"Stop smacking my ass!" I bellowed, reaching around to rub the spot, glowering.
"Go get showered and changed, Bit," Fancy Pants said jovially, and chuckled, grinning his charming, dimpled grin my way. "I'll throw on some clothes and hold down the fort 'til you get back."
Slapping his hands away, lest he get any other cockamamie ideas, I huffed and started up the steps, but Will stopped me and bent forward, leaning in and giving me a quick, hard kiss on the mouth. "Love you, Bit," he murmured sweetly against my mouth. I was not above admitting I melted against him, however briefly, before continuing on my way.
"I love you too, ass-hat," I called back mockingly, once I'd gotten to the top of the stairs.
He growled at me in answer, and I laughed all the way to the shower.
****
"I still say he should be arrested!" Mrs. C huffed from the living room.
Straightening my shirt, I walked down the stairs but paused at the moment, blinking uncomprehendingly as everyone stared at me.
"What?" I asked, perplexed, glancing down at myself. Did I have a hickey somewhere funny? A bite mark? What?
"Told ya," Rita sang smugly, smiling a toothy smile.
Blushing, a sudden thought hitting me, I looked around wildly, horrified, searching for my nephews. Oh my god! Did they hear Will's yelling on the stairs?!
Hopping up from the loveseat, Will bounded towards me and leaned in, wrapping his arms around me. "Don't worry, Bit," he whispered into my ear. "Rita and the kids just got here."
My shoulders relaxed and I let out a relieved sigh, letting him guide me over to the couch.
"Told me what?" Toby grumbled at his wife.
"That he's her prairie vole!" Rita cried excitedly.
Everyone turned to Rita and gave her a blank look.
"What?" Rita asked, at a loss, rubbing her baby bulge.
"She has trouble sleeping at night and watches the animal channel or whatever it's called," Toby chimed in.
There was a collective, “Oh,” and then, "What the hell is a prairie vole, Rit? And how is Ass ha- Uh, erm, I mean Will a critter?" Toby asked curiously, just as lost as everyone else.
Rita rolled her eyes at her hubby. "They're little critters, like you said, and they mate for life. He completes her," she explained, bringing her hands together, like two halves meeting a whole.
"Pregnancy has made you wonky, my friend," I muttered out loud, snickering at Rita.
"Shut up, Bit. You heard her," Will preened, "I complete you."
Rubbing at my forehead, I snorted, but didn't protest when he yanked me into his lap.
"We're getting off topic here!" Mrs. Carolton intoned in a shrill voice.
"And that would be...?" I asked the very irate Mrs. C.
"He stole my sign, and I want it back!" she demanded.
"Sign?" I looked over at Will and Tobes, who were both looking anywhere but at me.
"What sign?" Having a small inkling of what she was possibly referring to as they studiously ignored me, I waited.
"The for sale sign in front of your home, Bit! I know he took it!” Her arm flung out, aimed in Will’s direction. “I just know it!" she cried out indignantly.
"Did you actually see him do it?" I asked, not looking at Will or Tobes—I might break out laughing if I did.
"Well... no," she said slowly.
"Then you don't actually know that he did it, Mrs. C," I stated calmly.
"Oh, who else would it be?!" She pointed an accusing finger at Will. "The day after you left for your fancy art show, he showed up pestering everyone, asking if we'd seen you and where the heck were you. He made a scene in Seppel's grocers, I tell you! Barking and snarling at everyone!"
I looked at Will dubiously, his smile slight, his expression carefully blanked. Those hazel eyes, though, gave him away.
He shrugged unrepentantly. "I love you. I came back, you were gone. I saw the sign in the yard...I, uh, lost it a little," he explained shortly.
"A little!" Mrs. C huffed. "Pfft! That man was—is—a menace! He terrorized the town until someone called Toby and told him if he didn't get your buns down here to shut him up," she said, hooking a thumb at Will, "we were going to tie him up and throw him in the lake!"
"I'd like to see you try, you old battle a-” Will got out before I clamped my hand over his mouth.
"Well, Mrs. C, I'll be sure to let you know if I find the sign. And I hate to rush you out, but I have to get back to my fancy art show today. So… if you'll excuse us."
