Read Summer in Eclipse Bay for Free Online

possible shade of ice blue swirled around her shapely calves. She wore a matching silk blouse. A tiny blue belt studded with small chunks of clear crystal encircled her trim waist. Her fiery hair was held back off her face by a pale aqua scarf that had been folded to form a narrow headband.
    People in the art world were supposed to wear black, Nick thought. Until he'd met Octavia, he had always assumed it was a rule.
    As always, he felt his insides clench at the sight of her. He ought to be getting used to this sensation, he thought. But the appearance of the Fairy Queen never failed to steal his breath for a few seconds.
    When she met his gaze across the showroom, Nick could almost see the familiar, concealing veil slip into place. But when she looked at Carson, she was all smiles.
    "Good morning," she said, speaking more to the boy than the man.
    "Hi, Miss Brightwell." Carson blossomed in the warmth of her smile. "I brought my pictures to show you."
    "You may have noticed that we're here a little early," Nick said dryly. "And we came without coffee and muffins. Carson was in a hurry."
    "We'll get you some coffee and a muffin right after you see my pictures," Carson assured her, looking a little worried because of the oversight.
    "I can't wait to see your pictures," Octavia said warmly.
    "I brought three." Carson tugged the rubber band off the roll of drawings. "Dad said I should let you pick. But I'm pretty sure you'll like the picture of Winston best. I added some extra fur."
    "Let's spread them out and take a look."
    Octavia led the way to a long white bench at the far side of the room. She and Carson unrolled the drawings and arranged them side by side.
    Octavia studied each picture in turn with rapt attention, her expression absorbed and serious-for all the world, Nick thought, as if she were considering the pictures for a real, high-profile, career-making show such as she had given Lillian a while back in Portland.
    "The house is very good," she said after a moment.
    "That's me and Dad inside," Carson said. "Dad's the big one."
    Octavia gave Nick a fleeting glance. He could have sworn she turned a rosy shade of pink before hastily returning her attention to the picture.
    She cleared her throat. "Yes, I can see that."
    "This is Dead Hand Cove," Carson said, pointing to the next picture. "Aunt Lillian said I should include it, but I think landscapes are boring. Just rocks and water. Take a look at Winston."
    Obediently Octavia moved to examine the furry gray blob with the pointy ears.
    "You've certainly captured the essence of his personality very well," she said.
    Carson was pleased. "I told Dad you'd like this one best. I brought my crayon with me. I can add some more fur if you want."
    "No, I think he has precisely the right amount of fur," Octavia said decisively. "I'll hang this one in the show."
    Carson bounced a little with excitement. "Will you frame it?"
    "Of course. I'm going to frame all of the pictures in the show." She looked at him. "You forgot to sign it."
    "I'll do it now." Carson whipped out his crayon and went to work inscribing his first name in large block letters in the right-hand corner of the picture. "I almost forgot," he added, not looking up from the task, "I promised Dad that if you liked my picture, I'd tell you that it was okay to go out with him."
    A stunned hush enveloped the gallery. Nick looked at Octavia. Her veiled expression never flickered, but he saw something that might have been speculation in her eyes. Or was that just his imagination?
    Oblivious to the electricity he had just generated, Carson concentrated intently on printing the last letters of his name.
    "Sorry about that," Nick muttered.
    "No problem," Octavia murmured.
    There was another short, extremely uncomfortable silence.
    "So?" Octavia said.
    He frowned. "So, what?"
    "So, are you going to ask me out again?"
    "Uh-" He hadn't been caught this far off guard since high school. He felt like an idiot. He could only hope that