by Nika Rhone
Fuck me sideways.
Switching lanes before he could think any harder about it, he made a right turn and took a slow cruise in front of the gallery. There was a fair amount of foot traffic on the sidewalk, the pleasant spring weather encouraging everyone to take advantage of the sunny Sunday afternoon and do some shopping. A lot of those shoppers slowed or even stopped to look into the gallery’s large front window. A young couple went inside, the woman looking a lot more enthusiastic about it than her male companion.
Rafe could sympathize. Art wasn’t something he was much good at. He knew what he liked to look at, and it wasn’t pictures of people who looked like they had three eyes and a cat sitting on their head.
Driving past the place gave no answers. Making a few quick turns, he came back down the block again in the opposite direction and pulled into the parking lot across from the gallery. He lucked into a street-facing spot as another car backed out, squeezing in just ahead of the gray Toyota headed for the same spot. He got a long bleat of the horn and an impolite hand gesture for his trouble, both of which he ignored.
Parking downtown was problematical on the weekends, even before prime tourist season started. Once that happened, Rafe would be called to at least one or two parking lot incidents every day as tempers flared and people lost their minds. He’d even seen camera footage of one woman using her SUV to shove a smaller car out of the parking spot she thought she’d been robbed of, then walk away as casual as you please to go do her shopping.
People could get nuts over the stupidest things.
But it didn’t feel right writing off the damage to Lillian’s car as simple parking lot vigilante justice. To take a knife to someone’s tires in broad daylight spoke to someone with a very specific purpose, not bored kids looking to cause trouble or a midday shopper pissed about being snaked out of a prime parking spot. He couldn’t ignore the possible danger. Or the knot he got in his stomach when he thought about what might happen if the vandal decided to make his or her next strike a more personal one.
That was the possibility that tipped the scales for him.
Fuck it. He was in.
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Rafe watched the people flow along in front of the gallery. He might be in, but hell if he knew what it was he could actually do. Damned if he’d sit in the truck and stare at the building all day. Besides, inside the gallery was the second safest place Lillian could be after her own apartment. It was when she left work and was out in the open she became vulnerable. That was when he needed to be close. He just wasn’t sure how to make that happen.
As he sat mulling it over, the couple from before exited the gallery, a small, well-wrapped canvas tucked under the man’s arm. That sparked an idea.
Rafe crossed the street and mingled into the lunchtime crowd, making his way to the display window of the gallery. That was when he saw the painting making everybody stop and take a second look. It wasn’t a huge canvas, about two feet wide and maybe three high, but it was covered with a splash of pastels in undulating waves all around the central figure of the piece. The woman had been painted from the rear, her blonde hair scooped away from her neck with both hands, exposing the long, elegant back bared by the blue gown she wore. The woman stood still, but there was a feeling of movement that imbued the overall design, making it both soft and vibrant at the same time.
Even to his plebian tastes, it was breathtaking.
Jostled by the passing crowd, Rafe tore his eyes from the painting to go in. The front door was itself a piece of art with all of the etching done to the large glass panels at top and bottom. A silver band of metal ran across the center with the name of the gallery on it. When he stepped inside, the heavy door shushed closed, muffling the street noise. The cool and quiet should have given the large space a cave-like quality, but the strategic lighting and high ceilings helped keep it feeling open and airy.
“Welcome to the Landis Gallery. How can I help you today?”
Rafe turned at the voice. A young woman with short, bleached-out hair with a wild shock of purple in it was smiling at him from behind a small reception desk to the right of the entrance. He figured her to be in her twenties, maybe around the same age as Lillian, or even a little younger. It was hard to tell with all the makeup.
“I was just going to look around a bit, if that’s okay.”
“Absolutely.” Her smile widened, making the double gold barbells bisecting her left eyebrow glint. Unlike the one Lillian wore, though, these didn’t tempt him to wicked thoughts. They made him wonder how much they’d hurt. “Let me know if you have any questions, or if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“Ah, I will. Thanks.” Rafe had the uncomfortable feeling she was staring at his ass as he made his way to the painting visible through the front window. It was just as captivating up close. Even more so, without the layer of UV-tinted glass to detract from the vibrancy of the colors. The small card attached gave it the title Lady Dreaming, but it didn’t list the artist, or the price. Crap. In art-speak, that meant it would be way out of his price range, but the more he looked at it, the more he knew he wanted it.
“I see you’re enjoying our…oh!”
Turning at the familiar voice, Rafe couldn’t hide the grin that came from Lillian’s adorable look of confusion. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” She visibly shook herself out of her surprise and smiled. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re so out of place here.” Wincing, she said, “That’s not what I meant at all. I meant, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Here. Where I work. I’m used to seeing you at home, in the lobby, or the elevator or something. Never…here. Wow, that sounded stupid even to me.” She gave an embarrassed laugh.
“It’s okay, I know what you meant.” Rafe had to grin. Lillian was always so cool and in control. It was the first time he’d ever seen her appear flustered. He kind of liked it.
