Strong Enough to Love by Victoria Dahl Page A

man intent on wearing out every muscle in her body. Someone she could laugh with between orgasms. Someone who understood her passions and humor and—
    She shoved those thoughts away, shaking her head in panicked denial. No. She wasn’t going there. She’d given him up for good. Even thoughts of him. He no longer existed. Hell, he never had, not for her.
    “Where do you want these cords, boss man?”
    Eve looked up to see Grace standing there, her eyebrows raised in sarcastic question, the wild blue strands in her dark hair vivid in the sunlight.
    “Oh, all right,” Eve sighed. “I’ll help break down, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
    Grace snorted and started for Eve’s brand-new black SUV. “You know I can’t reach the lights when you put them up that high. But they’re turned off and cooling.”
    “Thanks. I’ll get them.” They’d used only two lights to add a little ambient warmth to the natural daylight, and she had them broken down and the whole shoot packed up within thirty minutes. Grace carried the last bags up the trail to Eve’s truck. Eve was alone for a moment, surrounded by nothing but pine trees and wild grass matted down by the melting snow.
    She took a deep breath and turned in a slow circle, taking in the quiet for a moment. It was spring. The mountain peaks would stay white for months, but the first wildflowers would start to bloom in a few weeks. She loved the spring. The scent of the first faint hints of green grass curved around her and filled her lungs, but the wind whipped it away within moments.
    She had dreams sometimes that she could capture scent in a photo, that she could hold on to so much more than a picture.
    Then again, being able to experience a remembered scent at will was likely a terrible idea. Her heart hurt at the very thought.
    Eve clenched her teeth together and started up the trail. She’d go home and work for a few hours, then take that hot bath in the hopes of soaking away this new melancholy.
    But her plans for escape were foiled when she found Grace leaning against the tailgate of the truck, a mischievous smile in place. “Hey! You’re coming to Jenny’s birthday party tonight, right?”
    Shit. She’d forgotten about that. And now she had her heart set on a pitiful evening of feeling sorry for herself. “Grace—”
    “Nope. I knew you’d try to wiggle out of it, but you’re going. Good God, Eve, you’re only, what? Thirty-five?”
    “Thirty-six,” she said, hating that Grace’s guess had been so close.
    “So you haven’t earned your right to a quiet night at home with a microwaved dinner. You’ve got to put in a few more years of hard partying. Come on.”
    “I’ve already put in years’ worth of manhandling thanks to you and Jenny always foisting men on me.”
    “We aren’t foisting. We’re just forcing you to dip your toe into the water. A few dates here and there never hurt anyone.”
    “They’ve been painful enough,” Eve grumbled.
    “Oh, please. Don’t be a wuss. Anyway, I’m not trying to fix you up tonight. Though there will be lots of cowboys there. And cowgirls. Maybe that’s your thing.”
    No, it wasn’t Eve’s thing, but maybe it would be easier if it were. She’d never been good with men. It hadn’t bothered her until a few years ago.
    “Come to the party,” Grace said. “If you don’t, I’ll come drag you out of your house in your nightgown. Because I bet you wear a nightgown.”
    Eve gave her the finger. She didn’t wear a nightgown. She wore a men’s XXL T-shirt in a very attractive shade of camouflage green and a pair of running shorts that had gotten too tattered to wear while running.
    “You are a bitch,” she said very clearly.
    “Employee abuse!”
    “You wish.”
    Grace smiled. “So you’ll come?”
    “Fine,” Eve huffed.
    “Good.”
    She waved Grace into the truck, vaguely remembering the invitation now. She’d been forgetful lately. Somehow she’d been shrinking further and further