Lace and Paint (True Colors Book 1)

by Ally Sky

  “I’ve never really taken time off for a vacation.” He thinks about it. “When I have a free weekend, I go up north.”

  “You never go on vacation?” I’m speechless. That’s certainly not the answer I was expecting.

  “I’m more of the camping kind. If I have some free time, all I need is a tent and a bonfire.” He shrugs again.

  “Holy crap.” I roll my eyes. Camping. That’s the most horrific thing I can imagine.

  “You don’t like camping.”

  “Not really. I’m more of a shopping-and-luxury-hotel girl.” I laugh out loud.

  Camping…

  “I still want your painting.” He has this great ability to jump from one subject to the next. His hand is caressing the green grass and he’s studying his fingers as they move back and forth, this guy who likes camping. A familiar tingle travels to the tips of my fingers. They want to touch his hands on the grass. Damn…

  “You can still have it,” I say, my voice low.

  “Does it have a name?” He steals a quick glance my way, then looks back to the grass.

  My painting? I’ve never thought about it.

  “Black,” I say the first thing that comes to mind.

  “Black?” he repeats, making sure he heard correctly.

  “Yes.”

  “Pearl Jam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He doesn’t add anything.

  “Black.” I repeat, loving the name I’ve chosen on a whim. Not bad.

  “You should find a job. I’ll come and drink coffee at your café.”

  “Don’t come to my café!” I stammer, petrified by the idea.

  “Don’t you want to see me?” he inquires coyly, a huge grin on his face.

  Is he flirting with me?

  “If you come and drink coffee on my shift, be prepared to leave a generous tip.” I smile. At least I’ll get something out of it.

  “So that’s what you want from me—my money?” He laughs.

  “Your money is as good as anyone else’s. I’m a smart girl. I don’t want to live off my brother’s money.” I smirk lifting an eyebrow.

  “You’re probably a terrible waitress. One of those rude-to-their-clients’ waitresses.”

  “Carry on like that, and I’ll accidentally spill your coffee on you.”

  “Pfft. Idle threats. You talk the talk but you don’t walk the walk.”

  “Really? The nerve! I mean what I say!” I don’t know whether to laugh or get angry with him.

  “Ah, words, words.” He waves dismissively.

  “Are you always so annoying?”

  “Rubbish. You love it.”

  I do love it. This man is both infuriating and charming and, knowing myself, it’s a sure recipe for trouble.

  “So now that you think you know me so well, tell me something interesting about yourself.” I take advantage of the silence between us. I’d love to discover some of his secrets.

  “What do you want to know? I’m a pretty dull guy.”

  He’s a dull guy? He wishes. But he’s provided me an opening to start asking him the questions I’m desperate to know the answers to.

  “How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” I rest my chin on my knees again and stare at him, waiting. He looks at me, startled. Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him that?

  “I had a girlfriend for almost two years and, then, it ended.” He averts his gaze from me, staring instead at the people walking down the path. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, but I don’t intend on cutting him any slack. I want to know.

  “Why did it end?” My arms are still hugging my legs.

  “We wanted different things. I was thinking more in the direction of a family and children, but she was more interested in the direction of India,” he replies and my heart skips a beat. Family and children?

  He wanted to marry her.

  “Did she leave?” My voice sounds tighter than I expected.

  “Yes.” He returns his gaze to me, his green eyes solemn.

  “You wanted to marry her?” I try to conceal my shock at this latest discovery.

  “It wasn’t like that. It’s complicated,” he answers quietly, running his hand over the grass. He doesn’t look at me again, only at his hand, going back and forth.

  “It always is,” I murmur. “So now you’re convincing yourself you’re better off on your own?”

  God, he was really serious about this Jenny, something bad happened there.

  “Your choice of words is impressive,” he mumbles.

  “Thank you.” I’m not sure that was a compliment though. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

  I’m determined, unsure if I'll get another opportunity to ask him. And I want to know everything about him.

  “I’m not made out for all that shit. Not right now.”

  His words confuse me. “What shit?”

  “You know. Relationships. Too much of a headache.”

  “And I have an issue with intimacy?” I ask.

  “It just isn’t my thing,” he answers his tone flat. “So what happened to you that you ran off to London?” He doesn’t want to speak about her anymore.

  “What’s the matter with you? Will you stop saying ‘ran off’?” I’m still trying to get my head around the idea that he nearly married this Jenny.

  “Maybe you’ll stop justifying it. What happened?” He’s not going to let it go. He’s eager to find out everything. Same as I am about him.

  I sigh. “Lots of things.”

  “Is it because of a guy?”

  His question causes my body to tighten up immediately. I really don’t want to get into this with him. I’ve come to realize he has the ability to pry things out of me, but this subject is just too heavy.

  “I don’t know. I think it’s more because of me. Until two months ago, I had a boyfriend, and it ended badly.” There’s no point in giving him any more details. I don’t want to disclose my whole past to him. Not now, not ever.

  “Something serious?”

  “I don’t think so. Just another bastard.” I shrug. Better to be vague.

  “Bastard?”

  “Yeah. I do know how to find them.”

