Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  He dressed quickly in his black Dancing Cow T-shirt, rainbow tie-dyed boxers, and black pants, thinking of the romantic heroes in his mom’s novels. They all had mouthwatering (according to the heroines, who drooled a lot) pecs, abs, and biceps. Maybe he should up his game, really go for the muscle thing. Couldn’t hurt. Might even give him a confidence boost. He’d read in Cosmo (he just happened to stumble upon an issue online) that the ladies responded to confidence. He might even unknowingly be giving off an aura of desperation with his single state going on fifteen months, three weeks, and two days.

  He grabbed his iPad and did a quick search online for workout DVDs. He’d just see what happened. Expectations set reassuringly low. Ah, this one sounded good with a lot of five-star reviews: Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days. Perfect. Ooh, and it was set to a party song mashup. See, this could be fun. He ordered it with express delivery.

  Out of curiosity, he looked up Amber Lewis and art. He found her paintings on eArt. Look at this stuff. Awesome. He bought the most expensive one, a splatter of black, white, and red, somehow made feminine by puffs of pale green behind it. It was unusual, one of a kind, and gorgeous.

  Just like Amber.

  *****

  Amber spent the weekend in a rush of creative energy. Her paintings were selling on eArt, and she was so encouraged she dove into a series of paintings detailing her feelings. She called this series Elation. Polka dots exploded on the first canvas, the second bouncing marshmallows, the third a serene sunset, one of the few naturalistic paintings in her collection.

  She still couldn’t believe her most expensive painting had sold. Two hundred bucks. And then shockingly the next day, she’d sold another painting. And then another. Three paintings in three days! So far the sales had been from the same collector, a woman named Susan Dancy, but she hoped more people would discover her soon too.

  She dipped her brush in fire red and made a diffuse line around the sun. Painting all the time was glorious. She felt like she’d finally made it. She was a success.

  Over the next two weeks, Amber’s creative energy amped up to a frenzy. She was selling paintings nearly as fast as she posted them on eArt. Susan Dancy was her biggest fan ever. She’d made over two thousand dollars in the past couple of weeks. Newfound hope and renewed interest in her craft had her swearing off men and dedicating herself to her art.

  She called things off with Rick, who responded with, “Whatever, babe, I’ve had better.” What a jerk. She had no time for people who didn’t one hundred percent support her artistic side.

  She lost herself in painting her latest, titled Jubilation, a pink starburst surrounded by beautiful golden light. Hours passed like a blink of an eye, until she finished the painting and looked up, surprised to find it was night. Her back ached, her stomach growled, and she slowly returned to reality. She spotted a slip of paper by her front door and smiled. Bare never wanted to interrupt her artistic flow, so he just slipped her a note now and then to see when it would be good to hang out.

  She knocked on his door. He answered, shirtless. My, my, my. Someone is working out. He had mouthwatering abs. A dusting of light hair ran down his chest, leading to a happy trail that made her lick her lips. Geez, it hadn’t been that long since she was with a man. She forced her gaze back to his eyes.

  He smiled-big time.

  “You forgot your shirt, Bare.”

  “I was just changing.” He turned and reached for a clean white T-shirt from a pile of laundry in a nearby basket. “I like to leave work at work, you know?”

  His work shirt was also a T-shirt but whatever.

  “You want to see what I’m working on?” she asked.

  “Love to.”

  He followed her to her apartment, where she showed him her work-in-progress. She planned to let it dry and return to it with another layer of paint tomorrow.

  He studied it, then turned to her. “What do you call this one?”

  “Jubilation.”

  He nodded. “It fits. So things are going well, then, huh?”

  She put her hands on her hips and looked around at the newly completed canvases lining the wall of her living room. “Amazingly, they are. Hey, you want to get some takeout? I forgot to eat lunch.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Thai okay?” She headed for the kitchen drawer full of takeout menus.

  “Works for me.”

