“Never heard of either of you,” Blake said happily, and thank God the food came.
After a few glasses of wine and awkwardness, Wendy tossed a wrench into the stillness and became the one who couldn’t stop talking. And Blake had thought Kevin was bad.
“Every time my picture is taken, I try to transcend what a woman is through my eyes.”
Blake gripped his fork and thought about sticking it in his ear hole. Anything to make this stop.
“I really feel like the epitome of what a woman is, is something I capture. I mean…” Wendy gave a smile and flicked a lock of black hair behind her shoulder, motioning to her body. “Isn’t this what you want when you think of a woman?” she said in that same low tone again, staring down Blake.
He didn’t acknowledge Wendy at all. Just looked at the lovely, classy woman sitting next to him and put his arm around her.
“This is the only woman I think of,” Blake said.
Carrie’s skin heated beneath his touch. Those big brown eyes searched his as if trying to believe his words. They might be in a fake relationship, but he wouldn’t sit here and let Carrie slowly deflate. This had to be a special kind of torture for her. He wanted to remind her how wonderful she was. And that had nothing to do with the game. That was just the truth.
But apparently neither Wendy nor Kevin appreciated being ignored, because Kevin droned on, picking up where Wendy left off. And all Blake wanted to do was get Carrie out of there.
…
“I really try to capture the essence of a woman in my art,” Kevin said. “You know the last one that sold, Care Bear.” He snapped his fingers at Carrie and she shuddered. “What was it?”
“Euphoria,” she muttered, and took another drink. The wine was helping her nerves, and the stuff that Blake had just whispered in her ear helped ebb the insecurity rising in her stomach.
She shouldn’t have come to dinner.
“Yes!” Kevin said. “It was so transcendent and—”
“Purple,” Wendy cut in.
Which made Carrie giggle. Even though the model flirted with Blake, Carrie was almost tipsy enough not to care. She and Blake were just fake anyway, right? Not that Wendy and Kevin knew that. But Blake didn’t seem interested in Wendy. He hadn’t even looked twice at her.
“I used the lilac and violets to capture a woman’s spirit,” Kevin said. God, he was still on his art and how brilliant he was—
“Because you know so much about a woman’s spirit,” Carrie mumbled.
So she’d had enough, too.
“Seriously, it’s just purple. It looked like Barney threw up on a canvas,” Wendy said.
Carrie snorted with laughter. “I tried to tell him,” she said between breaths. And she had. He had always given her a hard time for not having vision, but seriously
. “It’s all purple.”
Kevin looked a little edgy and took several swallows of his wine. “You uncreative types just don’t understand.”
That made Carrie pause. He always said stuff like that. Always. And it was then she realized somewhere along the way it’d slowly chipped away at her self-esteem. Not tonight. Whether it was Blake next to her or the wine, Carrie would stand up for herself for once.
“So, you’re claiming that because you’re creative, you know more about women than women?” Carrie asked.
Kevin laughed. “Blake over there understands,” Kevin said. And Carrie knew what he was doing. Shifting the attention. Normally Kevin loved attention, so long as it was praising him.
“Oh, I don’t understand women,” Blake said. “I guess you’d call me an uncreative type.”
“That’s not true,” Carrie said, with a wink. “You know how to do a lot of things involving a woman.” She traced her fingers over his hand, and yep, Kevin noticed. Good. Because she hadn’t had sex with Blake yet, and already she knew he’d be a better lover than Kevin.
And when did the “yet” slip out?
Thankfully it only slipped out in her buzzed thoughts.