Eve: Drink Of Me (F&L Story #2)

Eve: Part 15

Part 15

May 24, 2010.  Tuesday.  6:50 p.m.

Something changed in Clint, and Eve couldn't pinpoint it.  It seemed as though at one moment he was his usual distant, brooding self, and then snap!  He began doting on her, loving on her with tenderness that she had trouble comprehending.  And Eve’s natural defenses reared their ugly heads. 

After the haunted tour, which Eve only shook her head at, he drove her back through Eureka Springs to the shops below the hilltop hotel and guided her into the little lingerie boutique she became enamored with earlier.  Eve was fascinated with the variety of items in the store, from modest and feminine to sexy and dangerous.  She protested when he stopped outside, but he only dragged her to the rack of girly pajamas that she’d admired and said, “Choose.”

“What?”

Clint waved his hand at the swirling colors of silky camisoles and flowing lounge pants, and repeated, “Choose.  I want to buy you something.”

No, she screamed in her head, though her heart was shouting yes, yes, yes! in a louder vote.  She didn’t want him to buy her anything…at all.  The sweet gesture was too much like what couples would do for each other.  They weren’t a “couple.”  They weren’t anything.  She was Eve, and he was Clint, and they were only together.

Eve vehemently shook her head, her hair flying around her strong denial.  “No, I don’t want you to.”

He peered at her, smiling his slow, sexy smile, and nodded just as fervently.  “Yes.  Choose, Eve, or I will, and you might not like what I pick out.”

Sensing a challenge, she glared at him and asked, “And what would you pick out?”  He glanced around the shop, his gaze landing on a lace nightgown that covered a mannequin’s body from neck to toe, long sleeves and all.  Eve gasped when she saw it.  That disgusting thing would hide all her good parts.  He arched an eyebrow at her.

“No?” he asked, running his fingers over the thick, scratchy fabric.  “Then how about…”  He walked over to a basket that held a lump of chains.  When he lifted a strand in his fingers, she realized that the cold metal was linked together with strips of leather, creating a torturous contraption that she had to really think about how it could possibly be worn.  That thing wouldn’t cover anything at all.

“You can’t be serious,” she huffed at him and insisted, “I won’t wear it,” so he returned to the pajama sets she loved and unhooked one of the hangers from the rack. 

“Then, do you prefer the pink or…no, the purple.  You get the purple one.”  He headed towards the checkout counter.

Eve schooled her face with her displeasure.  However, the purple silk pj’s had been the one thing in the store that caught her eye from the beginning.  She could imagine the smooth fabric sliding over her skin while she slept, and the shade of lilac was her utmost favorite.  She trailed slowly after him, wondering where the change came from.

She didn’t say something he misunderstood, did she?  She’d been careful not to do anything that would make him uncomfortable about sharing his secret with her last night.  And boy, was she glad he did!  She didn’t know how much longer she could have kept her mouth shut, but she wanted him to tell her about his problem.  She didn’t want to be the first to bring it up, and be that woman.  But, then again, she didn’t want to care so much about him that he was comfortable enough with her to expose himself that way. 

And he had.  He bluntly told her he was an alcoholic.  Funny, she mused now after the fact, that he didn’t say he was a recovering alcoholic.  He truly didn’t believe that he could stay sober.  What was it that drove him to yearn for the numbing sensation of being drunk?  Life held so many wonderful things.  So many thrilling sensations, good and bad, that she really didn’t understand the need to dull her mind away from it all.