  A few minutes later, she’d placed the order, and they sat on the sofa with a couple of beers. Bare was so easy to be with. He was always so cheerful and agreeable, quick with a joke, and he liked her art. Friends didn’t get any better than that. Sure, she had Daisy and Steph, another teacher friend, but Bare was right across the hall and available at a moment’s notice. It was nice having a friend so close by that could just stop by whenever. She hadn’t felt lonely ever since he’d moved in.

  “Guess what?” she said.

  He smiled. “What?”

  “My art’s selling really well. I mean, really well.” She couldn’t help her ridiculously happy smile. “I’m selling my paintings almost as fast as I put them up on the website.”

  He straightened. “That’s great!”

  She took a sip of beer. “I know!”

  Bare grabbed the remote. “Feel like watching more Zombie Bonanza?”

  “Sure. So far it’s just one collector buying, but it’s a start.”

  “Mmm…yeah, a start.” He pressed a few buttons on the remote. “Do you know who it is?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got the name and address. I’m the one shipping them.”

  “Anyone you know?” He still wasn’t looking at her.

  “No. Why?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Ah, here we are. Lots of zombies eating brains.”

  Bare was acting a little stranger than usual.

  “Why would you ask if I know them?” she asked. “Don’t you think it’s possible someone I don’t know actually likes my art?”

  “Of course. Forget I said that. Sometimes my mouth moves without clearance from my brain.”

  He held out his arm in invitation. She hesitated, then gave in, cuddling up against his side as she always did when they watched TV.

  As soon as she had more buyers, she was quitting her job. If she could dedicate herself fulltime to painting, well, it would be a dream come true. She could live frugally if it meant she could create art for a living.

  “Bare?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You ever think I could make a living as a painter?”

  “I think you can do whatever you put your mind to.”

  She gave him a little squeeze around the middle and met hard, toned muscle. She sat up quickly, startled by the rush of heat that ran through her and her sudden urge to explore that muscle with her fingers and tongue.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He smiled at her. She felt a rush of love for him just for being so supportive. Was she that starved for encouragement?

  He turned back to the TV, holding his arm out for her to return to her spot against his side. She thought maybe a little space was a good thing. Her brain was getting crossed signals, mixing up friendly affection with love. She stayed where she was, and he dropped his arm.

  They both took a long drink of beer. She considered how uber-supportive Bare was compared to her family, who considered art a waste of time. Her father was a physics professor, her stepmother also, and her younger half-sister Kate was working on the same. Kate would soon graduate a year early from college and head to grad school for her doctorate in physics. The only way Amber had been able to major in art, and have her dad help with the tuition, was if she also majored in education. Her dad said he wasn’t flushing his money down the toilet on a degree that made her unemployable.

  So she was an elementary school art teacher by default. She loved kids, but the hard truth was, except for the occasional student, most kids didn’t care about art. They considered art class a chance to run around and throw markers.
<
br />   Bare gave her hair a playful tug. “Hey, Pink Hair, why so down?”

  “I’m fine. Just thinking.” She blew out a breath and tried to think positive. “In two months I’ll have the whole summer to paint.”

  “Sounds like an artist’s dream.”

  She nodded and cuddled up against his side again. He wrapped his arm around her, and she was enveloped in warmth. She breathed in his clean scent. He always smelled like the ocean. His arm tightened around her, and she felt suddenly like she was in a loving embrace. Was it just her desperate need for approval of her art that made her feel this way, or was something building between them? She didn’t know, but cuddling with Bare, watching her favorite show just felt right.

  Chapter Four

  It had been thirty days, and the DVD delivered on its promise. Barry was now the proud owner of six-pack abs and a two-pack butt. He had to show off to Amber. He’d given her a teaser a couple of weeks ago when he was starting to show six-pack abs, but now he had the real deal-a full six-pack. He considered how to properly show off his tight, two-pack butt and finally decided it might be too soon for this stage in their relationship. He peeled off his T-shirt and threw it on top of his laundry basket, where he also stashed her pink thong, finally feeling comfortable in safely returning it without her thinking he was a perv.

