Levi's Blue: A Sexy Southern Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

lower my voice, too, leaning slightly toward her.  “You left before I could achieve my goal last night.”
    “You can’t really achieve goals like those when you’ve got another…companion.”
    Julianne.
    Damn. 
    “That wasn’t what you think. She’s an old friend. Just an old friend.”  And that’s true, even though Julianne has never tried to hide the fact that she wants it to be more.
    “Oh.”  I swear I hear relief in that one syllable.  Or maybe it’s just that I want her to be relieved.  “Well, you could always try your luck at lunch then.”
    Back to last night, when I’d asked her to lunch today.
    “I thought you had a previous engagement.”
    She laughs softly, a sound that I’m pretty sure could make a dead man hard if he listened to it a few times.  “So did I, but…”  She shrugs.  “Things change.”
    “I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”
    “You wouldn’t?  Then why are you here?” Her question is pointed, but her expression is playful. 
    She nailed me.  Saw right through me, even though she can’t see a thing.
    A high-pitched giggle divides my attention, and the girl to my left leans in and whispers in her baby doll voice, “Did you just get in trouble?”
    I wink and admit to her in a tone of exaggerated seriousness, “I think I just got busted.”
    She giggles again, and I reach over to tweak her adorable nose.
    “Alana,” Evie says, turning to address the child as well, “will you please explain to Levi how we paint?”
    Alana nods and turns to me, her cute little voice carrying clearly throughout the whole room.  “‘We paint what we feel with what we feel.  Fingers, toes, nose, or brushes.’  Darwin even paints with his teeth, ” she exclaims in awe. She uses the place where her hand should be to point to a boy at the back of the room.  He has no arms, his T-shirt sleeves dangling emptily down his sides, but he’s holding a paintbrush between his teeth, working it over the canvas with enviable finesse and a brooding intensity.
    Alana leans closer to me, her words hushed, “He already started. He never waits for Ms. Evie to get here.”
    Evie hasn’t stopped smiling.  “But that’s okay, isn’t it, Alana?”
    Alana nods, grinning enough to show her tiny, white teeth.
    “And if you want to paint like me, what do we do?” Evie asks.
    “You get blindfoldeeeddd,” Alana supplies with glee.
    “So, how would you like to paint today, Levi?  Would you like to be blindfolded?”
    I know she doesn’t mean it in a sexual way—or maybe she does —but part of me doesn’t seem to understand that.  A very specific part of me. 
    I shift in my seat.  “No, no blindfold.  I think I’d rather be able to watch you. You know, to learn and all . ”
    “But this is art therapy.  You need to feel the paint, not watch me.”
    “I don’t know if I can do that.” I don’t mean paint, although I’m about as artistic as an oak tree. I mean not watch her. I don’t think I can not watch her.
    “Sure you can. You just have to try.”
    “Can you help me do that?  Can you show me?”
    Her pause is long before she answers quietly, “Yes, I can show you.”  Her demeanor is softer now. Less playful.  Almost…sad. 
    She takes a single step back, one that seems to be an emotional step back as much as a physical one.
    I don’t know what I said to cause the change, but obviously I touched a nerve.  Or insinuated myself into a space she doesn’t allow people into.
    “Tell me what to do.” Not just about the painting, but to fix this. I feel like I stepped into a steaming pile of shit that I didn’t see and don’t know how to get out of.
    I didn’t come here to antagonize her. I came here because, for whatever reason, I wanted to see her.  More than I wanted to do or see anything else today.
    “Bring your things up to the front. We can work on my canvas. Together.”
    She turns and makes her way back through the easels with an ease and competence that