Everything You Need (10 page)

Hazel cleared her throat. “Um, I’m guessing you were
in the groove of renovating.”

“No, more like having a disco fever moment. I should
have realized those were the drugs years. People could do those
moves and not feel a thing.”

“What happened to the music…” Brice turned the corner
and stopped. The drill hung limp in his hand.

She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. No,
they hadn’t made promises to each other last night. She didn’t know
the rules of this game. She’d never had a mindless affair. Her
breath eased out when a smile spread across his face.

“Hazel.”

Maybe her own emotions were clouding her judgment,
but he said her name with affection.

“I was just stopping by.” She cleared her throat
again. “I realized I’d never seen the inside of the house.”

“I can take you on a very short tour if you
like.”

“No, I don’t need to go to the E.R.,” Tony
interrupted the moment. “Thanks for asking.”

“Oh.” She broke the contact with Brice. She inspected
Tony’s foot. It had already started to bruise, but since he’d been
wiggling his toes without screaming, she guessed that meant he
would indeed survive. “Well, no more disco fever for you. Leave it
to the pros like Travolta.”

“Don’t flirt with him. It only encourages him.”

Tony said, “He had a shirt on earlier. He must have
seen you coming, so he’s not any better than I am.”

“I’m sure your mother had a great time keeping you
two apart.” Hazel shook her head.

Tony nodded. “I’m going to the main land, wrapping it
up for the day.”

“Finally,” Brice muttered.

“I heard that.”

“I meant for you to,” Brice said to the door as it
closed behind Tony.

Hazel bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “The
tour?”

“Right. Are you sure?”

She turned to the blank walls and fought the itch in
the pads of her fingertips. “Pretty sure. I want to see what you’ve
been doing. The house looked pretty bad on the outside, but I know
that can be misleading.”

He began to take her through the house, detailing the
minor changes he’d made. From the sound of things, she’d been
right; the house had good bones. No termites, no dry rot, no weak
beams, nor did he have to tear walls out to put up new plaster. He
hadn’t tried to paint, so all the walls were as bare as the living
room—a blank canvas. Hazel stuck her hands in her pockets to keep
the itch at bay, and then he took her into the master bedroom.

“Oh, my,” she gasped.

“Yeah, I know.”

She walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass window. The
view allowed her to be eye level with the endless horizon. If she
kept her gaze straight ahead it felt as if she stood on the sand,
the waves lapping at her feet. She could easily imagine pulling the
covers from her face and being greeted with something as
breathtaking as the sight before her.

“Oh, my,” she repeated, still not able to get her
mind to work above the buzz in her ears. Hazel remembered this
buzz; a craving she thought had died long before she’d taken the
extended vacation. The buzz hadn’t been this strong since her last
year in college.

“It should have a balcony.” Hazel moved from Brice’s
side and stood in front of the window. Like a second instinct she
started to think of colors that would best suit the light filtering
through the window.

“Hazel?”

“Hmm,” she answered absently.

The color scheme in her rented cabin wouldn’t do.
Richer hues would work better here. She started to walk to the
master bathroom, and Brice stepped in her way. She blinked. She’d
forgotten he was there.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She smiled. “Better than okay. Can I see the
bathroom?”

“Why do you want to see the bathroom?”

“So I can…” This wasn’t a job. She let out a shaky
breath. Like an itch in the middle of her shoulders she couldn’t
reach, Hazel still wanted to see the bathroom.

He nodded. “I need to tell you something, Hazel.”

The serious tone made her go still. “What is it?”

His hands slid down to her hands. “I knew who you
were before you told me.”

She frowned in confusion. “How?”

“I saw you in a magazine, one for interior designers.
Before I asked you out for drinks.”

She’d been right again. He was going to hurt her. She
wanted to pull her hands from his, but his grip had tightened. The
pieces started to fall into place. “And you just ended up on this
island by coincidence?”

“Yes, that much is a coincidence.”

