Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)

“Amazingly bad?” She joked, anything to keep the moment light, to delay finding out what he really thought.

She so wanted to know. And she so didn’t want to know ever.

“No.” He shook his head, his expression incredulous. “Amazingly good. You’re talented, Blake.”

She stiffened, feeling defensive. “You sound surprised.”

“I am surprised, only because you’ve kept this hidden. How long have you been painting?”

“I don’t know. A couple of years?” She shrugged, trying for casual.

No way could she show how much his words meant to her. Not yet. And she knew exactly how long she’d been painting seriously.

Since college, when she snuck art classes in unbeknownst to her parents. She’d work

on her political studies and all that other crap her father forced her to take, but the art classes had been just for her. Art history, art theory, a ceramics class, all of it had been wonderful. Life-changing.

And so, here she was. The closet artist.

“It’s beautiful and the colors are so life-like.” He nodded toward the painting. “I don’t know much about art or composition or all the stuff that goes with it, but I know when I like something. I like this.”

Her heart sang at his compliment and the smile that broke out was so big it felt as if it were stretching her cheeks. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

She tackled him, the loud ‘oomph’ that he gave showing his surprise and she wrapped her arms around him, raining little kisses all over his jaw and chin.

“What’s that for?” He held her away from him, his hands curling around her shoulders, gently stroking and she beamed up at him.

Blake laughed, feeling foolish and she pulled away from him, did a silly little dance. “No one has ever said that about my art before.”

His lips parted. “You’re kidding me.”

“Well, I’ve never actually showed any of it before. To anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced away, a little uncomfortable. “I was afraid of what they might say.”

He actually snorted. “Well, that’s ridiculous. They’d say you’re very talented. Because you are.”

He said it so matter of fact, as if she had no reason to doubt herself. “It’s not that easy, Mason. The people in my life, they wouldn’t approve.”

“Why not? Blake, if you worked hard enough you could probably show your paintings in an art gallery. I think you’re that good.”

She laughed again, both nervous and excited. The idea of showing her art to various strangers mingling in a gallery was so surreal she couldn’t wrap her head around it. “I don’t think so. I’m not that good. And besides, my father wouldn’t approve.”

“Why wouldn’t he? You have talent and you should do something with it. I think he’d want that for you, especially if it makes you happy.”

She studied him, realization dawning with every word he just spoke. “You see things very black and white don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s either this. Or that. No shades of gray, no in between for you.”

He thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“I don’t see anything that way.” She smiled but it felt weak, and suddenly she was so weary. “There are always shades of gray in my life, because I can’t take anyone for their word. If my father saw my paintings, I know he wouldn’t approve. He doesn’t approve of anything I do. That’s why I keep this part of me a secret. If he found out about my art and disapproved, that would cut me to the quick.”