"You just be careful, honey," Mrs. Carolton said, standing to take her leave, "You can't trust them pretty ones. They usually end up being nuttier than a pecan pie." She turned at the last minute, right at the door, and looked Will up and down, then glanced to me. "Even if he is hairier than a monkey from the waist down," she added, tossing me a saucy wink when I jerked, stunned, as if she’d just poked me like the Pillsbury doughboy and given me a woo-hoo, gaping at her openly.
Toby grimaced, shuddering, and made fake gagging noises.
"I'll remember to buy you some curtains for your side window when you two tie the knot," she offered casually, motioning to the side window that gave one a perfect view of my stairs.
Will turned beet red and cleared his throat awkwardly.
Mrs. C just winked at Will, a twinkle entering her eyes, and grinned mischievously.
****
"Wow, Bit. Are these all yours?" Will asked, wide eyed, studying my paintings as they hung on the walls, people milling about throughout the rooms, admiring other artists’ work as well.
"I'll never doubt you again," he mumbled, in awe, admiring a particular painting of mine that I'd grown very attached to. "Hey!" He chuckled, pointing, once he’d figured it out. "That's us.”
It was a painting of two small children, fishing off the dock. The little girl was auburn haired with pig tails, wearing grubby clothes, and the boy was sandy haired in his Sunday best. They were sharing peanut butter cups, smiling at each other impishly.
Will studied the other paintings on that particular wall, nodding slowly, noticing a theme within each of theme.
"It's only this wall of paintings..." he jerked his chin, gesturing at them, "but they're all based on us, aren't they?"
I gave him a knowing smile but didn't answer him.
"You know you can't sell any of these, right?" he stated emphatically, using his arm to encompass the paintings he was referring to.
Hands folding in front of me loosely, my eyebrows shot up and my lips twitched fractionally, hinting at the beginnings of a smile. "Are you telling me what to do, Will?" I asked innocently.
"No, I-"
"Oh, Bit! Is this your man?!" Jackson gushed as she bounced towards us, smiling over at Will, a walking rainbow of gushing excitement, thrusting out her hand towards him for a handshake.
"Will, this is Jackson, she's my assistant for the art shows," I introduced them, "Jackson, this is Will."
"Hey!" Jackson said after a moment, her smile widening impossibly wider, until her mascara gooped, lavender eyeliner lined eyes crinkled. "He's the guy, isn't he? The one in the naked painting?!" she blurted, studying Will.
Coughing into my hand, I’d been discreetly trying to slip away into the crowd, little by little, the second I saw comprehension lighting Jackson's features, knowing she recognized Will from one of my paintings.
"Bit?" Will asked, turning to me, the expression on his face leading me to believe he thought Jackson was mistaken and he was just waiting for me to correct the matter.
"Oh? What? What was that? You know what, hold that thought, huh.” My finger shot up. “I'll be right back," I said hurriedly, desperate to make a hasty retreat. But Will, probably knowing me too well by now, snagged the neck of my dress, sending me jerking backwards, wrapping an arm around my waist to pin me to his chest.
"Eep." I squeaked, laughing nervously when he leaned in, bending close to my ear, his breath feathering across my neck. "Bit? Is there something you wa
nt to tell me?" he grumbled menacingly, though his tone was laced with that heady, husky hint of a purr that makes my toes curl.
"Uh... Heh-heh. I love you?" I laughed weakly, praying they wrote something really nice on my tombstone, like, She had a short, lovely life, even if she was a short, little shit. Eloquent, right?
"Bit!"
"Okay! Okay! I, uh... might have been a little upset when you left. Ahem. And I, uh, may have brought one of my private paintings out for display. Erm, uh, when I normally wouldn't have," I admitted sheepishly, tensing up, waiting for his reaction.
"And am I naked in it, Bit?" he murmured darkly, a wealth of promise—and not the good, yummy kind—lacing his tone.
"Define naked."
****
"How long are you going to pout?" I asked, walking back into the bedroom of the hotel we'd decided to stay at for the night, as opposed to driving back late.
