him back that night.
She was a glutton for punishment. She scrolled through picture after picture, so many great shots, some rather intimate. And she could only smile, even through her watery eyes. She hung a while on a particular picture of Blake rocking climbing. It was taken from a reasonably close vantage. How did she get so close while they were rock climbing?
She scanned a few more photos when it hit her—they had stopped on a ledge of a mountain. They were close to the top, but she’d wanted to take a break. Blake had agreed to go to the next ledge and scope it out. What a brilliant move to take out her camera before Blake was out of range. The camera picked up the beads of sweat on his face, the flush in his cheeks, the flexed muscles of his arms. She’d captured a brilliant shot. The strength, power, and concentration became more evident the longer she stared.
The ideas began formulating in Charlie’s head. She shifted in her chair and sat straighter. She flipped through several more shots, maybe hundreds. Soon, she started tagging some of the best, a few in which one could almost feel the action, the sense of adventure.
Geez! There were some seriously good photos they’d taken.
She flipped back to her working document. She typed out a few headers: climbing, hiking, biking, boating. Then, cut a ton of text she’d already written. The focus had been on the products, on the features and benefits. That won’t sell jack squat.
Energy. Emotion. The Why. Those are the things that will sell sporting goods.
She copied and pasted a select few photos, and sized them just so.
Wow! This is really coming together.
Charlie worked straight through lunch and most of the afternoon. The ideas were flowing so fast, her fingers had a hard time keeping up. Finally, Mother Nature demanded she take a break.
She exhaled as she saved one last time and stepped back from her work of art.
She chuckled aloud. Insanely great.
She rummaged through her refrigerator for something to make for dinner. Not having lunch made her famished. She found some chicken strips she’d cut up and froze in fajita marinade. Chicken fajitas sounded good.
She stopped midway from cutting a bell pepper and shook her head. She was doing it again—thinking about Blake even when she wasn’t thinking about him. They used to make fajitas all the time in her college apartment. Most times, they could actually finish before he had her, naked, and writhing under his touch. Hmmmm.
One time she recalled, she’d been hand-washing the dishes when Blake came up behind her, flipped up her skirt, lowered her panties to her ankles, and had his wicked way with her. He moved slowly and sensuously, and wouldn’t let her stop what she was doing. Crazy man.
God, those were the best times of her life.
Stop it, she scolded herself.
She missed him. She’d been doing well, forgetting about him these last few years. But seeing him again brought it to the surface—fresh and new.
She wiped a tear that slid down her cheek with the back of her hand. Time moves on.