He didn’t mean for it to happen, but when Sophia Jonson stood in the gravel driveway and flashed him a pleasant smile, Jack Hermosa-Tyler instinctively winked.
Sophia came closer, flattered by Jack’s friendly gesture. It wasn’t everyday that this talented artist received such a greeting.
Had Jack been subjected to primitive interrogation methods in a bleak room with nothing but a stool and suspended light bulb, he would have categorically denied intentionally flirting with the lovely Ms. Jonson, who just happened to be the nicest, prettiest woman in all of Hobnar County. He looked at her face, soft and gentle; her blue eyes, stormy like the sea. And when she smiled at him, he felt as if every ounce of him were melting.
“Hey,” she said, approaching closer to the white electrical van where Jack stood removing the brown leather tool belt from around his muscular frame. He had just come from the church.
“Hi,” Jack replied, twisting to close the van’s back door. How he managed to drive with a tool belt slung around his waist was hard for Sophia to imagine.
“You’re home early.”
“Yes,” Jack agreed without offering details about the motivation for his hasty departure from the church. But, had the name Angelina Sparks entered the conversation, Jack would have flinched.
“It’s good to see you.”
Those words of encouragement brought a sparkling smile to Jack’s handsome face. His dark eyes fixed upon Sophia and for a brief moment he stood speechless, for she had taken his breath away.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” Sophia said, pulling at Jack’s muscle-bulging arm. Her warm hand slipped downward then, finding his fingers, which she securely grasped.
Her voice brimmed with excitement as she led the talented electrician into her home overlooking wondrous scenic Raven Lake. It had been only the second time he had crossed her threshold since arriving in Dalton Springs, and he found great pleasure there, in her presence.
“This way,” Sophia whispered, enjoying the lingering contact of his calloused hand against hers. She took him to her most private place, a studio filled with canvas, easels, and paints.
Filled with awe, Jack Hermosa-Tyler stared at Sophia’s many oil paintings, and a few lifelike sculptures she had scattered around the room. “You could open a gallery.”
Graciously accepting the compliment, Sophia said, “Actually, my work is commissioned in two galleries; one in Minneapolis, the other in Chicago.”
“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Jack continued looking at the paintings, their rich colors and textures.
“Listen, I didn’t bring you here for this. I want to show you something else—something very special.”
Jack’s curiosity piqued.
“Here.” Sophia removed a white sheet draped over an easel, next to the window. On the canvas was a portrait of none other than her temporary tenant, Jack Hermosa-Tyler.
Jack’s jaw dropped, but no words sounded. For a long moment, his dark eyes drifted between his hostess and the detailed portrait which accentuated a flirting smile.
“You like it?” Sophia felt uncomfortable in the heavy silence.
“Very much,” Jack finally responded, his eyes turning, locking solidly upon her provocative glistening lips. He stepped closer.
“Jack?”
He moved again, pressing into Sophia. Breathing deeply, Jack inhaled the intoxicating scent of her.
“Jack?” Sophia’s voice rose higher, breaking his seeming hypnotic trance.
Shuddering, Jack retreated, but not before apologizing, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Jack felt awash in relief, yet he couldn’t drive away the burning desire to feel her close to him again. There could be only one solution. “Go dancing with me, Sophia.”
Blushing, Sophia replied, “I can’t dance. I’m horrible.”
“I’ll teach you,” Jack promised, his dark eyes alight with fire. “There’s a band playing tonight in Brightan.”
If Jack had been any other man, Sophia would have flatly refused. Dancing in Brightan? Ha, what was the world coming to? But he was Jack Hermosa-Tyler, the skilled electrician whose days were numbered in Dalton Springs. If she didn’t accept his invitation now, there might not be another chance.
“I’ll meet you back here in an hour. We’ll go have dinner, afterwards dance.” With that, Jack Hermosa-Tyler departed, leaving Sophia Jonson with nothing but a painting of him and a promise.
© 2006 by author. All rights reserved.
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