Page 43 of Temptation

“Thank you.” She gave him a squeeze and tried to pull away, but he held her to him.

“Not done yet.”

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Tenn waited in the basement for her to finish showering. He had given her towels and directed her to the ensuite off his bedroom, reminding her that there was a camera in the bedroom, but she'd be fine in the bathroom. The idea of her naked and wet in his shower was driving him crazy, and he was aimlessly flicking through the channels, trying not to fantasize about joining her. Just when he was about to say, “fuck it,” he heard her coming down the stairs and sat back with a grateful sigh.

He smiled when she appeared, dressed in tight dark blue jeans, a white tank top, and an oversized, short grey fleece jacket. “Feel better?” he asked as she dropped down next to him, laying her bag on the floor beside her feet.

“So much better. Thank you again.” She smiled at him. “So, what should we do this afternoon?”

“I think we need to actually work on the lecture series,” Tenn replied seriously. They hadn’t done anything with the series besides the outline, and they needed to get it done, especially since he would be gone all of August.

“Oh, yeah, we definitely need to get that done.” Quinn pulled her laptop out of her bag while Tenn went to grab his from the office, and they settled in on the couch with the TV down low in the background. They spent the rest of the afternoon planning the lecture series, bouncing ideas off one another, fleshing them out, and figuring out what would work and what wouldn't.

“We can't bring in too many guests from out of town.” Quinn pointed out. “Putting them in a hotel for a week and feeding them will eat up our budget.”

“We could use my place as an Airbnb-type thing,” Tenn suggested. If things went to plan, he’d be spending most of his time at Quinn’s by then anyway.

“And you can stay with me.” She nodded thoughtfully. “You wouldn't mind someone staying here by themselves? Because if we can also get a grocery list from them, I think a week's worth of groceries will be cheaper than a week of restaurants.”

“Nah, most of them I know personally anyway, and I agree about groceries.” Tenn shrugged, thrilled with the casual way she told him he could stay with her.

“So, the first eight series is the fall semester, the focus will be on photography and film, and it will be at the library. The first four weeks will be about film, and the second four weeks will be about photography. Two nights will be speaking; two will be demonstrations or interactive, with Friday being a relaxed dinner party send-off.” Quinn quickly recapped what they had agreed on. “People can buy tickets to individual nights, four of the nights, with a cap of one hundred, and tickets to the dinner will be sold individually and capped at fifty. Tickets will be sold until the Friday before.”

“Yeah. I think that setup will keep people engaged. Plus, capping seats means people will want to buy them early to make sure they can get in.” Tenn consulted the list he had put together after he had agreed to do the series with her. “I have three photographers and two film people I can contact.”

“I have two people who do both, two photographers and one filmmaker.” They quickly put the names on a list in order of who they would reach out to first and who could be backups. Quinn wrote a proposal letter detailing everything they were offering to speak at the event, and they both sent it to their contacts.

“We'll have to rotate between the galleries and theatres at the university; I don't want to book one out for a solid eight weeks of a semester unless I have no choice.” Quinn leaned forward as she studied the schedule and tapped her lip with a pen before making a note in her notebook.

“Yeah, I'm going to have to rotate between the two galleries and the courtyard at the museum too.” Tenn nodded. “We could probably also alternate between the museum and the university throughout the semester instead of switching back and forth.”

“Yeah, that might work better. When we get back the schedule and talking points from our speakers, we can figure out if it's better to host them at the library or the museum.” Working quickly, they figured out the speakers they wanted for the other series, Paintings and Sculpting, Art History and Modern Art, and Architecture Past and Present. They did the general outline for each semester and worked out a budget and how much tickets should cost. Tenn left the numbers to her, explaining his dyscalculia.

“Of course you can't cook; you can't follow the recipe!” Quinn made the connection quickly and gripped his arm in her surprise.

“Exactly.” He nodded, blushing a little. His dyscalculia didn’t affect much in his day-to-day life, and he usually didn’t need to explain it. Viki had made fun of him until she eventually forgot about it, and he just made sure not to bring it up around her.

“That's fine; I can still teach you.” She grinned reassuringly at him. “As long as your nose and taste buds still work.”

“Oh, they work.” Tenn threw his arm around her shoulders and put his feet up on the coffee table, stretching out his long legs, more than a little relieved she never said more about it then that. “You smell delicious, like orange blossoms and honey.”

“Funny, you smell like bergamot and sandalwood.” She cuddled into his side. “I almost put on one of your t-shirts when I got out of the shower; it smelled so good, but I didn't want to stretch it out on you.”

Tenn let out a noise between a groan and a growl. Her in his clothes would send him over the top. “You can stretch every shirt I own; I can always buy more.”

Quinn giggled as she checked the time. “Do you want to check their text messages before I head home to get ready?”

“Yeah, it'll distract me from the picture I have of you in nothing but my t-shirt.” The picture was very vivid in his mind, and he definitely needed the distraction. Quinn leaned in and kissed his cheek with a smirk, then grabbed her laptop and pulled up Joel's iCloud and his messages.

“He punishes by giving the silent treatment, so there may be nothing there.”

“Wow, so does she; they are perfect for one another.” Tenn rolled his eyes. Silent treatment was one of the punishments he hated the most. Issues weren’t resolved by ignoring them. They had to be discussed. He leaned over Quinn’s shoulder, and they read the texts together.

We need to talk.

You're right; we do.

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