Painted Passion

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Painted Passion Page 21

by Latisha Brandon


  He stood for a long time, looking in the mirror and watching the changing expressions on his face. Women found him highly attractive, even beautiful. He would be the first to admit taking his looks for granted. Ashlyn saw past the artifice of the exterior. For someone so young, he had seen a lot; it had aged him, made him worldly wise. He liked the fact that Ashlyn didn’t gaze at strangers with a jaundiced eye the way he did. She was friendly, casual with acquaintances. When he became antsy, agitated over an injustice, she defused the situation.

  Kevin undressed, slipping between the soft sheets. The bed dipped where Fancy jumped on top. He moved over, making room for her.

  * * *

  She couldn’t sleep, even after a quick shower. When he first walked through the door, she felt a profound relief. Happiness had filled her, but she had been afraid to let it show. He’d strolled in as if he belonged there, because she was there. And he did. Wherever she was, she wanted him to be. She loved his combination of street savvy and marked intelligence. His confidence and swagger drew her. His artistic soul surrounded her, mating with hers. Even as she acknowledged his best qualities, in the back of her mind she still waited for him to disappoint her, hurt her. He knew it. He saw her apprehension—the fear in her eyes. He felt her pull away and it hurt him.

  Kevin was having trouble sleeping. She heard him tossing and turning. Ashlyn knew she should end their quarrel and tell him to come join her in bed.

  Nevertheless, she lay still, paralyzed with fear and self-doubt. She wanted to be enough for him, but she didn’t fit into any category of woman he’d dated in the past. She understood his struggles, but she had never lived them. Her life had been sheltered. She had never gone without, unless it was self-imposed. People were still trying to figure out what box to check for her.

  She heard synchronized snoring through the wall, Fancy taking over where Kevin stopped. He was fine, but he caused a racket at night.

  * * *

  Ashlyn smelled smoked meat coming from her kitchen. Who would have the gall to cook swine in her kitchen? She was ashamed that the smell made her mouth water, but she quickly banished the sensation. The double doors of her bedroom were flung open, and music, movement, smells all hit her at once. How was it possible for her doors to be open when she’d locked them last night? The drapes over the picture window above her were open, allowing the sun to warm her face. The dawning day was unusually warm, even for the South. Aya played over the surround-sound, smooth, soothing, lyrically intense.

  Fancy napped in her doggy bed. “Sell-out,” Ashlyn called her. “You abandoned me for a pretty face and bacon.”

  Fancy lazily lifted her head, her look telling Ashlyn that she had done the same only months before.

  “I don’t need you reminding me of my weaknesses, so just put your snooty nose right back down.”

  After her shower the previous night she had put on a frilly piece of nothing, a deep burgundy negligee. Kevin had entered her room while she slept and seen her in it. She pulled the blanket over her breasts. When she realized what she’d done, she quickly pushed it back down to her waist. It was too late to hide now. Not an inch of her body had gone unexplored by Kevin.

  She pretended nonchalance, reclining on the plumped pillows when he entered the room. Could he not find a shirt? She told herself not to look below his navel, but of course that didn’t work. The gods had blessed this man. Screw the bacon, she wanted him. His feet were bare. “Even your feet are beautiful.”

  “You’ve said that to me before.”

  She had, on her surprise visit, before their life intertwined and became complicated. “Why did you come?” Ashlyn never let him answer before she continued, “Would it not have been easier if you’d stayed in Philadelphia and I remained here?”

  “Why are you so quick to give up on us, to discard me?” Kevin sat beside her, throwing a piece of bacon over his shoulder. Ashlyn had never seen Fancy move so quickly, leaping into the air like a show dog. They had an easy rapport. She thought dogs were supposed to stay loyal to their owners.

  “I could never discard you, Kevin. You just frighten me.” Her fingers ran along the edge of the tray he’d placed on her lap. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t take our marriage lightly, but I believe you did.”