He also liked the deep red dress she was wearing today. Silk again, like the blouse she had on the day before, and it cupped her body just as faithfully. It took all of his willpower not to take advantage of his greater height to sneak a peek down that enticing cleavage.
Thankfully oblivious to where his thoughts and eyes had strayed, Lillian’s smile bloomed and she laughed again, this time a more natural, happy sound that went straight to Rafe’s groin. Cursing the unfortunate reaction, he locked it down before he could embarrass them both.
“So, are you looking for anything in particular?”
Rafe decided to go with a half-truth.
“I’ve been in my place for a few months now, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I found something to make it look a little more lived in.” He and his brother had all the necessities, but aside from the few things he’d kept from his old apartment, decorating had pretty much fallen into the bachelor style. Which meant a huge TV and gaming system, but very little else.
“Do you have any stylistic preferences? Landscape, portrait…dogs playing poker?” Her tone was all business, but her dark eyes were still laughing.
“I hadn’t thought too much about it.” Since he hadn’t planned on coming into the gallery until about five minutes ago. “I was going to look around, but then I saw this piece.” Rafe gestured to the painting next to him.
“Ah, Dreaming.” Lillian nodded. “She’s been catching a lot of eyes since we put her in the window.”
Hell. If no one had bought the painting yet, that meant the price had to be something outrageous. Still, he had to ask. “How much would something like this go for?”
She looked surprised, then pleased, then flustered. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not for sale. It’s on temporary loan to the gallery from the artist.”
“Huh.” That didn’t sound right. Wasn’t the whole purpose of putting a painting in a gallery to sell it?
Seeming to read his confusion, Lillian said, “It’s a bit of a litmus test. Sometimes newer artists have to prove they can draw an audience before the gallery will agree to give them their own
showing. If the painting creates enough buzz by drawing customers inside, then odds are good their work will sell well enough to make it worth the gallery’s while. Which,” she added with a shake of her head, “is probably more than you wanted to know.”
“No, no. Paying dues. I get it.” Not unlike the free food his parents had doled out that first year while trying to attract attention to the newest Cubano restaurant in downtown Boulder. It had taken years before they’d built up their clientele to the point where there was now a month-long waiting list to get a table on weekends.
“So, if the artist gets the showing, does that mean the painting will be for sale then?” Rafe didn’t know why, but he really wanted it.
“Possibly. Probably.” Lillian shrugged. The movement drew the red silk of her dress tight across her breasts, making Rafe lose his breath for a second. “I can’t say for sure. Artists sometimes get sentimental about certain pieces and don’t want to let them go at any price.”
“Well, it’s a moot point, anyway. I doubt I could afford it.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Lillian looped her arm through his and led him away from the painting and deeper into the gallery, the soft cinnamon scent of her perfume wrapping around him in a heady cloud. “New artists don’t command the big bucks. But in the meantime, let’s see if we can’t find you something else that you like just as much that you can take home with you today.”
Rafe allowed her to lead him away, even though he knew that the only thing he was going home with today was her. All he had to do was figure out how to make that happen without her realizing it.
Chapter Five
“Oh. My. God.” From behind her desk, Bernice stared after Rafe as the heavy glass door closed behind him. “He was hawt.” She emphasized her assessment by fanning herself with one of the brochures on her little desk.
“Bernice…” It was an unprofessional thing to say, but really, how could Lillian blame her? Rafe was much too good looking for any woman’s peace of mind. Dressed in dark-washed jeans with a white collared shirt, sleeves rolled back to show off his dark, muscular forearms, he wasn’t just hot, he was smoking hot.
Not that she’d noticed or anything.
“Do you know him? Tell me you know him.”
“He’s my neighbor.”
Bernice let out a small squeal. “You lucky duck!”
“Bernice…”
Undeterred, Bernice said, “Please tell me he’s coming back because I forgot to tell him I want to have his babies.”
Rolling her eyes, Lillian walked to the painting in the front window that was catching so many eyes. A small thrill ran through her. It had been a hard sell to Felix, to let her place a painting by some no-name artist in such a prominent spot. Display windows were prime real estate, designed to drive foot traffic and reserved for the big names that commanded the big price tags. Lillian had wanted to prove the painting could attract interest based on its artistic merit alone, with no name attached, big or otherwise.
It had only been a few days, but so far Dreaming had done its job. In general, people always slowed and looked to see what was visible through the large display window as they walked past, but not many came inside. Art wasn’t an impulse buy like shoes or a piece of jewelry. But it seemed to Lillian that off-the-street walk-ins had been on the increase, and all of them had asked about the painting in the window.
Suck on that, Roman.
Fussing with the angle of the easel even though it was already perfect, Lillian stole a quick look outside, hoping for one last glimpse of the Latino sex god who had thrown her day into utter chaos. It was just as well he was already out of sight. One more look at that fine ass might have done her in entirely.
