Page 20 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“I can’t. They’re just colors thrown onto a canvas, London. There’s no rhyme or reason to it.”

“Right, so maybe it represents life in that way?”

“Maybe,” I answer hesitantly.

“You know, there’s no wrong answer, babe.”

“Really? That’s not what you said about the newspaper sculpture.” I peer down to her.

She rolls her eyes. “Because that was clearly a bird!”

“Nope, newspaper,” I say shortly.

She shakes her head. “I hate you,” she says with a smile.

“And I love you, babe.” I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Okay, let me try again.” I stand up straight and face the painting.

“Oh, good.” London says and faces the painting, too.

“I spy with my little eye…a woman in a tight red dress.”

“No, you don’t.” London giggles.

“Oh, yeah…yeah, I do. Right here.” I point toward the glob of red paint in the middle of the canvas. “And, oh…do you see this black squiggly line? That is me as I approach the woman, who’s drop-dead gorgeous, by the way. Her eyes are big and a beautiful brown with flecks of gold. And her lips…” I allow my head fall back as I let out a sigh.

“Tell me about her lips,” London urges.

I look at the painting again. “Well, they’re perfect…plump and full…and so kissable.” I circle my hand above the top right portion of the canvas, which holds a bunch of paint swirls. “This, right here, is the man taking the woman. She’s so gorgeous that he had to have her immediately…so they strolled off to the corner of the room. He’s holding her against a wall and pounding into her as she screams his name.”

“Oh, wow. That escalated quickly.”

I nod. “Yep…sure did.”

“What about all of this right here?” London points to the squiggles surrounding the swirly paint in the corner.

“Well, those are all of the other people watching, of course. How could they not? When this couple gets together, it’s pretty astounding.”

London turns to me and grabs my arm. “We should go find a corner.”

“What?” I question.

“I want it. I want your version of the painting…just minus the watching crowd.” She grins.

“London…” I turn and face her, and I place my finger beneath her chin. Tilting her face up toward mine, I press my lips against hers, taking her in a soft kiss. I pull away. “We can’t.”

“Uh, yeah, we can. What’s up? We’ve done it in public places before. Remember the Mexican restaurant restroom?”

“Yeah, but your dad wasn’t in the Mexican restaurant with us. He would be mortified and embarrassed if we got caught. Not to mention, he’d hate me forever.”

“Then, we won’t get caught. Come on,” she says with a mischievous smile.

Damn it if I’m not instantly hard.

“All right, but we have to find someplace good.”

“Look at you, being all responsible.” She laughs as she takes my hand.

I chuckle. “This hardly counts as being responsible, London.”

---