  Kevin handed Ashlyn a cup of tea, laced heavily with honey. “I’ve never told another individual outside of my family that I loved them. I’ve never proposed marriage to anyone but you. I’ve never invited anyone to my home—”

  “That’s not true,” she said, cutting him off.

  But he finished his statement. “To stay Ashlyn, to stay.” From the very beginning he’d called her striking with her high and sharp cheekbones, pointy little chin, flaming eyes, rosebud mouth, clear porcelain skin, long and elegant neck. She was a painter’s dream. Desperately interesting, his heart and soul, his mate, but how did he get her not to fear him. Kevin meant her no harm—he just wanted to love her.

  “Is the nightgown for me?”

  “No, it’s for me, but I’ll let you enjoy it as well.”

  “There’s the feisty Ashlyn I know and love. I made you breakfast. Apple and oatmeal pancakes, soy sausage, and a fruit salad on the side.” He lifted the lid from the platter, making a great show of the presentation. The breakfast looked as if a five-star chef had prepared it.

  “Thank you, Kevin, it looks delicious. Are you having the same thing?”

  He waved his hand in denial. “Baby, I love you, but I have to eat protein. Fancy and I are having real bacon and eggs.”

  “Please stop feeding Fancy bacon. She gained ten pounds while living with Makayla. Her vet is after my blood.”

  “Look at that face. How could you deny her a little bit of bacon on a special occasion?”

  “What special occasion is this?”

  “Your husband has come home.” He stuffed her mouth full of diced apples before she could sarcastically respond. “But your house could use some manly touches,” he said, getting a dig in while her mouth was full. “It resembles an English garden. And what’s with the battered table?”

  “It’s distressed, and I happen to love it.”

  “Calm down, I was only joking.” Kevin moved closer to the head of the bed. “Scoot over.”

  “Just because you cooked me breakfast doesn’t mean I’m going to let you back in my bed.”

  “We both know I can have you in a thousand different places outside of your bed.” Kevin put the tray on the floor and pulled her close. “This isn’t about sex, even though I enjoy making love to you. This is about you and me continuing our life together.” Kevin kissed her forehead while rubbing her back.

  “Would you like to go to a party with me?”

  “Yes, I’ll go to a party with you. Who’s hosting it?” He breathed in her scent, craving her. He was madly in love.

  “The Ingles of Newnan, Georgia.” If he could stomach the eccentricity of the Ingles, then he was ready for her family.

  “Bernard, your assistant?” Damn, how to get out of this? “Sure, if you want me to go I will. Or I could stay here and dog-sit Fancy, make sure she doesn’t chew up your white shabby-chic furniture.”

  “Fancy is coming, too. She loves to chase and bark at the cows.”

  “What do you mean, cows? Are we going to a farm?” He could already smell the manure in the air.

  Ashlyn traced the muscles in his stomach, putting her lips to the task. She spoke around pecks. “A horse farm. They breed thoroughbreds, hot-blooded racehorses. We can even spend a few days riding and jumping.”

  He was a city dweller, and riding a horse fit nowhere in his life. He did not intend to ride an animal that swatted flies with its tail, bit, kicked, and stopped, crapping where it stood. Not to mention its ability to throw him headfirst into a hedge.

  Ashlyn outlined his erection through his cotton pants, impressed with his size. “Please come with me. Bernie doesn’t know about our marriage. You can break the news to him.” She knew Kevin had a
hard time tolerating Bernie because he was so outrageous. Bernie said outlandish things to Kevin just to shock him. “Take your pants off.” She wanted him as close as two people could possibly be.

  Kevin watched her inch her gown up her legs, revealing her mound. He slid home, closing his eyes to her welcoming warmth. It had been too long. She was his and he would never let her go. “Tell me you want me to stay. Not just to attend a party for Bernie and break the news to him.”