  He knew she was home. She was still in a painting frenzy, working hard every day as soon as she got home from work and working through the weekend. The only breaks she took were to hang out with him. He made sure to regularly stop by with crackers and cheese, her favorite snack, or she’d completely forget to eat.

  Guilt weighed him down. He was still the only one buying her paintings. He had ordered the first one and sent it to his mother as a gift. And then, well, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from checking the website every day and buying one more. He’d hoped the sales might trigger some website algorithm that pushed her work in front of more customers, but so far it was just him. He’d told his mom to store them in her guest room, promising to claim them once he had a house to hang them in. His mom had kept her maiden name, so at least the connection back to him wasn’t obvious. He’d bought the paintings to help Amber out, but he also really liked them and believed in her talent. If he told her he was her buyer, he risked dashing her newfound confidence.

  She seemed so happy creating art all the time. He couldn’t interfere with her happiness.

  He knocked on her door, bare-chested, the laundry basket at his feet.

  “Oh, hi, Bare.” She blinked and rubbed her forehead, leaving a black mark there from leftover paint on her hand. He left it there. She looked adorable. “What time is it?”

  “Thursday night, seven o’clock, otherwise known as laundry time.” He shifted closer so she could get an up-close look at his new muscle definition and breathe in the Ocean Love cologne that promised pheromones that women couldn’t resist. He needed all the help he could get. “Have any laundry you’d like me to do with mine?”

  “Sure.” She padded into the apartment in her bare feet.

  He was a little miffed. She didn’t seem to notice all the work he’d put in on the Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days DVD. He did the workout every damn morning. He’d even given up sugar to move things along. And that wasn’t easy when you owned a frozen-yogurt store with a toppings bar full of delicious candy. Thirty days of hard work and no sugar to get totally ripped and nothing? Not even a Hey, did you get a haircut? Something’s different about you.

  He struck a pose, leaning an arm over the doorjamb, the other hand tucked into a jeans pocket.

  “Here you go, thanks,” she mumbled, handing over the basket. She turned and went right back to her painting.

  Clearly he had to be more obvious if he wanted to compete with her art. He pulled a T-shirt on and headed for the basement laundry, thinking hard.

  *****

  Amber finished up her painting with a start. She never knew exactly when it would be finished, but with her habit of painting every day now, she’d actually found a rhythm that told her, yes, that’s it, done. She stepped back. It was her finest work, if she did say so herself. Ever since Bare had moved in and she’d kicked Rick out of her life, she’d been so driven, so creative, so satisfied. It was like it only took one person to believe in her to help her believe in herself.

  She grabbed some dryer sheets and went to meet Bare in the laundry room. The man was always there for her, bringing her dinner, doing her laundry, taking away the mundane in her life so she could focus on her art. She had to find a way to thank him.

  She found him sitting on a plastic chair staring blankly at the front-loading washing machine. Only one machine was running. She saw a flash of something pink, then something blue.

  “Hey, look, our laundry’s having a party in there,” she said.

  He startled. “Oh, hey. Yeah, I didn’t have a full load, so I put our stuff in together. Easy enough to sort it out after. Mine’s so much bigger.”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t worried about that. I brought the dryer sheets.”

  “Cool.”

  She sat in the plastic chair next to him. “Thanks so much for helping me out while I paint.”

  “No problem at all.” He grinned. “Just consider me a patron of your arts.”

  She elbowed him. “You’re a funny guy. And a good friend.”

  He stopped smiling. “Yeah. So I’m told.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He hesitated. “Truth?”

  “Always.”

  “Well…” He stared at his hands. “The truth is it’s…” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this-”

  “Spit it out,” she sang.