She narrowed her eyes and looked into his. She wanted
to believe he was lying, but his eyes told her everything she
needed to know with him. He was telling the truth. It didn’t make
the pain in her chest lessen. “So, all that ego stroking…”

“You are good at what you do, Hazel. I shouldn’t have
to lie about what you know.”

But she didn’t know anymore. Wrenching out from his
grip, goose bumps raised on her arms. She rubbed them to get the
warmth back. “And when were you going to tell me?”

“I wanted to get to know you. I wanted to understand
how I could approach you— and then things changed on me.” He took a
breath and let it back out. “I still want you to design the
house.”

If he had said anything else she might have shrugged
off the deceit. Okay, maybe not shrugged, but it shouldn’t have
mattered. They weren’t going to see each again. How could he have
known the change in their relationship? It was the last thing she’d
expected when going on vacation. She sighed, but kept rubbing her
arms.

“I think it’s only fair you pitch the idea to me.
You’ve let it go on this far.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Hazel.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes this time. The truth of
his statement rang in his words. It hurt to breathe in too deeply,
so she didn’t. “You didn’t hurt me,” she lied. “You’ve got thirty
seconds.”

“You’re really going to do this?”

Hazel crossed her arms as an answer. Brice ran a hand
through his hair. “You need a comeback. This house is a great
opportunity for you.” Hazel snorted, but he kept talking. “I saw
the light go back into your eyes today.”

He stepped closer and gestured to the window. “I saw
a look come into your eyes the moment you saw these walls. I don’t
think I even have to ask you, because you already want to do
it.”

Unlike her, Brice never lied. Omitted like hell but
never lied and that made the heaviness in her chest squeeze the air
out of her lungs. She wanted to design his house. More than she
wanted to design for all the money in the world.

She hated him for seeing it, recognizing it, and
trying to use it to his advantage. She hated herself more because,
even knowing his reason, Hazel still wanted to design the
house.

She took in a much needed breath and accepted the
tarnished gift. She needed to design again.

“Your thirty seconds are up.” She turned on her heel
and left.

*****

Brice scrubbed his face with unsteady hands. He’d
known telling Hazel the truth would ruin what they had. He hadn’t
expected the knot that formed in his stomach as he watched her
leave him. Nor the regret taking root and growing claws with each
breath he took.

One step forward and Brice stopped. He had no right
to ask her to come back. Just like he had no right to make her
laugh or moan just because he needed her to. It didn’t matter that
he didn’t make promises to Hazel. He’d known the type of man he was
before he touched her, and still he had done it.

LL Cool J started to play in his pocket. He sighed
deep and long before answering his phone.

“When are you going to tell her?” Tony asked with
preamble.

Brice closed his eyes. “I’m not in the mood right
now. I’ll call you back.”

He hung up the phone. Man, he missed the days of
phones with cradles. Pushing a button didn’t have the same effect
as slamming a phone down. Before he could place his phone back into
his pocket Sinatra started to play. He gritted his teeth. Tony had
already made it home.

He answered his phone again. “Hi, Pops.”

“Brice?” The silken voice reached out of the depths
of his past.

The knot in his stomach tightened. “Carmen.”

His legs gave out and he slide to the floor. It had
been years since he heard the heavily accented voice, a voice that
had haunted him many nights in the past, just as he suspected
Hazel’s would in the future.

“It’s good to hear your voice. How have you been
doing?”

He gave a short laugh. “Fine. You?”

“Better. Pops kind of put me on the spot when he
handed me the phone. I wanted to call you but wasn’t sure…”

If he was still running from her, Brice finished for
her in his head. He ran a hand through his hair, still seeing
Hazel’s eyes, and said what he should have said years ago. “I’m
sorry.”

“Water under the bridge. It’s taken me a while, but
what you did was for the best.” It was her turn to give a short
laugh, though nothing of their history was funny. “It’s taken me a
long while to be able to say that. We weren’t ready for
marriage.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “What brought this
on?”

“I’ve talked to your mother. She told me about
Hazel.” She paused. “I don’t want you to think that what happened
with us…” He heard her blow out a breath. “She told me you haven’t
forgiven yourself for it.”