  He moved long and slow. He felt so good, crying good, weeping good. Ashlyn clinched his tight bottom, running her nail up the crease. “I want you to stay, stay forever, love me…and only me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Why didn’t she feel ashamed of enjoying such soft and heated leather seats? Such decadence should be a sin. So should the amount of money she’d spent on new clothes for the Ingles’ party and the holiday with her family. Ashlyn extended her long legs, admiring the boots Kevin had bought for her. They were so hot, black faux leather, four-inch heels, with antique brass hardware along the entire back. They were edgy and sexy, like her. Her hair was in wild child curls around her face. She glowed with love and her pregnancy. However, she still hadn’t told Kevin, and the longer she went without telling him the harder it was. She was afraid of this level of happiness; she was waiting for a bomb to drop.

  Her hips were slightly fuller, as were her breasts. Kevin thought it was because he was doing the cooking. With him, she ate full meals, not just a piece of fruit or a salad here or there. Before she’d thought it silly to set the table to dine alone when she could grab a smoothie. With Kevin mealtime was an event, as it was when she was a child.

  One of her extra bedrooms easily became a studio for him. It caught the best morning light. He showed her the sketches he drew of her. He saw her as fluid, in constant motion, Venus, goddess of love and beauty. She saw him as her soldier, sheltering and protecting even when she believed she didn’t need it. Ashlyn looked back at Fancy on the rear seat, sitting on a blanket. Kevin refused to let her sit on his custom seats without protection. Ladybug Mecca’s “Leaving It All Behind” ended, and Susannah McCorkle’s “Manha de Carnaval” proceeded to calm and center Ashlyn. Everything in her life felt too right; the music was just the cherry on top.

  The further they drove from the city, the more vivid the stars. The stars lit the night sky even brighter during their two days of hiking the Blue Ridge Mountains of north Georgia. Kevin and Ashlyn had hiked past waterfalls, and she had fished in the crystal clear Toccoa River. Kevin had sketched, played fetch with Fancy, and eventually taken a nap in the fresh air with Fancy curled up at his sleeping bag-covered side. She enjoyed fishing. Her father first took her when she was five, and they had gone at least once a year since. This year was the first time she’d ever cancelled their annual fishing trip. He’d sent her a message stating that he understood and he would give her whatever time she needed. She knew that meant he was holding her mother at bay.

  Chante Moore’s “Your Love’s Supreme” made her gaze at Kevin. His face was barely visible in the dark truck. She wished they had stayed home. She felt as if her hormones were raging; Kevin could barely escape the bedroom before she found him again. On the steps, in his studio, the hammock, a desolate winding path, the garage. She felt as if she were starving, and only he could feed her.

  Kevin kept his eyes on the road, but he knew she was watching him. She had changed, but he didn’t question why, just accepted his good fortune. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Would you rather start a family sooner or later?”

  Kevin turned down the music and laughingly asked, “Why…is there something you want to tell me?”

  It was the perfect opening, but she didn’t take it. “No, no, of course not. I just wanted to know your answer.” She turned from him, gazing out the side window.

  “Is everything okay?” He noticed her slight withdrawal.

  “Everything is fine. Are you going to answer my question?”

  “Since our first initial discussion, I haven’t given it much thought. My father thinks about it enough for me. I would prefer later, but I realize I have to consider your answer. After all, you’ll be the one to carry our child.” They had had a major argument over his making decisions for her. This was one decision for which he would need her full consent.

  Ashlyn silently cringed. How could she tell him now, where to begin? He would prefer later, but later was now. “Sometimes these things can’t be helped. They are taken out of our hands,” she said quietly.

  “True, but if that were to happen with us it wouldn’t matter. We’re in a committed relationship. A child would only enhance that.” He hoped he was giving her the answers she needed to hear, because she was scaring him with her quiet inquiries. He was missing something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Could Ashlyn be pregnant? As soon as the thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. She would tell him about such a major event. Or would she? He started reviewing things. She now slept more than four hours. She’d gained a little weight, but not around her abdomen. When they were in Philly she’d thrown up a few mornings, but that was the result of a stomach virus. Then it had suddenly stopped. Her sex drive was that of a fiend, but she would get no complaints from him. Last, but not least, she avoided alcohol as if it were kryptonite, and this was from a women who more than enjoyed a glass of red wine. He was so blind…Ashlyn was pregnant. But why was she keeping it from him? Should he confront her about hiding the pregnancy or wait until she felt confident enough to tell him? Damn, he was going to be a father.