  “It didn’t end well with the bastard?” he continues, ignoring my evasiveness.

  “Not really.” My voice is low and I feel uncomfortable.

  “What happened?”

  My pulse races. I try to hide from him how uncomfortable this conversation is making me.

  “I told him too much about myself and he left, after being a real shit to me.” My voice is almost a whisper. It’s so humiliating.

  “Talia, you’re an amazing girl. You shouldn’t let anyone treat you like that.” His words surprise me and I look at him, trying to control the beating of my heart. Did he say I was amazing?

  “You need to see a doctor.”

  “You seriously don’t know how to receive a compliment.” This guy is getting me into more trouble by the minute.

  “It’s only from experience,” I mumble quietly.

  “What kind of experience?”

  “That if someone says something nice to you, he must want something from you.” I give him a piercing look. “That’s usually what it’s about.”

  “Jesus, Talia, what kind of scum do you hang out with?” he sighs, frustrated. Why is he frustrated about the scum I hang out with? And why is this conversation becoming so serious?

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Okay.” He smiles. “So now that you’re in London, can you take a break from your misery? It’s time you had some fun, don’t you think?”

  I’ll be damned. Take a break from my misery? That’s what he thinks about me? I can be fun! I know I can, I don’t need his pity.

  Maybe it’s time I showed him.

  “I definitely plan on having some fun.” I raise one eyebrow mischievously and his eyes grow wide with surprise.

  “You plan on having fun? Are you sure you know h
ow to, what with your tendency to constantly run away?”

  My jaw drops. I don’t know how to have fun? We’ll see about that! My demons raise their heads and take a peek. They can smell the challenge and they’re grinning their devilish smiles.

  Large raindrops catch us by surprise. The rain soaks the grass and chases all the people from their paths.

  Ben stands up. I continue sitting and my smile broadens. He wanted fun…

  “It’s time to go, girl.” He looks at me, suddenly unsure. I stare at him and don’t get up.

  “Talia,” he tries to hurry me up. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s just a little rain. Don’t tell me you’re afraid?” His confused expression amuses me.

  “God, Talia, you’ll catch a cold!”

  “Bullshit. That’s just an old wives’ tale.”

  “Come on, get up already!” I notice his stiff body, the bewildered look on his face. I stand up but don’t budge. My demons are gluing my feet to the ground.

  “I’m up. Happy now?” The rain is falling more heavily and the familiar fragrance of wet soil fills the air, cloying and evocative.

  Ben’s disconcerted gaze never leaves me as I take a few slow steps away from the tree. Stood under the sky I stretch my arms out to the sides and close my eyes, lifting my face, letting the rain wash over me.

  “You’re crazy!” Ben roars with laughter. He’s no longer alarmed. “What’s gotten into you?”

  You have—with your gorgeous eyes and your broken heart and all the things you do.

  “Talia, you’re soaking wet!” Ben can’t stop laughing. I open my eyes and turn to him. “What?”

  “Come here,” I nod invitingly, a huge smile on my face. “I’m having fun. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “You’re insane!” he exclaims.

  “My doctor would agree with you,” I laugh. “Now stop being so serious. It’s just a little rain.”

  He dawdles for another moment, then takes a few long steps and stands next to me.

  I hold my breath at his closeness.

  “Here, I’m wet, happy now?” He has a huge grin on his face. His grey sweater is soaked and raindrops are falling from his short, brown hair onto his perfect cheekbones.

  “Yes.” I stretch my arms out again and close my eyes. “You wish I’d run off now, huh?”

  The rain pours down, soaking us to the bone. I don’t mind. I wouldn’t mind standing here in the rain all night, with him.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “About what you said yesterday, about you wanting to be my friend.” My eyes are still closed. It’s much easier speaking to him like this, without drowning in his green eyes.

  “What about that?” He’s curious.

  “Nothing really. I’m just not too sure about it,” I answer coolly. I know exactly where I’m heading with this conversation. He wants fun. He wants to play. So I’m taking it to the next level.

  “You’re not too sure about what?”

  Okay, he may be good-looking, but he’s quite naïve.

  “I just don’t know. Being friends…I’m not sure what that means. There’s no such thing as friends. It’s too complicated. You have to think about every word you say. I can’t live like that. It just isn’t my thing.” I carry on, seemingly indifferent, while trying to appease the storm inside of me.

  “It isn’t your thing?” I sense the smile in his voice as he eagerly latches onto my words.

  “It isn’t my thing.” I repeat the words he seems to enjoy.

  “So what is your thing?” He’s utterly intrigued now.

  “I can’t tell you,” I grin widely.

  “Give me a clue,” he says, trying to extract any information I might throw his way. Can’t he see I’m toying with him?

  “I’m unpredictable. You never know what I’m going to do next. I guess I’ll have to find someone who wants to find out.”

  “Find out what?”

  So naïve…or so curious, that he can’t get his hand out of the cookie jar.

  “Just how crazy I can be…”

  “So you don’t enjoy hanging out with me?”

  “I don’t understand what ‘hanging out’ means. Listen, I’m a naughty girl.

  I’m a flirt. I like having a good time and I’m not stuck in an office seven days a week, like someone I know. But none of that should interest you.” I wave my hand dismissively.

