Shrugging, he said, “She’s a beautiful woman. But I don’t know her.”
“You could get to know her.”
Myles had thought about the concept of “getting to know” Aria since he’d met her. But something always stopped him from asking her out. He’d seen her several times since the sip and paint, but they’d only shared superficial conversation. Even at Afternoon Delight, when he was seated so close to her that he could smell the hint of jasmine on her skin and see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, they’d really only talked about things that didn’t matter, safe subjects that wouldn’t challenge their worldviews.
He tore his eyes away from his sister and peered back up at the painting, at Aria. “We’re very different. I’m sure we have nothing in common.” Except he instinctively knew he was wrong. His music, her art.
“Sometimes opposites make the best soul mates. Look at Bai and Ian. Completely different, hopelessly in love.”
He snickered, thinking back to Ian and the way Bailee seemingly dropped into his lap. As happy as he was for his brothers, he hadn’t fooled himself into thinking the same would happen to him. His life wasn’t a romantic comedy. “A fluke,” he responded dryly. “It’s not an everyday occurrence.”
“True, but look at Love and Drake, El and Avery... Life isn’t a fairy tale, yes, but it can be fulfilling, and you can find love.”
Mel had always believed in fairy tales, true love against all odds. He suspected that had a lot to do with the protective bubble they’d wrapped around her from the moment she was born. His sister was a princess of sorts. They’d kept her from a lot of pain, hidden so many of life’s trials from her.
For years, she didn’t realize that their father had spent years having an affair with Drake’s mother, while married to Myles and Ian’s mother. Mel didn’t know that Dr. Law had never been faithful to her own mother, his current wife. She had no idea that Dr. Law had offered to pay Avery off if she left El or that their father tampered with Drake’s career to get him away from Love until both relationships were on solid ground.
In hindsight, he figured they should have let her experience the trials and tribulations of real life, but they couldn’t bear to dim the light always present in her doe eyes. He hoped that she always believed in possibilities.
“I’m not looking for love, Mel.”
“I’m going to hook you two up. She’s single, you’re single. You’re both attractive. And she’s smarter than a fifth grader.”
He laughed, pulling his sister into a hug. “Stop. Am I ever going to live that down?”
“Never,” she said.
They continued their tour through the exhibit, checking out the various paintings, looking for meaning in the colors and forms. The final painting was breathtaking, a phoenix rising from the ashes. He’d seen similar renderings on T-shirts and in print media, but the phoenix in Aria’s picture wasn’t a bird-like creature. It was a mythical, beautiful brown superhero. It was her, nude and floating midair. It was her, with her thin waist, long legs, full breasts and majestic, massive wings of flames behind her. At the same time, long feathers covered her breasts and her core. The fire flared from her skin and her hair, sparked from her fingertips. Smoke billowed in the background. There were cracks on her skin, battle wounds. But it was her eyes—red, burning and bright—looking at him, that held him mesmerized. The painting was so vivid it felt animated, like he could reach out and feel the heat of the flames. He felt pain, struggle, redemption and victory.
“Wow,” he whispered. He wasn’t sure which painting spoke to him the most, the first one or the last. But both evoked palpable emotions.
“I know,” Mel said. “I bet Love is in heaven right now.”
Myles smiled, scanning the room for his sister-in-law. He spotted her over by the first painting, noticed Love wiping tears from her eyes as she stared up at the portrait. Across the room, near the entrance to the room, Aria stood watching everyone as they reacted to her art.
His gaze roamed over her tall, lean frame. She was lovely in every way. From her black leather boots to her wild, colorful hair. But it was her smile—genuine and bright—that stopped him in his tracks. He felt like he’d caught a glimpse of a priceless treasure, glimmering like gold. The only problem? It wasn’t shining on him. Instead, it was directed at some other man.
Aria hugged the man, who’d never been far from her the entire night. Myles had noticed them together right away. They were comfortable with each other, but he couldn’t put his finger on who he was to her. Were they friends or lovers? Coworkers? Was the man with the dreads her agent?
“Let’s go over and talk to Aria?” Mel pulled him toward the entrance.
By the time they made it over to them, Avery and El had joined them. They were all smiling now, chatting excitedly about the work.
Aria’s smile didn’t falter when he approached them, though. Instead, she met his gaze full on. “Myles, I’m glad you came.”
“You’re amazing.” He pretended not to notice the look Avery and Mel exchanged, and figured they’d talked about him and the possible love connection Mel had previously mentioned to him. “I’m glad I came, too.”
Aria averted her gaze for a moment before returning it to him. “Thanks. Brent, you know Mel. This is her brother, Myles.”
“Ah, the serious twin,” Brent mused. “I’ve heard about you.”
Briefly Myles wondered what Brent could have heard about him when he had no clue who this guy was. But instead of racking his brain with the possibilities, he held out his hand and gave Brent some dap. “Good to meet you. I’m guessing you already met my brother Ian, the fun twin.”
