by Alicia Rae
The picture was stunning with its array of blue shades and hints of white in the sky, which were artistically centering around all the different yellow hues making up the sun. I could see every stroke the brush had made, and I appreciated the areas where the painter had flawlessly blended the colors. Golds and beiges of the sand ran from the bottom left all the way to the right, leading to the dock. The wood was painted with shades of light and dark browns, showing every detail in the planks, including natural wear. The water glowed in the center with a mixture of pastel and royal blues. My eyes continued to take in the green pine trees outlining the lake that I personally knew so well.
Gazing at the painting instantly made me wish that I could visit the beach and press my toes into the fine warm summer sand. Then, once my body was heated from the sun shining brightly, I imagined walking along that wooden dock to jump into the cool blue water.
It was one of the finest paintings I had seen come through these doors in quite some time—and the three-thousand-dollar price tag matched it. I frowned, wishing I could justify the purchase, but it was simply way too much.
“Wow,” Gail breathed. Then, she sighed, and I knew she had seen the price. “And it has a steep price tag to go with it.”
“Yeah, it does,” I whispered, still gazing at the amazing portrait.
Gail continued to walk along the wall while I stayed rooted in my spot, staring ahead. I heard the door chime from a distance, but my eyes were locked on the painting. It was my fondest childhood memory painted on canvas, and I had to repeat over and over in my mind that it was too substantial of a purchase even if I did love it. I silently prayed that maybe the artist would lower the price if it did not sell over time. Waiting it out and hoping it did not sell to another interested buyer would be my best chance.
“James LaBloom—he’s a very gifted artist,” someone said from behind me. His low and deep tone was filled with appreciation.
My heart stuttered from the familiar voice, and it instantly broke my concentration.
I turned slightly toward the voice to meet a pair of sky-blue eyes that had been burned into my memory. They were the same eyes I’d been trying to forget over the past day.
Jason.
My lips parted to speak, but to my surprise, no words left them.
“He’s well known for taking any landscape and creating a masterpiece from a blank canvas and a paintbrush,” he added, staring intently at me.
My heart made the same jump as it had yesterday.
“You know his work?” I asked in awe, already knowing the answer. However, it was the only decent sentence I could put together with his proximity.
His light masculine cologne smelled incredible. I instinctively wanted to take a step closer to catch more of his scent, but I restrained myself to stay in my place. I had thought I wouldn’t see him until tomorrow when we started working together. I could not ignore the excitement and thrill I felt at the unexpected surprise of him standing in front of me.
His stare was thoughtful as if he was searching my eyes for a reaction from seeing him here.
“Of course. James is extraordinarily talented, and many of my clients in the past have specifically requested his work,” he answered with a genuine smile.
My eyes were busy taking him in as he stood beside me at my favorite art gallery. My gaze focused on the expansion of his full lips and the defined contours of his strong jaw. Fitting his relaxed, easygoing personality, he was wearing a dark gray T-shirt and a worn pair of jeans. His dark blond hair had the slightest wave in it. It was the perfect length, and I had the sudden urge to know what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. I blinked away the thought and tried to focus on the present moment, so that meant no ogling.
I nodded to acknowledge his reply. “Yes, I have noticed a painting or two of his in here before. His work is stunning,” I said while glancing back at the portrait.
From the corner of my eye, I watched Jason’s gaze as his eyes also looked at the painting.
Then, he tilted his head at me again. “You look as though you are very fond of his work, or you know of this particular place. Which is it?” he asked softly.
“Both,” I murmured. I decided to explain further. “It was one of my favorite places in Lake Tahoe. As a child, I would go swimming there with my brothers.” I lifted my finger to gesture at the painting. “That very dock is only a short distance from here,” I added while happy childhood memories flooded my mind.
“That is a coincidence. I did not realize that LaBloom had been to the West Coast,” he replied attentively.
He paused, causing me to look directly at him. I tried to guess what he was going to say next.
“So, are you ready for our first day of work together tomorrow?” he asked casually.
“No,” I responded honestly before my mouth could filter my thoughts.
His husky chuckle sent a shiver racing down the center of my spine.
“Why not?”
I tried to recover from my slipup, but I failed terribly as my flirty side overcame me. “Oh, you know how it is to be stuck showing the newbie around.” I grinned, shaking my head. “It’s going to be a lot of work.”
His next laugh was a bit louder.
I just had this feeling that this upcoming week was going to be full of challenges. Jason seemed like anything but a simple man. A part of me was thrilled to get to know him better while the other part knew it was a really bad idea. Temptation had a way of building with time.
“Don’t worry, I’m a quick learner.” He smirked.
Gail came up from behind me and stopped at my right side. “You’re still stuck on this painting?” she asked in amazement before her gaze caught on Jason. Her eyes roamed up and down him, like she was ready to devour a sweet caramel candy wrapped in chocolate. “Well, hello,” she purred at him sweetly.
“Gail, this is Jason, Lily’s cousin and one of Kyle’s new business partners.”
Gail and Jason both raised their hands to shake.
