Page 97 of Beside Golden Irish Fields
They all nodded their heads in agreement, and that feeling of being able to walk on air showed up again. She embraced it. “I’ve had classes before where all of the students suddenly become a community. I think we’ve reached that, don’t you? So, I’ll tell you what I think, Bets. I talked to Donal in the pub the same day of the streaking, and I have to say, I think he’s crazy about you. I don’t know him, but he seems like a man you could depend on. If he said he’d go to Paris, I suspect he meant it.”
“Dammit.” Bets looked down at her blue sneakers. “He told me to take my time getting over my suspicions, if you can believe it. That he was happy to court me without setting another date. He’s had his father bringing up little presents for me since he knows I didn’t want anyone in the village to know. That clearly didn’t work.”
“I vote for going out with him again, Bets,” Nicola said, “and I think Angie should dedicate a couple classes to nudes. Who else is up for it?”
“I’d need a picture,” Siobhan said with a sly smile. “I don’t draw well from memory.”
“Maybe we can have them show up as real-life models,” Angie said with a smirk. She held up a hand when a few people let out a whoop. “I was kidding.”
“I’m not,” Siobhan said with a wink. “It would help my artistic nature.”
“Sure it would. It can’t be worse than my first class in college. The life model got an erection suddenly and blurted out, ‘Up periscope.’ He’d been in the Navy. Girls, you can have Eoghan but no one else.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Yank,” Nicola said, her lips twitching. “Pictures of our men, it is.”
She looked at Bets, who was trying not to laugh. “Up periscope. That’s a good one! See, I told you teaching a class on nudes was likely.”
Inevitable was more like it. “Are we sure we’re good to do this? I don’t want it to be a strike against you when you put in the application for the arts center.”
“Demand for classes shot up after the streaking,” Bets said. “We’re good to go. Besides, Donal is on the county council, and he was part of such shenanigans. I think we’re safe.”
“I agree,” Nicola said. “Every shop has posted a flyer about your gallery showing in my bookstore. Bets, people have been complimenting the gorgeous new flyer about our arts center too.”
God, she loved this town. Between Carrick and her work, she’d already told Bets she wanted to stay longer than the six months allowed by her visa. Bets had promised they’d figure it out.
Still, the Lucky Charms weren’t her only students in the class, just the most outspoken. She knew nudes didn’t work for everyone, so she looked around the room and said, “I want everyone to be comfortable. If it’s not something that interests you, we can easily arrange for you to attend another class.”
“Anyone want to transfer?” Bets asked.
Not a single woman raised her hand. “Fine. Let me talk a little about drawing and painting anatomy since the still lifes don’t seem to be capturing your imagination.”
Truly, she couldn’t blame them. Wasn’t it Carrick who’d awoken something in her? She thought about all the rainy mornings she’d painted him. She had a whole paint pad full of him, and they were as good as they were sizzling. His body was stupendous, both as a subject and as a lover.
“Need a glass of water too, dear?” Siobhan asked with a laugh. “You look a bit flushed.”
A blush spread across her cheeks. She’d been thinking about Brigid’s son in the buff right in front of the woman! “I’m fine. Let’s talk about the human body.”
She fell back into a more clinical recitation, and some of the women’s eyes seemed to cross. When she ditched the academic routine and pulled up a vintage photo of a male nude and started to paint it as a demonstration, she had them enthralled. Given all her recent practice with Carrick, she was in her element. When she finished, the whole class cheered.
“My God, Angie,” Bets exclaimed, crowding the painting with everyone else. “You need to have some nudes in your gallery showing.”
“It’s only two weeks away,” she said, biting her lip. “I have a theme. Hands and eyes—”
“And cocks,” Nicola breathed. “The non-rooster kind. Oh, to see Mary Kincaid’s face.”
Her students burst out laughing, but she studied the painting. The man filled the canvas almost as if he owned it, the brushstrokes powerful and bold. His green eyes commanded attention—like someone else she knew—and his body seemed to assert itself. Even she couldn’t look away.
“Next show for sure.” Because she didn’t doubt there would be one. She rubbed her fingers together, wanting to paint more. “I’d want to have the time to paint properly.”
“You did that nude in fifteen minutes,” Bets said. “I’d say you’re on a roll.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice—” Oh shit, had she said that out loud? “Never mind.”
A few of the women grinned as Bets patted her on the back. “Good for you, dear.”
She held her cousin’s gaze. She pointedly did not look at Brigid. “You might try it yourself.”
“I might at that.” She turned her head swiftly. “Do you hear that?”