Aria laughed, and Myles memorized the melody. “That’s funny. Is this your way of confirming you’re no fun?”
“He’s fun,” Mel responded—a little too loudly. “He’s so much fun.”
Myles looked down at Mel and pleaded with her to stop with his eyes. Apparently, she got the hint because she closed her mouth and walked away. Turning to Aria, he simply said, “I’m fun enough. But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you get back to your guests.”
Myles had always been known as the twin who never really let loose. Ian had always been the one people wanted to be around, the star football player, the brother who wasn’t afraid to jump into the water with clothes on. Although Myles played baseball all through school, enjoyed going to games and other social events with his brothers, he’d always preferred being alone with his music or working. It had never really bothered Myles to be known as the serious twin. Until now.
As the event wound down, Myles found himself back before the first painting. He examined the surface, imagined how Aria had looked while she created it. How was it possible that she’d captured something so real, so raw?
“It’s my favorite.”
Myles turned to find Aria standing next to him, peering up at her own work. When did she get here?
“It was my capstone project in my undergrad program. I spent weeks in the studio staring at a blank canvas. I didn’t want it to be ordinary, but I wanted it to mean something.”
“I’d say you accomplished that goal.”
“I hope we didn’t offend you back there, calling you the serious twin.”
“No. I’m not easily offended. And it’s the truth. I am serious, and Ian is fun.”
She bit her lip. “Still, I just hope it didn’t come off like an insult.”
“Is Brent an artist, too?”
“He is.” She smiled. “A tattoo artist. He owns InkTown Tattoos.”
“The business next to Cocktails and Canvas?”
“That’s the one. We’re partners. He’s actually the person who convinced me to move back to the area.”
Myles turned his attention back up to the painting. He wanted to ask her if Brent was her man but decided to keep his mouth shut.
“What are you working on now?” he asked, wanting to keep her there with him for a little while longer.
“I’m showing at the University of Michigan Museum of Art for Black History Month, so I’m finishing up the installation for that space. And I’m also working on something for Avery.”
“Sweet. Must be exciting.”
“I can’t deny it’s been rewarding to be recognized for my work. I set my goals high, and I feel honored to be in this space.” They stood in silence for another moment before she asked. “You keep staring at the painting.”
“What can I say, it speaks to me?”
“What is it saying?”
Somehow, this conversation, this interaction was more intimate than he’d expected. And if he admitted how this picture made him feel, it would change things between them.
“Probably not what you intended,” he said. “Art means different things to different people. That’s the point, right?”
“I’d like to hear what you think. How does this painting speak to you?”
Myles peered up at the masterpiece and thought of a safe answer, one that wouldn’t generate more questions. “She has two sides. One side conforms to rules imposed on her and the other side makes the rules. One side represents creativity, while the other represents conforming to others’ expectations. One side is sweet, the other is wild. One part of her is dying.”
“Why?” she asked.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noted the tremor in her hand as she gripped her throat.
“Why do you think that?” Aria said.
“Because she’s being swallowed up by the dream of freedom. Which is a good thing. But the desire to please, the need to be what people expect never really goes away.” And he knew it all too well because he’d lived it himself. “This painting...it’s the only one that doesn’t have a price tag on it.”
“It’s not for sale.”
He turned to her and found her studying him with a curious expression on her face. “Why not sell it?”
She shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Because it’s mine. It’s me. It reminds me of where I came from and where I’m going. And it belongs on my wall.”
“That’s understandable.”
A woman walked over to them and whispered something in Aria’s ear. Once the woman was gone, Aria turned to him. “I’m sorry. I need to go handle something.”
“Certainly.”
She hurried off across the room to where an older man was waiting. Myles watched as Aria shook the man’s hand and led him over to one of the paintings on the far side of the room. Making his way back over to the Phoenix, he glanced down at the placard near the base of the canvas.
Myles pulled out his phone and typed a text. For the first time in his life, he was going to follow his gut and make an impulsive decision.
* * *
Aria walked into the Charles H. Wright Museum the next morning. The opening had been a huge success, and she’d agreed to meet her agent to discuss the business of art, more specifically, whether she was able to make any sales.
Stella was chatting with the curator of the museum, when she entered the exhibit. Once she spotted Aria, she grinned. “We just sold the Phoenix.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Stella held up her phone. “The transfer went through minutes ago.”
As elated as Aria was to sell a piece of her artwork, the Phoenix meant a lot to her. Early on in her career, she would cry each time she’d sold a piece. It was hard to let them go. Still, she’d soon realized that she couldn’t keep every single painting. The purpose of creating was to share.
“How exciting!” Aria said. She stepped up to the painting in question, ran her thumb over the edge. “I’ll miss this one.”
“Well, you’ll always have the ink on your side to remind you of her.”