He closed his eyes again. “My mother talks too
much.”

“She loves you.” She paused again. “I still do, too,
but like a long lost brother. Anyway, I’m about to get married. I
wanted to invite you to the wedding. You know how small the
community is.”

“It’s like a family.”

This time her laugh was genuine. “A very large,
controlling family. Can’t-poison-the-wine type of thing.”

The hollowness inside his chest left him weak and
Brice couldn’t find the strength to laugh. If she’d called a few
weeks earlier—he stopped the thought. Things weren’t serious with
Hazel. He barely knew her. Two weeks with someone didn’t change
your life. The knot didn’t loosen with the reassurances.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he forced past his lips.

The pause felt like it lasted a lifetime. “I’ve got
to go.”

“It was nice hearing from you, Carmen.” It surprised
him, but he meant it.

“Brice?”

“Yeah.”

Carmen stayed quiet and Brice was about to say her
name when she spoke. “
Ti perdono.
”

Before he could reply, the dial tone rang in his
ears. He let his head rest against the wall at the simple phrase
she’d spoken. Carmen was giving him her blessing. He didn’t deserve
one. He’d broken her heart and hadn’t had the grace to give it back
to her. He couldn’t even do that right. He kept his eyes closed as
her words kept echoing in his head—I forgive you.

The knot would stay in his stomach until he figured
out a way for Hazel to do the same.

Chapter 10

It had been a very, very long night for Hazel. At
some point she’d broken down, taken out a pencil and paper, and
started to design the images flitting around in her head. She’d
known the itch that crept under her skin wouldn’t leave until she
scratched it. Hazel didn’t have to like it, nor did she have to
take the design any farther then the pieces of paper strewn across
her floor.

Even as she thought it, Hazel knew it was a lie.
Forces larger than herself, larger than Brice’s request, made her
stay up half the night, her hand moving fast across the pages until
the cramp between her thumb and forefinger made her stop.

God, she was pathetic, Hazel thought, once she
stepped back and looked at the designs. She’d even pulled out the
smuggled colored pencils from the very bottom of her duffel.
Pathetic. But for some reason she couldn’t wipe the smile from her
face. She’d designed every room in his house—down to changing the
carpet to hardwood floors in the master bedroom.

Her eyes strayed to the front door, expecting Angie’s
knock. The woman would only tell her to once again go to Brice’s
house. It was the last thing Hazel wanted to do, but she knew the
irritating itch wouldn’t ease until she applied the Caribbean
Breeze paint to the walls herself.

“Shit,” she muttered.

She had wanted to walk away from him and the plea
he’d laid at her feet the day before. He had deceived her. No, a
lie had never crossed his lips, but the outcome had been the same.
Brice had hurt her, like he said. She’d even accepted it on some
level. There had been no intentions of love and marriage, but it
hurt just the same.

“Shit,” she said louder.

Any woman worth her salt—full of scorn and
revenge—would write him off and let him stew in the bed he made.
She would. God, she really would, just to pump her fist in the air
and place a point on the female species scoreboard.

But she was an interior designer, and that part of
her was going to take one for the team. She had to design his
house. Needed to. The papers on the floor taunted her. She was
going to sell her soul, burn her feminist card, all to design a
damn house.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

A knock came at her door then. Hazel smiled and
answered the door. “Angie, I was—oh!”

She didn’t have to see the face behind the huge
bouquet of roses to know it was Brice.

“Did Tony bring those to you, too?”

He lowered the flowers. “Nope. I went to the mainland
myself and brought them over.”

He bent down to his knees. “I’m the scum of the
earth. You have every right to never talk to me again.”

Appalled, her pitch rose. “What are you doing?”

“Groveling. Now as I was saying, I’m scum. I know
this. I’ve accepted that part of my personality. I don’t deserve to
breathe the same air as you. I—”

“Stop. You’re making a fool of yourself, and really,
groveling doesn’t change—”