  He met her eyes and immediately looked to the floor. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a girlfriend and…I’m trying to figure out how to change that. Weighs on a guy, you know.”

  Oh, that was so adorable. Bare wanted woman advice. “You’ve come to the right place. I’ll help you meet women. Let’s practice.”

  He met her eyes warily. “Practice,” he echoed.

  “Yeah, you say what you normally say when you’re interested in a woman, and we’ll practice conversations that go from friendly to a date.”

  He swallowed. “Okay.”

  She hopped up on the washing machine and kicked her legs. “Pretend I’m sitting here at a bar. What do you say?”

  He stood and crossed to her. She smiled at him encouragingly. They were nearly eye to eye.

  “Happy Star Wars day,” he said.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “May the fourth be with you. It’s May fourth.”

  She thought about that. “Okay, yes, it is May fourth, but maybe not a Star Wars reference for a convo opener. Maybe something less…”

  “Geeky?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked away, turned, and crossed back to her. “Hi, I’m Barry. Bare, you can call me Bare.”

  She smiled. “I’m Amber.”

  “Come here a lot?”

  “Only when my clothes are dirty.”

  He laughed. “Buy you a drink?”

  “I’d love one.”

  They pretended to drink.

  He pulled a coupon from his jeans pocket. “You like fro-yo?”

  She held up a hand. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Put the coupon away. Don’t bring up your work. Keep the focus on her.”

  He shoved the coupon back in his pocket, walked away, turned, and crossed back to her. The machine changed to the spin cycle, and the vibrations ran through her, kicking up her sex drive. Or maybe it was the look on Bare’s face, because this time when he came for her, that good-natured smiley look was gone, and in its place was what she could only call a fierce determination.

  “Bare?” Her voice came out in a near squeak.

  He stopped right in front of her, between her legs, grabbed her head, and kissed her. His hand slid into her hair, gripping it, while
his mouth devoured hers. He tasted delicious, minty and fresh. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he rocked her world, and the machine’s vibrations pushed her further over the edge.

  He slowly pulled back. She stared at him, dazed by the unexpected kiss.

  “Go out with me,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  He stroked her hair. “I don’t mean as friends.” He looked in her eyes. “I mean a date.”

  “I know, I know. Kiss me again.”

  And he did. And it was like the freaking Star Wars’ Death Star in her body. Unbelievably, shockingly explosive.

  Turn the page to read Stud Unleashed: Barry (how Barry & Amber fall in love)

  Chapter One

  “You rock my world, Bare.”

  A little pre-date pep talk couldn’t hurt. Positive thinking and all that.

  Barry Furnukle grinned at his reflection in the mirror, standing in his cow-print boxers that read Milk Me and white tube socks before the biggest date of his life. Amber Lewis, the beautiful woman in the apartment across the hall, with funky pink streaks in her wavy blond hair, had agreed to go out with him.

  How did a guy like him get so lucky? Four weeks of careful, nonthreatening friendship and one mind-blowing kiss. That was how.

  It hadn’t been his usual gentle kiss. He’d purposely been aggressive like the guy in Carnal Werewolf, one of the romances his mom had left lying around the house. And Amber had liked it.

  He did a one-two punch with some fancy footwork. “Lookin’ good. You been working out?”

  He turned for the rear view. There’s that two-pack butt. He turned back and posed arms up, flexing his biceps to show off his six-pack abs. “That’s the stuff.”

  That Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days DVD had paid for itself.

  He dropped his arms and loosened up his neck. You got this. He had the date all planned out perfectly. First, a trip to the wildlife preserve at the beach, where he’d share his favorite hobby with her-birding. Amber was a watercolor artist, so he figured she’d appreciate the beauty of nature. Maybe she’d be so inspired, she’d want a return trip (with him) to paint some birds. After that, he’d take her to his successful frozen yogurt shop, The Dancing Cow, for some fro-yo and a special entertaining surprise.