Stella had taken a chance by signing Aria a little over a year ago, after the debacle with Holloway. She’d helped her through the breakup and the subsequent investigation, and proved to be an invaluable ally and someone Aria considered a friend.
“Did we get asking price?” Aria said.
“We sure did.”
“That’s even better. Who is the buyer?”
“Actually, he’s still here. I told him you were on your way, and he wanted to meet with you.”
Aria craned her neck around, scanning the immediate area for people. The room was empty. Turning to Stella, she asked, “Did he say what he wanted to meet with me about?”
“No, but he’s a hottie. I noticed him at the opening last night.”
Aria tried to picture the men in attendance. She’d made it a point to talk to each person who came so it could be anyone. “Young or old?”
“Young.”
“Another artist?”
Stella shook her head. “No. Definitely not an artist.”
“Definitely not,” a male voice from behind her said.
It wasn’t just anybody’s voice, and the raspy sound of it made her stomach do an odd flip. She turned slowly and met the amused eyes of Myles Jackson.
“Myles.”
“Aria.” He stepped closer. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she breathed. “You bought one of my paintings?”
“I did.”
Stella stepped in. “And we’re so elated that you loved the Phoenix. And we appreciate your understanding in keeping it here at the museum until the exhibit is over.”
It wasn’t uncommon for art buyers to purchase a piece of art and allow the artist to keep it for showings. And since that particular work was important to the overall collection, Aria appreciated that Myles was willing to leave it there.
“Yes, thank you,” Aria said.
“I’m going to leave you two alone.” Stella squeezed Aria’s arms before she left the room.
“You look surprised that I would purchase your work.” He approached her until they were standing mere inches apart. Too close.
Aria retreated back a few steps. “No, I knew you loved my signature piece because we talked about it.”
One of the things that had stuck with her from last night was the conversation with Myles. When she’d asked him to tell her why Metamorphosis spoke to him, she’d expected... She didn’t even know what she’d expected. But she certainly hadn’t thought he’d speak on it so eloquently. Normally when people tried to explain her paintings, it came out practiced, almost like they’d opened a textbook and read up on words to use to describe artwork. But Myles... He was so spot-on it felt like he’d split her open and squeezed her heart.
“I loved this one, too.”
“I can’t thank you enough. Your support means a lot to me.”
“No need to thank me.”
“No, seriously. Myles, the painting is not cheap.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She giggled. “I guess you are. Stella told me you wanted to meet me. So, I thought the purchaser was someone I didn’t know.”
“Last night wasn’t a good time to discuss your work. You had to entertain your guests.”
She took a seat on a bench, and he followed her, sitting next to her. “What did you want to discuss?”
“I’ll admit I have a keen interest in the art, but I’m also intrigued by the artist.”
Aria blinked. “The artist?” she croaked. “Me?”
“You.”
“As in my creative process?”
“That, too.”
She let out a slow breath. Damn.
“Have dinner with me?”
She frowned, still unable to believe this turn of events. Myles Jackson had just asked her out to dinner. On a date. Just the two of them. Admittedly, she was attracted to him. He’d stoked something in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe forever? But...could she date him
? They didn’t have anything in common. He was so buttoned up, and she was not. It would be over before it started. And what would they talk about exactly? Her art could only keep the conversation going for so long before it became stilted.
“Aria?” His voice was soft, calm.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just confused. You asked me out.”
“For dinner.” His lips quirked up into a sexy half smile. “How is that confusing?”
“I...um. I can’t go out with you.”
“Are you seeing someone else? The man at the exhibit?”
“Brent?” Aria laughed. “He’s like my brother.”
“Good. Let me take you out.”
She jumped up and paced the floor. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’re Myles. I’m friends with your sisters. I’m not sure—because I’ve never really had girlfriends—but I think that’s against the Girlfriend Code or something.”
“Yeah.” Myles tapped his chin. “That’s not a thing.”
“Okay, but it would be awkward with them if—”
“It’s dinner. Not a wedding.”
“But we’re so different.”
He stood and walked toward her. “So different that we can’t eat a meal together?”
Aria couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You’re funny.”
“I don’t think anyone has ever told me that before,” he said to her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I am the serious twin.”
When he chuckled, she shoved him playfully. “You got jokes.”
He barked out a full laugh then. “Only with you.”
For some reason, she believed him. And that little admission made her want to say yes even more than she already did. “I’m not surprised often, Dr. Jackson, but you really shocked me today.”
“Why? Is it so hard to believe I’d want to take you out?”
“Actually, yes. Like I said, we’re very different.”
“Is this your way of telling me no?”
She tilted her head and assessed him. She was sure it would be a mistake to do anything with him alone. Especially with the way her nerve endings were sparking to life in his presence. Oh, and the heat that had coated her insides at the sound of his voice. But she surprised herself when she said, “Lunch? Saturday.”
Spark of Desire ; All for You Page 25
