Page 44 of Paint Me Love
But the timing just hasn’t been right. We’ve been having so much fun, he’s been smiling a lot. So, I’ll keep it a secret, I think. He’s accepted his downfall, and I don’t want to risk it all falling apart because of the truth.
The next day, I wrap up my meeting early, so I can watch Daniel paint. I’m excited like a kid about to walk into a toy shop, and Jared makes sure to point that out as I head over to the underground parking.
I have it bad, don’t I?
Unable to help a smirk, I turn the engine on and dial Daniel’s number.
“Hi,” he replies after three beeps.
“Hi, little artist. I just finished work and am on my way to your place. What do you want for dinner?”
Silence. I pause at the gate, frowning at my dashboard.
“Hello? Daniel?”
“Uh, I’m already on my way to Jesse’s studio for a drawing class. Maybe you can stop by tomorrow?”
My blood turns to ice. This Jesse guy again. “Who’s Jesse exactly?”
“You don’t remember him? He’s the artist who did the pretty desert mural. We’ve been helping each other get better at composition.”
I knew Daniel was doing art classes, but I didn’t realize it was one of the other winners from the mural competition. I hit the gas and turn left instead of right, my destination updated to the gallery. I need to look up this Jesse guy.
“Can you go another day?” I ask, cursing internally at a pedestrian who tries to get run over by me.
“He only has classes two times a week. I don’t want to miss it.”
It irks me. My little artist is usually so eager to see me, so how come he’s turning me down today? Something is off.
“See you tomorrow, Derek,” Daniel says and hangs up before I can guilt-trip him into canceling his plans.
Well, that’s a first. My mood tanks as I exit my car and stand next to it, not sure what to do. Maybe I should’ve called or texted him earlier… but I wanted to surprise him, and I wasn’t sure I’d manage to get off work earlier.
Disappointment settles across me. I’m used to people going out of their way to accommodate me, but if he’s busy, he’s busy. There’s nothing I can do short of showing up at the studio and making a scene. But my PR department doesn’t need that kind of a headache, so I bite down the irritation and reel myself in. It’s fine, I’ve got a million other things I can do.
Except that no matter what productive scenario plays out in my head, five minutes later I’m inside the gallery so I can stare at Daniel’s paintings.
Two days later, I finally get to visit my artist. I’m brimming with excitement even if tendrils of disappointment still lurk insideme that Daniel didn’t rearrange his entire week so I could’ve watched him paint earlier.
Oh, well. I’ll let him off, but only because of the beaming smile he’s currently flashing at me.
“Promise you won’t distract me,” he chastises as he lets me in.
The sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies invades my nostrils. “Did you bake these?” I point at the tray of gooey goodness perched on the table.
“Yep, to keep your hands and mouth occupied if you get bored.”
I grin. “I can think of better ways to do that.” They do smell divine, though.
He raises his finger and waves it. “Nuh-uh. Bad idea. This is precisely why I took some measures.” He points at himself. “This is off-limits for the next two hours. The cookies will have to do.”
“I didn’t know you could bake.” I snatch one, suffering an immediate mouth orgasm the moment I take a bite. “Fuck, they are amazing.”
He smirks triumphantly and adjusts his easel, which is positioned next to the desk with his art supplies. “Don’t assume you know everything about me, Derek.”
A thrill rushes down my back. There it is—the sass that drew me toward him. But despite his joke and the smirk on his face, something in his tone clutches my stomach. It’s like he meant his words as a challenge, as something meant to oppose me. I wonder what that’s about.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
