Page 14 of Her Painter Bear Mate

Clarissa nodded, quite amused by the reaction. “Sure thing. It’s called Outdoor Painting for a reason. What better way to put nature on paper than by being inside nature?”

“I’m not wearing the right shoes for this,” the other woman muttered, drawing attention to her flats with little bow ties on them.

"We're not going far and if you're struggling, you can lean on me," Clarissa suggested with a grin. Her comment earned a dirty look from Dee who instantly set in motion, just as predicted. Sometimes it was too easy

A rush of affection surged through Clarissa but she squashed it down quickly. That was not what was happening here.

It couldn't.

NINE

Dee

As an artist, Dee was used to dealing with eccentric types. All her friends and colleagues were. That came with the territory. But there was rhyme and reason to their madness because it all came from the same place, that innate desire to create.

This outdoor painting class and the people in it, that was a different story. They were weird in the way only people from a small village were. Dee could just about accept the sickeningly in love teenage girls, one who only painted in pink, the other only in black. She could even understand the older gentleman with advanced arthritis who showed up for the company and views now he could no longer paint. But she wasn’t too impressed with the random woman who preferred painting entirely in the nude, a typical shifter attitude. And even more annoying was the man who insisted on telling her his entire life story starting from before he was conceived.

She never would've come to this if it wasn't for the small chance that Clarissa could help her with her painter's block. And it wasn't like she was doing anything else with her time. She wasn't painting at home, she might as well not paint here.

She twirled her brush through her fingers, letting it dance from knuckle to knuckle. A bad habit that had resulted in multiple splatter incidents when it was loaded with paint but she could never stop herself.

"And when I turned seventeen, I met the most gorgeous man in my life!" the man next to her said, gasping as he re-lived his own story. "He was absolutely lush, I tell you."

Dee tried her best to smile even though she couldn't care less. While the stranger droned on about his life, she glanced at the works of the others. While it was an amateur class, the paintings were not half bad. One of the teenagers, the one painting in all black, had a great eye for composition and bold confident lines. The woman painting her wife's portrait had good technique and was pouring her love in with every stroke.

Their paintings had character, that much was true. They told stories and revealed something about the artist themselves.

It made Dee feel even more hollow because she knew her current works did none of that, not anymore. She couldn't even remember what meaning she put into her earlier works. Maybe there never had been any which was the most confronting thing of all.

Clarissa paused behind her. “Are you okay? You’ve not put a single lick of paint on your canvas.”

“Landscapes aren’t really my thing,” Dee said. She meant to sound dismissive and confident but her voice came out vulnerable.

"You were always more of a city girl,” Clarissa said.

A few months ago, Dee would’ve confirmed that with confidence and passion. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“If you like painting nudes, you’re welcome to paint me.," the naked woman said. "You have my full consent. I'm Veronica, by the way.”

“No, thank you,” Dee said politely. She wasn’t impartial to the female form personally but it had never been her preferred subject. She also raised one eyebrow at Clarissa. This was her best student?

Clarissa gave her an amused smile in return.

The older gentleman turned in his camping chair. “Do you like still lives? You can use the muffins I brought.”

“I have tangerines if you want to have them,” one of the married people added, conjuring the two pieces of orange fruit from the pocket of her windbreaker.

"No, no, that's okay!" Dee said hastily before they put together a shitty still life. She hated those even more than landscapes. "I'm just getting in the zone. It's an outdoor painting class, right? So I'll paint the outdoors."

Since she had no other choice, Dee faked another smile and dipped her brush demonstratively in her paint. That seemed to appease the others and there was a little cheer that felt condescending but was likely genuine.

With a long face, Dee put her brush to the canvas. She never liked landscapes, mostly because it had always been Clarissa's thing and she never managed to capture the details and vibe the same way as her. Cities were her thing. Or used to be. She wasn't too sure at this point.

While she pretended to paint, she kept sneaking glances at Clarissa, curious to what her rival was like when she was teaching. As expected, Clarissa was thoughtful and attentive. Her compliments made the other participants of the class beam and her remarks made them think. When she really liked something, she kind of crinkled her nose and her eyes narrowed. It could've easily been mistaken as a sign of distaste but it just seemed her lost-in-thought expression. And unsurprisingly, she was good at this. Not just at guiding the others but recognising talent.

It made sense, she was a great artist herself. That had never been in doubt. Dee was well aware of how good Clarissa's art was, that was the frustrating part. She was watching so intently, she forgot she was meant to be painting until Clarissa caught her staring. A big teasing grin made the freckles on her cheeks dance while heat rushed to Dee's. Busted.

She quickly turned her attention back to her canvas and added some strokes at random, her ears burning too. If she kept staring like that, people were going to get the wrong impression.

---