It's All About Eve

“Well, maybe I should move?”

“That’s not necessary.” Carter looked at him. “That’s very nice,” Eve replied.

Ponytail looked at them both in disgust.

“We could wait until the seventh-inning stretch, if that’s any better,” Carter offered.

Ponytail harrumphed. “You sure she’s worth it?” He glanced over at Eve, then sat up straighter. The wet spots must have registered. Now he started leaning—toward Eve. And the snakes started dancing.

Carter stood up. “Would you mind?”

The snakes went still as their owner assessed his chances. Even a Phillies fan with a tattoo and ponytail apparently knew when to say no—it must have been the wisdom of his middle-aged years. “If you put it that way.” The man used two fists to heave himself away from the counter and off his stool.

“Thanks.” Carter seated himself next to Eve and slid his beer over. His adrenaline was pumping in a highly juvenile but thoroughly satisfying way. And the wet spots and the curves were that much closer. “Now what were we talking about? Oh, yeah, the pool.”

Eve looked to where their friend had banished himself to the end of the bar. She started to say something but thought better of it. She turned back to Carter. “Yes, the pool. It’s great, especially with the heat. It’s a good way to relax after work, and besides, I get to wear my merchandise.”

Carter sat up straighter. “Merchandise?”

“We sell swimwear as well as lingerie.” Eve pointed to herself. “I’m wearing one that we offer—a two-piece, really more of a bikini. You know, cut high on the leg, halter top.” She leaned forward to grab a peanut. The neck of her dress gaped open.

Carter looked. Well, he kind of looked without looking like he was trying to look. He cleared his throat. “I can see where that could be a good advertisement for your merchandise.”

“I like to think so.” Eve studied the bowl of nuts. “You’ve been swimming, too? Whenever I see you, you seem to have wet hair.” She reached for a peanut and popped it in her mouth, licking the salt off her fingertips.

Carter grabbed his beer bottle. “Ah, no, I was playing tennis.”

“Tennis? You don’t look like a tennis kind of guy.”

He looked at his clothes. “Not dressed for the country club, huh?”

Eve looked, too,—what woman wouldn’t?—at his ratty Cape May T-shirt and cargo shorts. “I suppose there’s that. But it’s more like you don’t look like someone who’d stay on his side of the net.”

Carter considered his beer bottle. “I think I like that comment, but I’m not totally sure why.”

“Well, you think about it.” Eve smiled. She saw the way his green eyes danced with an emotion that could in no way be classified as disinterest. She felt a sudden tightening between her legs. And she couldn’t blame it on her wet bathing suit riding up, since she only sold items made with the best fabric and stitching.

No, she was attracted as well. But that didn’t mean she was going to do anything about it. She quickly avoided his eyes and focused on his nose. How could an olfactory organ be so dangerous? Dumb question. “Did you lead with your nose in a fight?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Your nose looks like it was broken. It’s got this bump and it’s a little crooked.” A decidedly sexy bump and a delightful crookedness.

“You’re right. Happened back in high school. I was under the mistaken impression I could play football. A lines-man from an opposing team taught me otherwise.”

Eve scrunched up her face. “Ouch.”

“My feelings exactly. Interestingly enough, the injury seemed to skyrocket my stature among my female classmates. Here I thought proving my manhood on the playing field would get me to first base and maybe beyond. Little did I know that pain and suffering were far more likely to generate sympathy.” He smiled.

She smiled back. And felt the tightness escalate within.

“You got a bump, too.” He playfully pushed up the bridge of her glasses with his index finger and tapped the small protrusion on the side of her nose. The tip of his finger rested lightly on her skin.

It was just a slight touch. Really. Her throat constricted. Really.

Then he lowered his head. A fraction closer. Slid his finger down her nose, skirted her top lip, and rested it on her full lower lip. It was damp from the beer. Damp and inviting. And for a frantic moment, Eve was sure he was going to kiss her.

He almost did. Almost. Instead, he drew his hand back, clenched his fist, and quickly turned to search for his beer. He took a gulp. “So, did you play football in high school, too?” He motioned to her nose, only this time with a lift of his chin.

“Oh, no. I tried to break up a fight between my brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Yup, four of them, all younger. This time it was the twins. What am I saying? It was just always the twins.” She looked heavenward, realizing that she hadn’t seen acoustic tiles quite like that in a long time. She turned back to Carter. “They were arguing over something completely stupid, like who was supposed to take out the garbage, when they started cuffing each other. I couldn’t take it anymore, so like an idiot, I stepped in.” She pointed to the bump. “I got bopped. Swelled up like a goose egg, and I had raccoon eyes for a good week.”

A collective shout went up from the bar, echoed by equally loud groans. Eve looked up at the television set to see what all the fuss was. An instant replay showed the Yankees’ third baseman had just clobbered a homerun.

“Looks like my team is once more showing its true colors.” She glanced at Carter and found him studying her.

Dave set a pizza in front of Carter. “Why is it every time I go to the kitchen to get a pizza, someone hits a homerun and I miss it? Oh, man, a grand slam!” He put the metal tray down.

“Maybe I should keep ordering more?” Carter offered. “That way, it’ll guarantee you a victory.” He looked at Eve. “You hungry? How about sharing my pizza? There’s more than enough.”

Eve frowned in thought.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about the pepperoni thing you were talking about earlier? Because really, I don’t mind a few well-placed dribbles.”

Eve smiled. A man who listened. “It’s not the thought of drips exactly.”

It was Carter’s turn to be confused.

“My suit.”

“Your suit?”

“Yes, my bathing suit. I liked the style so much I grabbed it, but it’s actually a little small for me.”

“That’s bad?”

“Let’s just say it’s not exactly built for any extra pressure. And the pizza, well, it might just put it over the top, or off the top, actually.”

Carter suddenly looked very alert. “You don’t say?”

“I do say.”

“What do you know? The things one can learn about your merchandise.” He pushed the pizza in her direction. “In the interest of personal research, why don’t you test it out?”

The pepperoni did look very tempting and the smell of spices and unadulterated fat was almost overwhelming. Was it worth it? She looked at his taunting little grin. The man knew he was irresistible. Was he worth it?