Page 8 of The Silver Fox Bidder

He’s not easy. He’sreal.

And I’m starting to realize that might be exactly what I need.

By the time we sit down to eat, my hands are covered in paint, and so are his. I reach for a napkin, but before I can wipe my fingers, Tank catches my wrist.

His thumb brushes over my skin, slow and deliberate. The roughness of his calloused hand sends a shiver through me.

When he looks at me—really looks at me—I know this isn’t just about art.

Something is happening between us.

But what?

And am I ready for it?

Chapter 6

Tank

Lucysurprisesme.

After just a few seconds of doubting herself, she jumped right into the project with gusto. I figured she’d hesitate when I handed her the paintbrush, second-guess herself, maybe laugh it off as something she’d never be good at. Most people do. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t pause or overthink. She dives in, bold and unafraid, dragging the brush across the canvas with instinct and heart.

Damn if that doesn’t make me want her even more.

We paint together, layering colors, pressing wildflowers into thick strokes of pigment, letting the piece become something raw and imperfect andalive.She doesn’t shy away from themess of it, doesn’t try to control every detail. I watch her, mesmerized, as she pushes her fingers into the paint, smearing shades of gold and green, blending them like she’s done this a hundred times before.

She’s in it. Fully. Completely.

And it wrecks me.

Every time she glances at me, something flickers in her eyes. Curiosity, excitement, something deeper I don’t dare put a name to. It makes my chest tight.

By the time we finish, her cheeks are flushed, her hands stained with color. Sunlight filters through the trees, catching the copper in her hair, and she looks… breathtaking.

I take a step back, taking in the canvas, but my gaze keeps drifting back to her.

“Not bad,” I murmur.

Lucy laughs, the sound warm and easy. “I think you carried most of the weight.”

I shake my head, still watching her, my voice rougher than before. “We created something beautiful.Together.”

The air between us shifts, thick with something unspoken.

I reach out without thinking, brushing a streak of blue from her cheek. She stills, her breath catching, but she doesn’t pull away. Her skin is warm beneath my fingertips, and I let my thumb linger at the delicate line of her jaw.

“I should probably clean up,” she says, her voice softer now.

“Later.” My fingers trace lower, the touch more deliberate. “Right now, I just wanna—"

I don’t finish the sentence. I don’t have to.

She closes the space between us, pressing up into me as her mouth brushes against mine. Tentative at first, testing, but I don’t hold back. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against me, letting her feel exactly how much Iwanther.

The kiss deepens, turning urgent.

She melts into me, her hands fisting in my shirt, and I groan, tilting her head back to take more. I taste the faintest hint of honey on her lips, something wild and sweet, and it undoes me.

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