Page 74 of Marrying Off My Husband

I didn’t care that she was late, only that she’d come, after all. “Ready to head to the studio?”

“Yes. I guess,” she said hesitantly as we strolled to my car. “I’m not sure how great I’m going to be at painting, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Besides, it’s just a little fun for two gals to share before some lunch and shopping.”

“And dinner,” she reminded me with a grin.

“Yes,” I exclaimed. “I’m glad you could clear your schedule. I really needed the day with my bestie.”

We climbed into the car, and I dug into the bag for my chocolate eclair before I fired the engine.

“I think I’ll save mine. I don’t want to drop any crumbs or worse in your car.”

“Oh, darlin’,” I said as I bit into mine and whipped out of the parking space. “I’ll just buy a new one.”

“Oh, I–”

“Just eat it, Eve,” I instructed.

Holding it carefully over the bag, Eve took a bite. I admired how sweet she was to take care of my car, but by the end of the summer, I’d probably have grown weary of the color.

We polished off the pastries as we arrived at the seaside studio, and I parked out front. Linked arm in arm, I dragged her up the stairs to the artist’s studio.

The French man invited us inside, his eyes lingering on Eve long enough that I thought Spencer may get jealous if he knew.“Today, we paint ze sea,” he said, his accent thick, as he led us to two easels he’d set up near a large window.

“Wow, you have a great view,” Eve said with a wide grin.

“Yes,” he said, still admiring her. “Right now, I do.”

Her features pinched a little and pink colored her cheeks.

“Now, you will follow me with ze painting. Take your brushes.”

“He’s too much,” I whispered to Eve as we followed his lead, swiping some blue across the canvas. “I think he likes you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, shooting me a sideways glance.

“I’m serious. He was flirting with you. He thinks you’re c’est magnifique,” I said with a lift of my shoulder a grin.

“Right,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Would you date him? Oh, he could paint you nude.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, her features reddening. “No one is painting me in the nude.”

“Ladies?” Jacques called over his shoulder. “Is there some question?”

“No. We’re just gabbing while we paint.”

“Ze painting should be quiet.”

“Sorry,” I called. “I like to talk.”

“Talk later, paint now.”

I shot Eve an amused wince.

“Eve,” I whispered after a few moments.

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