  “Kevin, are you okay? Why are you pulling onto the shoulder? Kevin...” She watched him throw the truck into park and place his forehead on the steering wheel.

  He wanted to wrap her in cotton, see that she came to no harm. But she had yet to confirm the pregnancy. He had a right to know, but she sat beside him, silent. He had no idea which way to turn. She confused him. He knew they shared a rare love, but Ashlyn possessed a multitude of fears. He believed he’d more than proved himself, but, obviously, she didn’t.

  She rubbed his back with one hand and asked, “Did you need me to drive?”

  “Is there anything you have to tell me?”

  Hesitantly, she said, “No.”

  “You act as if I’m deficient in some way, as if I have no insight into your wants and desires. You want to place me in the category of ordinary, when I’m far from that. Give me a reason to stay.”

  “Kevin, we’re pulled onto the shoulder of a dark road, with vehicles speeding by. Why have this discussion now?” Why the sudden attitude change, the agitation? She’d believed they were finally coming to be on the same page when they left the house.

  “What are you searching for? I’m here. Why do you keep looking when I’m here?” Frustration colored his speech. “What are you hiding from me?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m not hiding anything, and this discussion is not about concealment, but about trust. I don’t know if I can trust you.”

  “Why, because all black men are untrustworthy?” He was angry, tired, and hurt.

  How dare he accuse her of thinking such a thing? “This is not about black or white. If you haven’t noticed, I’m both.” Did he think so little of her?

  “I want this marriage to work, but you make it hard. Is it easy looking down from your pedestal?”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, I awoke with a half-dressed chick standing over me. I have a right to not trust you, and on top of it all, what about the other hoards of women before her? I never held your past against you, but I don’t want it invading where I lay my head.” The gloves were off.

  “How many times do I have to apologize for that? Did I ask for an apology about Frank? No, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.”

  He was right. She’d held her grudge for much too long. She was using it to get her way in all things, because she felt as if in the past only his way mattered. She wanted him, not Frank. He enlive
ned her life. She would not say he made her whole, because she was already that before him, but Kevin did ground her, keep her focused. He aggressively loved and pursued her. He embraced her femininity, respected her strength. Her success didn’t intimidate him.

  He’d more than proved himself. “You’re right.” Such a simple statement, but it got straight to the heart of the matter. “I was so hurt and disappointed over Reese that I used the incident to find fault in other areas of our life. I felt as if I gave up so much for you when I had never even contemplated doing it in the past for Frank. Which demonstrates how deeply I feel for you, that I would abandon all my responsibilities to remain by your side. I want you here with me. I want you to travel to Chicago with me and finally meet my family. It will not be easy, but it’s time. I’m just so sorry that I put it off for so long.” Ashlyn linked her fingers with his, raised his hand to her lips and kissed his golden skin. “I was selfish. I wanted you all to myself. I never wanted outside forces to come between us.”

  Kevin’s knuckle grazed her lips. “I adore you, mi amour.”

  “I love you more than you will ever know.”

  * * *

  The night was a spectacle, full of color, drama, Johnny Cash and Lady Gaga, on top of alcohol-fueled brains. It was hard to know where to look. Never had so many string ties, taffeta dresses, skinny jeans, and sequins occupy the same space. Kevin was so out of his element, but he wouldn’t have looked away if you paid him. Bernard Ingle—Bernie to his friends—occupied the middle of the dance floor, leading the fabulously flamboyant charge to “Poker Face” and “Bad Romance,” every dip, hair toss, gyrating hip, and toe tap in sync with the choreographed music videos.

 

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