I'd just taken a shower—all by myself, thank you very much—and was beginning to think Will wasn't going to let this go anytime soon.
"Until the hundreds of people who saw my naked, hairy ass out on display forget they ever saw it," he muttered petulantly, the television remote in his hand as he lounged on the bed. Taking his anger out on the remote, he was stabbing at the buttons viciously.
"I took it down," I cajoled, untying the ties to my robe.
"Now," he snapped, refusing to look at me. "You took it down now."
"It wasn't your ass on display anyway," I teased, a sassy smile tilting my lips. "It was a view of you from the front, Fancy Pants, and besides, your equipment was adequately covered..." I trailed off.
His glower, as his eyes met mine, said it all. "You had one hand covering my junk, while the other held an apple. A very green, very familiar apple. Any particular reason you chose to paint that specific painting? Hmmmm? I bet I could even guess when you started painting it," he rumbled sardonically.
"Fine, be that way. See if I frickin' care! Most people would be flattered that I chose to paint them!" I burst out, flinging my arms about.
"Yeah? Would they let you paint them nude, as well?" he snarked nastily.
"I've had people volunteer to pose," I said honestly, hurt lacing my tone.
"What?" garbled out on a strangled gasp, snapping out of his mad at Bit attitude. "Did you paint them? Were they men?” Leaning towards me, he waved the remote at my person, his eyes narrowed to tiny little jealous slits. “Who volunteered? Who, Bit?"
"Relax, sasquatch," I said on a tired sigh, rolling my eyes at him. "I turned them all down."
"All?! All?!! How many were there?" he demanded.
"Anyhoo, there's something we forgot this morning, and I wanted to talk to you about it.” I spoke to him as if he hadn’t just spoken, as if the veins bulging in his neck didn’t look like they were about to burst his red face. “Well, there's a few things, but one is foremost in my mind right now," I said seriously.
"What's that?" he asked, sobering at the look of discomfort stealing over me.
"We forgot to use protection this morning."
"Oh, is that all?" He shrugged and sat back, laying amongst the pillows like their chosen one, unconcerned.
Bumping it with my hip, I nudged the bed. "Will, this is serious."
I had to say, I was a little taken aback by his blasé attitude about it. "Don't you even care?" I mumbled, staring at him incredulously.
"Of course I care.” Everything in him soft and, tossing the remote aside, he came to me. “I love you. I want to be with you, always. Forever," he promised, and caressed my face. "And if we made a baby, then I'll just drag your ass, kicking and screaming, to the altar a little sooner than I’d had planned, and make you marry me right away. Win-win."
He said it like this was the most normal thing in the world to tell your girlfriend.
I blinked at him, ears buzzing a bit, and it took me a minute to gather my thoughts. "In a weird way, that was strangely romantic,” I admitted. “In an I want to be with you forever, whether you like it or not sort of way. Still, though, somewhat romantic." Shaking my head, my face scrunched up and I laughed a little.
"Exactly," he said happily, and tugged me over him, onto the bed.
"I thought you were mad at me?" I mumbled into his skin, allowing him to drag my ass wherever, leaning my head on his chest.
"Of course I'm mad at you! You painted me naked and broadcasted it to the art world. However,” he paused, the hand swirling lazy circular patterns across my back stilling, “it was very accurate, very talented on your part, and my endowment was proportionate, albeit hidden by the hand, ahem, but I'll get over it," he said with all the righteous indignity of the truly snobby, hiding a smile beneath his haughty facade.
"Oh, shut up and kiss me already!" I shouted on a laugh, slapping at his chest.
Meet the Geralds...
"So you're an- An... an artist?" Will's mother asked slowly, fidgeting uncomfortably as she fiddled with her silverware nervously. Who knew artist could be said like such a taboo thing. She said artist like dick sculpture, or dildo maker.
"Yup," I said simply, not really sure what to say to her. Lifting my glass, I took a sip of my ice water, studying his mother over the rim. I'm going to kill Will for leaving me alone with her, I thought irritably, contemplating the best course of revenge on Will as Will's mom smiled at me politely, eyeing my hair and clothes.
