Page 15 of Her Painter Bear Mate

She felt Clarissa's presence behind her and tensed, bracing herself for a cutting comment.

"You really are blocked," Clarissa remarked quietly.

She was standing so close, Dee could feel her breath on the shell of her ear. It was warm and tickly but not unpleasant.

"I just don't have a vision. It's just... green and trees and leaves," she said, gesturing to the view in front of her. "Landscapes have always bored me. Sorry, no offence."

"No offence taken. Let me have a think, hmm. Well, it's not about what's literally in front of you but how it makes you feel."

"Cold. Wet feet. Wishing I was home?" Dee said, snarkier than intended. She would do well to remember that Clarissa was trying to help her.

Luckily, the other woman just laughed. "Then put it in the painting for me. I know you can."

The last words were said with a breath that caressed Dee's ear and it made her shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold. She rotated her shoulders and pushed the feeling away, determined to get something on her canvas.

She grabbed her tube of white and squirted a big dollop on her palette. If Clarissa wanted cold, she would get cold.

Dee picked up one of her bigger brushes and added a layer of white broken with blue and green on her canvas. She thought about snow and rain and how her socks were squelchy because she hadn't worn the right shoes while she added her first layer of shapes. Working with acrylics was different from oil paint, it took less waiting and drying time. There was more scope for impulsivity and no time for long deliberations. The moment a blot of colour was set, there was only a small window to blend or change it.

Without realising, she got sucked into her painting and conveying just how freezing cold it was out here. She added shaky lines, some on purpose, others because of her trembling hand. She stripped all the trees of their leaves and created long eerie branches that reminded her of creepy hands and even though it wasn't snowing, she added some for dramatic effect.

When Clarissa called the end of class, Dee stepped away from her painting to really look at what she'd done. She couldn't lie, she didn't love it. To her, the painting was bland, lacking interesting colour, and barely resembled the view. It was definitely not one to sell or hang up on a wall.

But... she didn't hate it. Even better, she had fun doing it.

Her gaze drifted over to Clarissa who was chatting with one of the others and Dee felt a rush of relief. While this was a far cry away from what she needed for her exhibition, it gave her hope that she wasn't a complete lost cause just yet.

And weirdly, she had her rival to thank for it.

TEN

Dee

Dee stood in front of her canvas, her brush hovering in front of the sketch of nondescript buildings. The good thing about oil paint was that it allowed a lot of thinking time.

It was also a bad thing.

She could practically feel the new box of acrylic paints glare at her from the corner of the studio where they sat, untouched. A present from Clarissa.

Dee wasn't sure what to do with them. While she’d managed to put something down that she didn't hate during the outdoor painting session, it wasn't exactly gallery-standard. Or her style. Those things mattered when she was creating and selling to an audience. She couldn't just change what she did. Then again, what she normally did wasn't working.

She put her brush in the cup of paint thinner, swishing the oil paint out of the bristles.

She was halfway towards reaching for the acrylics when a loud scratch came from the other side of the door. Sad desperate whines followed that could only mean one thing.

“Saved by the dog,” Dee muttered to herself, steering far clear from the paint as she opened the door.

Millie came bouncing in and Dee only managed to block the brown and white dog thanks to her quick reflexes and experience. The last time Millie came into her studio, a bunch of her paintings ended up with colourful dog paws and bites out of them. A costly mistake, both in terms of painting and vet bills.

“Out,” Dee instructed, sternly pointing at the front door.

Millie didn't need telling twice. She shot through the hallway like a rocket, her feet barely touching the floor.

“Mum! I’m taking Millie out for a walk,” Dee shouted.

Her mum’s voice came from upstairs. “Okay! Make sure to wear a jacket! And can you buy some milk?”

“Yup! See you soon!” Dee replied, grabbing the lead from the hook.

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