“Jason, this is my best friend, Gail,” I finished introducing them.
“Nice to meet you, Gail,” Jason replied kindly.
My eyes were stuck on Jason. His eyes were friendly and soft, and I could not help but notice that he looked at her differently than me. His gaze was more…platonic with her.
“Likewise, Jason.” Gail smiled. “So, what brings you here? Do you have an appreciation for art?”
“Yes, I do. It just so happens that I was shopping in hopes of hiding my plain white walls at my new apartment.” He laughed.
He’s a man who loves art and hates white walls. Could he be any more perfect?
“It seems you two have a lot in common then.” Gail smirked in my direction. “Abbey also despises white walls.”
At her tone, I could practically hear the wheels turning in her mind. My eyes snapped to hers, glaring, while I silently prayed that I was not making it too obvious to Jason. What is she doing?
Gail bit her lip to keep from grinning, and I knew exactly where her thoughts were going. She was planning her escape route. Our many years of friendship had given us this unexplainable ability to practically read each other’s minds and finish one another’s sentences. She was like the sister I never had. Sometimes, it was a gift, and other times, it was a curse.
“Well, kids”—Gail yawned dramatically, and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at her theatrics—“I’ve had a long day today, and I have to be up at the crack of dawn. But Abbey over here has excellent taste in art. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you spice up that new place of yours.” She stepped forward to hug me. “Call me this week, Abbey. Good night,” she added quietly, her voice full of wit.
“Good night, Gail,” I replied as I embraced her back. I became nervous at the thought of being left alone with this gorgeous man. I sure hoped she knew what she was doing because I felt like I was in over my head.
Jason and Gail exchanged polite good-byes before she hap
pily bounced over to the door, leaving Jason and me standing there, staring at one another.
“Did she just do what I think she did?” Jason asked with an amused expression.
“You mean, intentionally leave the two of us here together?” I questioned humorously. “Yep.” I let out a deep breath.
The corner of his mouth lifted in the most handsome way. “Is that a bad thing?”
With your good looks? Yes! “No. I’d be happy to help you decorate if you’d like some assistance,” I offered kindly.
His grin broke free. “I’d greatly appreciate a second opinion. Thank you.”
“So, what are your favorites—landscapes, portraits, or random art?” I asked, not knowing a thing about him besides that he was gorgeous.
“Hmm…” He pondered, lifting his hand to stroke his thumb and forefinger across his jaw, as he studied a few of the paintings in front of us. “I like variety, but the ones that catch my attention the most are usually the utmost unique.”
“Okay,” I murmured while the two of us started walking along the wall.
My eyes made their way across each painting by different artists while trying to ignore the dance between us. I took one step, and he took one step. We were in perfect sync, like a magnetic pull was humming between us, never allowing the other to get far away. I pushed away the random observation and continued gazing at the art in front of me.
Suddenly, my attention caught on a large canvas of a bald eagle. This one was not a typical portrait. It was vibrant, even with only using blacks, grays, and whites throughout. It had bold, precise strokes running down the expansion and all the way to the tip of each wing. The background was filled with the brightest blue sky imaginable, drawing all of the attention to the beautiful dark eagle in the center. The bird’s wingspan was completely spread open as if representing that he was free to roam the open skies and terrain beneath him with nothing holding him back. I was not normally much of a bird person, but this image captivated me. It was stunning and elegant, and it mesmerized me with its representation.
“What about this one?” I whispered while still taking in every fine detail.
Jason stepped closer to me, his eyes taking their fill of the painting. He nodded as though it was pulling him in, too. I tried to ignore his nearness and keep my thoughts strictly on the painting in front of me.
“It’s a fascinating picture,” he said in a low tone, lowering his gaze to the artist’s name. “Derek L. Brown. I’ve never heard of him, but his talent speaks for itself.”
“It does,” I said as I tilted my head at him. “Do you like birds?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“I actually have a Harley,” he replied with a smile, “so a bald eagle would fit my style to a T.”
I smiled sincerely at this new information. It was such a small fact about him, but I was intrigued to know more. “A Harley?” I questioned with curiosity.
A motorcycle did actually fit his persona. I instantly wondered what he would look like in leather chaps, biker boots, and a bandana.
Jason grinned, and my eyes dropped to his mouth and those full lips. Suddenly, my own lips felt dry.
“Yep, I have owned one since I was eighteen.”
“What kind of bike do you own?” I asked, feeling the desire to learn as much as I could about him.
“A Super Glide,” he responded.
His eyes shimmered with a hint of that bad-boy quality I’d seen last night. I loved bad boys, but this one was still off-limits. My inner goddess frowned at the thought. She was still completely in denial.
“I’ll have to take you for a ride sometime,” he said in a quiet tone.
My mind struggled for a reply, going back and forth between appropriate responses, like tug of war. Riding on the back of a friend’s bike is harmless, right?
I nodded. “I’d like that,” I breathed before I could force myself to say no. I felt my cheeks heat from my admission.