Hmmmm. I wonder what she's thinking.
"May I be direct?" Will's mother asked after a moment, setting her napkin down gently as she pursed her lips.
"Sure, shoot," I joked, making tiny pistols with my hands, aiming them in her direction.
"You're not Will's usual type," she felt the need to inform me haughtily.
Gee, now I know where Willy gets it from. How lovely. "How would you know?" I asked politely enough, raising an eyebrow at her. "Will's only ever brought Jinny over to meet you. Anyone else you've met, if you've even met them, was just a booty call."
"Oh my! You are blunt, aren't you?" Will's mother, Glenda, asked, wide eyed, surprised by my candor.
"It helps counter the stick up your son's bum," I told her, smiling at her sweetly when she gasped, her hand going to her chest, and gaped at me.
"May I be blunt with you, Mrs. Geralds?"
"Aren't you already?" she said on a mutter, frowning at me.
Tapping the butt of my butter knife on my plate to let it fall noisily, I leaned forward, putting my elbows on the table, and stared at her intently. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work," I informed her quietly. Lips slowly tipping up, I gave her an evil smile. "I love Will and he loves me, and I'm not going anywhere. I know you want what you feel is best for your son, but that doesn't mean that's what he really needs.”
Her face purpled, mottling, but this needed to be said.
“Will is a big boy. He doesn't need his mother trying to tell him what he should and shouldn't do."
Gripping her napkin for dear life, twisting it this way and that like she wished it was my neck, she slapped it into her lap with an audibly snap. "How am I supposed to believe that when he quit his job with his father and went back to that little puddle of dirt his daddy left him in to teach him a lesson!" she sniped, her voice high and shrill.
"You trust him.” I said simply, sitting back. “Trust his judgment.”
"When he picked a penniless artist to shack up with?" she snapped, rising from her seat.
"Mother?" a man asked as he walked into the dining room. He’d come up on us quietly, and I wondered how much he’d overheard.
He was shorter than Will, this man, with a thicker build on his much more compact frame. There was something about him that gave me the impression he was younger, despite his grave demeanor. His hair had more sandy blonde in it than sandy brown, like Will's, I noted, his eyes a stunningly deep blue, with something akin to sadness hanging about him like a shroud. Tragically beautiful, in an unconventionally handsome sense, didn’t even begin to describ
e this man.
"Frederick! Oh, thank god you're here! Will's lady friend is being mean to me," she wailed, acting like a frail flower all of a sudden when her son showed up.
Frederick. I eyed the man curiously. So this must be Will's brother.
Picking my water back up to take a dainty, mocking sip, I laughed, then snorted, watching on half interestedly as his mother tried to cling to him, crocodile tears streaming down her pretty, artfully done up face.
"Wow," I commented calmly, crossing my arms over my chest as she complained, going on, ad nauseum, about just how mean she’d decided I was.
"What's going on in here?" Will's father, William Geralds the II—aka Bill—demanded.
Will came in then too, and made a bee line for me, a cute redhead trailing them all in to walk up to Frederick.
"Her!" monster mother complained, pointing at me.
Will wrapped his arm around me, giving my shoulders a short squeeze, and turned to study his mother, then looked at me. "What's she talking about, Bit?" Will asked, confused.
"I dunno," I answered as honestly as I was willing to, shrugging, giving his mother and everyone present a perplexed, innocent expression.
"She... she..." she spluttered, frustrated with my lack of a response.
Why should I get upset, I wondered thoughtfully, I didn't do anything wrong.
Will frowned and looked down at me. "Bit... baby, you didn't tell her about the, uh... Uh... erm. The, uh, painting,” he bent low to whisper, “did you?"
"No," I told him, grinning up at him.
Swallowing audibly, he sighed in relief.
"What painting?" the pretty redhead next to us asked me.
"I painted Will naked and he was worried I'd tell his mother," I whispered.
She grinned suddenly and giggled, a cute little musical giggle.
"Now they're both talking about me! See?!" Will's mother shrieked accusingly.
"I'm Bit," I introduced myself, holding my hand out to the woman.
When She Least Expected It Page 16
