“You’re crying.”
“What?” Using the back of her hand, she swiped the tear that was so close to falling, hating herself even more for allowing anything to get to her. “I didn’t even realize I was crying.”
“Would you like me to go?”
“No, no, no. Believe me. This is not about you or Ace or our agreement. I’m just … I don’t know what I am. Everything seems to be falling apart right now, and I’m so sorry.” She stared down at her hands, which were covered in dirt. “I garden when I want to relax. I had a bad phone call with my mom. It didn’t go well.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” She bit her lip. “You’re home early.”
“My last client canceled. You want to tell me about your problems? I’m a good listener.”
“It’s not important. I’m starving. Let me go and wash my hands. I got you everything you asked for.”
They made their way into her home. Brett went toward the kitchen as she used the bathroom downstairs. Washing off the mud, she quickly sanitized her hands before making her way back to find him rummaging through her cupboards.
Everything was nicely ordered within. Cans were dated and labeled. She did like some order. Also, she hated losing time trying to find something that was stuck behind a can that was completely useless. Why store tomatoes and peaches on the same shelf? One’s a dessert, the other savory?
No sense.
“Did you need me to do anything?”
“Nah, you sit your cute little ass down and I’ll cook.”
“How was work, honey?” she asked.
Brett opened up the bottle of wine, and today she didn’t care what time it was. Taking a sip of the fruity liquid, she sighed. This was the life.
“It was busy. You?”
“It was busy. I was doing okay, and then my mom called. It would seem they’ve heard about my difficulties. She’d already got me an interview with someone that I really didn’t want to work for. I know she means well. You know, her being my mother and all, but she doesn’t seem to get that I don’t want that. I don’t want to sit behind a desk all day, making the same pictures to help sell a product I don’t believe in.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.” He rounded the counter and removed her hand. He cupped her face, tilting her head back before pressing a kiss to her lips. “Feel better?”
“A little? I think I need a longer kiss.”
He chuckled, and that just did things to her. Screw dinner, she wanted dessert.
****
Dinner went off without a hitch. After Meredith unloaded on him about her troubles and a couple of glasses of wine, she was relaxed again. They made their way outside to the garden. It was late, and he knew Ace would be home, but his friend would get his day tomorrow, while he enjoyed today.
“This is nice,” she said, curled up on the chair beside him.
“I’m glad you think so.” He stroked her hair back from her face, wanting to look into her pretty eyes. She stared up at the stars. “You know you’ll get your passion back. Your parents are wrong. You don’t need to go into the corporate world.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. You’re too good to not get over this little bump.”
“I sometimes wonder if it’s a big bump at all.”
“I checked you out online, Meredith. Your stuff is amazing. Critically acclaimed and they are truly beautiful.” He patted her arm. “Come with me.”
He took her hand and led her upstairs to her studio. Standing behind her, he stared at the two women, the one with the scars on her face and the beautiful soul, the other that was the complete opposite.
“You see people, Meredith. This right here is proof of that.” He held her tightly before moving to stand in front of her. “Now I want you to paint me.”
“Come on, for real?”
“Yes. I want you to, but I warn you, I’m going to be naked. I’ve heard all about these artists. They have affairs with their subjects, break their hearts. You’ve got to stay strictly professional now.” He removed his clothes, ignoring the hardness of his dick as he turned to face her. She had already set up a canvas.
Brett didn’t like how nervous she looked. “It’s just you and me. Whatever you do, no one else is going to see. Just be yourself.”
“Well, seeing as you agreed to be my guinea pig, I suggest you get comfortable. Painting someone can take a while.”
He pulled a soft chair toward the center of the room and sat down. Leaning back, he put his hands on the arms of the chair, legs out, relaxed, and watched her. “I’m all yours to do with as you wish.”
“If I could do as I wished, I’d be riding that sweet dick of yours,” she said. “You don’t have a problem with me being a little naked, do you?”