Jason smiled. He truly smiled, his eyes brightening to match his expression. It nearly knocked the wind out of me while sending my heart into a tailspin. This man was turning my insides into a bundle of nerves. Resisting his charms would surely be the end of me. I needed a distraction from the look in his eyes.
I cleared my throat in the most ladylike fashion I could at the moment. “So, should we look at more paintings?” I asked in a friendly tone.
“Yes,” he replied.
I instantly felt like he was letting me off the hook.
He pointed to the bald eagle in front of us. “And I’m definitely taking that one.”
We continued to look around the gallery for the next two hours. It seemed like time stood still while I was in his company. He was so easy to be around, and I found myself opening up to him in ways that I had not been able to do with other men in the past. He just had this unexplainable ability to peel back all of my guarded layers with his natural grace. It was humbling and terrifying at the same time.
Our similar taste in art made the conversations flow between us. Other than Gail, I had never really met anyone who shared my appreciation for art. As much as I valued my time with Gail, it was refreshing to see someone else’s insightful taste and views.
Jason left with five paintings. Two were ones that I had picked out—the bald eagle and another of Niagara Falls. The other three were ones he had chosen, but I had really loved them, too. As we were leaving, Jason asked me to join him for a cup of coffee at a nearby Starbucks. As tempting as it was, I politely declined. I needed a few hours to breathe and emotionally detach myself from him. I wanted to keep distance between us even though a part of me greatly protested that idea.
We both decided to meet at the office at seven in the morning, so we could go over our plans for the day.
As I climbed into bed that night, all thoughts were on Jason, and I could not help but feel a rush of excitement at seeing him tomorrow.
Monday morning, my doorbell rang, pulling me out of a deep slumber. I rolled over and grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand. I brought it right in front of my eyes, so I could read the display without my contacts. I blinked at the time to make sure I was reading it correctly.
It was seven o’clock on the dot.
Seven!
I was usually already awake before seven to start my day. I jumped out of bed, realizing I must have forgotten to set my alarm the night before. I blamed my mishap on Jason since he’d distracted my thoughts.
The doorbell chimed again. I bent forward, squinting, while running my hand across the nightstand. I was blind as a bat, so I would never make it to the door without my glasses. After locating them, I put my glasses on, and I ran for the front door of my condo, wondering who could possibly be knocking this early in the morning. I opened the door, only to come to a halt.
Jason was standing on the other side, holding two cups of coffee from Starbucks. He was dressed in a plain white T-shirt with his spectacular biceps stretching the sleeves, cargo pants with a construction belt slung low on his hips, and classic CAT work boots.
Holy hell.
His eyes assessed my wardrobe, and a grin spread across his features. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I take it you overslept?” he asked, lifting his brow. His lip twitched adorably in amusement. “Do you always make a habit of being late for work?” he added teasingly.
“Jason, what are you doing here?” I questioned in surprise, ignoring the urge to take a second glance at his muscular arms.
“I thought I’d swing by and pick you up since we’re going to the same place and all. I would have been here sooner, but you would not believe how long the line was this morning at Starbucks.” He shrugged and offered me one of the cups. “Kyle warned me not to forget your morning coffee. He said you would be a handful without it,” he continued, stifling his laughter.
“Oh,” I replied, still feeling stunned that he was standing in my doorway. “Thank you.”
I reached for the warm cup, inhaling the sweet smell of morning coffee. I glance
d back up at Jason to observe the way his eyes were taking in my condo. He looked intrigued.
“You do have a love for art,” he said in awe.
I turned my head to see what he was gazing at. My living room was the most decorated room in the house. It was painted a plum purple to contrast my white furniture, and each wall was filled with canvas after canvas of many sizes and artists.
“Yes, it’s my weakness,” I admitted shyly.
This room was my favorite in the condo. It had taken me forever to decide on some of those paintings, wanting them all to blend together nicely. The end result had turned out better than I ever could have envisioned.
Jason chortled and then took a sip of his coffee. Him being in my home made it feel extremely small. It was only then that I felt awfully embarrassed for standing there in my pajamas. I could only imagine what my morning hair looked like since I knew I was one of those people who tossed and turned all over the place.
My cheeks pinked with mortification. “Um…feel free to make yourself at home while I change. I’ll be right back,” I said before running off in the direction of my bedroom. I thought I heard him chuckle again, but I was already gone on my mission to change into something more appropriate.
In my small walk-in closet, I hurriedly changed into dress clothes—a pair of pinstriped black slacks, a lavender sleeveless dress shirt, and a three-quarter sleeved jacket. I flew into the bathroom, and my eyes widened in horror. I flipped on my flat iron, and I picked up my hairbrush to begin working out the bird nest that slightly resembled my hair. I shook my head, completely horrified that Jason had seen me like this. I had no idea how he’d managed not to stare at my wild morning hair. Once brushed, I applied some light mousse for damage control. I used my flat iron to subtly curl the ends of my brown hair, and then I pulled it back into a ponytail.
There. I shrugged. Well, it’s better.
I threw on some light cover-up, brushed my teeth, and traded my glasses for contacts before heading back out into the living room.