  “So we can’t be friends?” He sounds…disappointed. Does he really want to hang out with me?

  “You don’t want to be my friend.” After a while, I open my eyes and turn my head toward him. Our eyes meet. My heart is racing. We’re both standing there, drenched, our eyes locked. Water runs down his cheeks. He looks like someone who’s going to give me a lot of grief.

  “Are you crazy with your friends?” His eyes never leave my face, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his clinging sweater.

  “Totally crazy,” I whisper. Rain continues to pound down, but neither of us seems to care.

  “But what if I’m willing to take a chance?” he asks. Boom. He’s fallen into the trap.

  “To let me be crazy? And flirty?” I smile, my lips curling at the corners.

  “I think you said naughty, as well…”

  “Are you sure?” I raise a suspicious brow.

  “As long as you understand I’m not planning on becoming your boyfriend. And you don’t tell Danny and get me into trouble.”

  “About Danny, I promise not to say anything. But I’m not promising I won’t get you into trouble,” I laugh loudly.

  “Oh, God…” He chuckles his charming laugh and I look at him with a huge grin. It’s on.

  We walk to the house and stop outside Danny’s white front door.

  “Are you coming in?” I ask, looking at him through long lashes.

  “Absolutely not. Your brother wouldn’t approve,” he answers promptly, unable to hide his smile.

  “Okay, so have a great, dry evening.” I lift my head, smiling back at him.

  “You too. Don’t get up to too much mischief.”

  “Ha, you love my mischief.” I wave my hand dismissively.

  “I have to admit you’re fun when you go crazy.” His laugh makes my heart melt.

  “I love being crazy. Stick around. I have a feeling you’re going to find out just how crazy I can be.”

  “Just don’t get me into trouble.” He smiles playfully. Goddamn, I’m the one who’s getting herself into trouble.

  “You love my trouble. And now me and my trouble-making skills are going to get dry.”

  I give him one last smile, open the door, and go inside.

  In the shower my stupid smile won’t leave my face. He let me flirt with him...I turn off the water, quickly drying myself before lying down on my welcoming bed, diving under the blankets. That was surprising, and fun. The irritating guy is actually amazing.

  Sunday

  May 27ᵗʰ 2012

  Going to Battle

  So much has happened in such a short time.

  An innocent stroll in the park turned out to be the start of my next adventure. I’m not giving up. For once in my fucking life, I am not watching miserably from the sidelines as my heart gets smashed to pieces.

  Does he think I’m fun when I’m crazy? I’ll show him crazy. I’m crazy about him, every minute of the day. I want to feel him on top of me. I want to sleep next to him at night. I want to feel him inside of me. And I’m going for it, going for broke. I don’t care about his protests or reservations. I’ll show him what flirting and seducing are all about. I’m going for it with all my might, with everything I’ve got. And I’m going to rock his world, drive him nuts until he falls at my feet, begging for more. I’m recruiting any good ideas. Responses will be more than welcome. Be creative, original, seductive, sly, and don’t go far, because you may find your ideas coming alive.

  It’s going to be a hot summer!

  Talula

&nb
sp; I’m lying in bed. I’ve been awake for over an hour. It’s Monday morning and I can’t get the goofy smile off my face. I can’t ignore my dramatic mood swing. Yesterday, the only thing I wanted to do was hide out in the basement, and now I’m hugging my pillow. A picture of Ben, standing next to me at the park, drenched with the rain, is stuck in my head.

  He said he doesn’t want a girlfriend. Something happened with his last one. He wanted marriage and kids, and she left for India.

  I just don’t know what to make of it. And, as a matter of fact, at this very moment, lying in bed with his image stuck in my head, I don’t really care. At this stage I don’t really care much about anything—not that he’s Danny’s friend, or his boss, or any other definition they may decide on. I don’t care that I’ve only known him for a short while, and that half of that time he’s annoyed me. All I want to do now is see him again and drive him insane, so that he’ll change his mind and want me.

  It’s ten when I finally pull myself out of bed and indulge in a long shower, allowing the water to flow over my body. Thinking about him sends seductive tingles through my entire body.

  I throw on a loose shirt and dark jeans and go to the empty kitchen. Danny and John are at work. I make myself a cup of coffee and go outside to smoke a cigarette. The rain hasn’t stopped since yesterday. I sit down on the spacious sofa and watch as it waters the garden.

  I power up my laptop, light my first cigarette, and inhale deeply. Yesterday I invited my blog followers to participate in a game. Let’s see if anyone has come up with an interesting idea. Regardless, it’s still early. I’m pretty sure no one has even read it yet…

  Wow! What the hell is this? I press refresh. No way—there must be a mistake.

  The page comes up again. Nope. No mistake. Twenty-three new responses. What the hell?

  Response from Carrie Bradshaw: What’s wrong with being single at the age of forty?! Cut the crap and go party!!!

  Sweet. Carrie Bradshaw. Stick to your Manolo Blahniks, Carrie, and try not to fall off your heels when things get wild. I continue reading the comments. Boring…boring…What happened to ‘creative and original’?