“Yes, ma’am,” he said, trying to erase the brief sight he’d gotten of her round bottom, looking even better than it had in overalls. Damn, he liked a woman in clingy sweatpants. He didn’t know why exactly, but there you had it.
“Around the corner,” she said, gesturing with a sweep of her hand. “I couldn’t do much near the oak. The roots run almost the length of the yard. So, I cleared another area after I moved in. Graded the land two, maybe three, percent. It gets ample sunlight and mild wind. And more than adequate drainage. The worst problem I’ve faced is a slight nitrogen deficiency, which is correctable.”
Puzzled and grappling with responses he had no time for, the smell of fresh-cut grass and blooming flowers nearly overwhelmed Campbell. He nudged his glasses and squinted, the crescent moon supplying enough light to see but not well. Milky gray mist enveloped his feet as he made his way along a rock path, embedded firmly enough that it felt like walking along a dry riverbed.
“Careful, Atlanta. Dew slicks these up.”
He curbed the urge to look back as he listened to the slap of her bare feet against stone. The path leveled, and he paused to secure his balance, taking a step forward when he was sure.
When the area came into full view, he halted, his lungs releasing in a burst.
Wooden benches and ivy-covered fences, beds of ferns, and wild splashes of color. Red berries on shrubs that must bud year-round. Dazed, he crossed beneath a trellis banded by wrist-thick vines, snagged his sleeve on a thorn, and pulled away, not feeling the scratch in the least. To the left, bricks edged a dense assemblage of azaleas and some kind of deepgreen plant he couldn’t identify; to the right, violets surrounded a large birdbath, situated perfectly beneath a towering dogwood.
In the far corner sat the white lattice gazebo, straight out of a fairy tale.
Campbell glanced back, unable to check the impulse. Moonlight cascaded over Fontana, rivulets of ivory pooling in her hair, a liquid slide past her shoulders and arms, the swell of her breasts beneath the thin knit. Watching her glide her hand across a leaf, as maternal a touch as any he’d ever seen, her magnificence hit him full force.
Often called single-minded and intense—and agreeing—he didn’t usually pause long enough to hear his own heartbeat or the whistle of air from his lips. This time, he couldn’t stop himself. Vapor, sum and substance, seeped from the dark brown soil and surged through his body. The soul of his family’s land dwelled in this replicated Eden, nestled in the middle of his grandfather’s long-lost cotton field.
And he had come home, in part, to force the creator to vacate the premises.
“I’d thought to do a pool planting of cattails and water lilies over there.” A bare arm extended, brushing his elbow. “To soften the presentation. Give it the charm of a cottage garden. Landscaping doesn’t have to be elaborate to be effective, although I’ve obviously taken some artistic liberties here.”
Considering the feasibility of finding a way to let this enigmatic woman keep the oasis she’d created, Campbell surrendered to the beauty of the setting, pawing at his chest as he reached for a camera sitting in his bedroom. Turning in a full circle, he drank in her secluded paradise, almost tasting it. Intense tonal contrast. Rich explosions of shadow layered against ghostly streaks of mist. Silhouette and contour bursting from every nook.
Had he witnessed a place more deserving of a photograph?
A hundred photographs. A thousand.
“Mr. True?”
“Black and white.” He made another half turn. “Tangible print. Also, the grain’s more in harmony with natural textures—rock, grass, water, the like. I’d probably underexpose. Darkens the tone, enriches the hues. Dodge and burn like a madman.”
“Atlanta.”
He lifted his glasses to rub his eyes, a man emerging from a trance. “Ignore me.”
She gazed at him, moonlight glistening on the tips of her hair, turning it a glorious shade of mahogany.
Fontana Quinn look wonderfully surreal surrounded by mist in her replicated oasis.
“I should take Kit home. Clouds are moving in. Rain’s coming.” His gaze flickered briefly to her mouth, then shifted to the sky, as if the inky-black expanse held more fascination than the woman.
“Rain, my ass,” she muttered, skirting past him, anger radiating off her. “You should let him sleep. Come back in the morning.”
“You can’t keep him, Quinn.”
“You don’t want him, True. His mother tossed him out like day-old garbage and you never came to clean up the mess.”
Campbell closed the distance between them, careful not to touch her. No need for that. “I’ll say this once and never again, so listen closely. I begged his mother to let him live with me. The only time in my life I’ve been turned down by a woman, to be blunt. I had everything set up—a spot at a private school, a tutor, a housekeeper, and a nurse for John Nelson. But none of that fit Celia’s plans. She wanted him here. Miserable, but here.”
He wished he didn’t feel the need to release this secret in the lush darkness, but he did. It should have terrifiedhim that he wantedher, of all people, to understand. “She wantedmehere. And Kit was the only way to accomplish that.”
Fontana’s hand rose to her mouth to hide her gasp, but her shocked expression was unmistakable. “Ah, the situation begins to make sense. You had an affair. Men couldn’t seem to stay away from Celia, despite her being the most worthless human being I’ve ever known.” She gave a derisive snort. “The power of a DD cup simply amazes me.”
Campbell leaned in, his shadow looming over her. Fury tightened his chest, and his teeth clenched so hard a muscle popped in his jaw. “I never slept with her. There was no affair, there was nothing.Ever.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tried to cover for you with Kit?” Fontana’s voice softened, though there was still an edge to it. “Trust me, he had no one else to turn to. John Nelson spends most of his days thinking he’s a young man, waiting for his wife to come home and cook dinner. And you’re—” She yanked the bill of her cap, exhaling a small, frustrated sigh. “What’s the use? You’re blind.”