Bumping into him at home was at least something she could prepare for because it was expected. Seeing him here, where she worked, had been so unexpected she’d lost all grip on the cool, poised façade she was able to wear around him the rest of the time. She’d come off sounding like a total idiot. No, worse, like an insulting idiot. She’d meant to convey her surprise at seeing him, not imply that she thought he either didn’t have a refined enough taste to appreciate art, or that as a cop he couldn’t afford it if he did.
Open mouth, insert both size five feet.
Either it hadn’t come off sounding as bad as she’d thought, or else Rafe had a thick skin and a sense of humor because he hadn’t seemed offended by her unfortunate inability to string a coherent thought together. In fact, he’d been so not offended, he’d asked if she wanted to get something to eat after she got off of work. And she’d said no. No! To the hottest man she’d ever known, or probably ever would.
She was officially a moron.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t gone out with other men who were attractive, or even who got her hormones purring. But Rafe was more than that. Something a lot more dangerous. He was exactly the kind of guy she could fall for.
It wasn’t just his looks, incredible as they were. It was the whole package. He was nice, considerate, and patient as any saint that ever lived, as proven almost every week by Mrs. Gabreski in 1B, who, knowing he was a policeman, called him up at all hours of the night to come investigate any suspicious noises she heard from outside, insisting there were peeping Toms trying to see into her bedroom. Since Mrs. G was in her eighties and looked a little like a blue-haired Yoda, the likelihood was pretty slim, but Rafe went and looked for her anyway, every time.
And if that wasn’t enough, he was also a hero. She knew he didn’t like it when people brought it up, but it was no secret he’d been injured while saving a woman from the husband who was trying to beat her to death. The limp he’d had when he first moved into the building might be gone, but the fact he was still on medical leave after so many months told her his injuries had been pretty severe.
Looks. Heart. Courage. Yup, Rafe was the whole package all right. Which was why she needed to stay far, far away from him. Her plan was so close to falling into place. She couldn’t risk being distracted, not even by him. Especially not by him. She needed to focus on her goals first, and then she could think about maybe finding someone to settle into some kind of semi-normal relationship with. She knew herself well enough to know she wasn’t like Thea or Amelia. She couldn’t split her attention between a full-time career and a full-time man in her life. She needed to pick one and put all of her concentration into doing it right. Both were far too important to give less than her best.
So, as yummy as Rafael Delgado was, she was going to chalk up the dinner invitation to a nice gesture from a neighbor and leave it at that. Of course, that meant she was going to have to stop teasing him every chance she got when they ran into each other, which was kind of a bummer. Watching such a gorgeous man get flustered over her had been a guilty pleasure of hers for the past few months. It would be a hard habit to break.
Which got even harder when she stepped out onto the sidewalk at a quarter past seven and found not the Uber she’d called to take her home, but the vintage dark green and black truck she’d seen in his parking spot, which wasn’t too far from hers in the garage under their building. It always caught her eye because while most guys went for the bigger, newer models with all the bells and whistles, Rafe’s truck was a throwback to a different time. With its huge chrome grill and thick white sidewall tires, it was almost as much a piece of art as it was a vehicle.
Damn.
The proof Rafe did have good artistic taste, his interest in Dreaming notwithstanding, made it harder for her to be annoyed by his second unexpected appearance of the day. She took a few seconds longer than necessary to lock the front door of the gallery, using the time to decide how she was going to play it. Cool and aloof? Annoyed and standoffish?
Hot and bothered?
By the time she turned back around, deciding on friendly but firm, Rafe had gotten out of the truck and was standing on the sidewalk next to the passenger door. “We meet again,” Lillian said, tucking the key ring into her purse. She let her question
of why that was seep into her tone, and Rafe had the grace to look a bit uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I know you said no to dinner, but, uh, I figured since I was still in the area, I could at least swing by and give you a ride home.”
“Oh.”
“A little too creepy?”
Lillian smiled, relaxing at his rueful tone. “Just a little.”
“Told him so,” Rafe muttered.
“Told who what?”
“Uh, nothing.” Rafe gestured toward the truck. “The offer stands. Or I can wait with you while you call for another ride if you want.”
Inferring that he’d sent the first one away. She should be annoyed at his highhanded gesture, but it was tough to work up any real steam when he was giving her that I know I screwed up but don’t hold it against me look. He’d probably gotten away with bloody murder as a kid turning that on his mother. Young, old, related or not, Lillian doubted any female on the planet was immune to that woebegone expression.
It was the eyes, she decided as she allowed him to open the door and usher her into the front seat. They were a crystalline green flecked with gold, ringed by lashes so thick and dark that on another man she’d think there was mascara involved. Those eyes conveyed more emotion than any words ever could.
She was an absolute sucker for eyes, and his were to die for.
Her fingers twitched for a pencil as she watched him circle around the front of the truck, waiting for traffic to ease before opening his door and climbing in. What she wouldn’t give to have him sit for her, just once. She couldn’t ask him to, though. Not now. It would be a little too awkward for them both.
Pity.
Shifting on the unfamiliar flatness of the bench seat to put on her seatbelt, Lillian realized that while the old truck had been meticulously restored, it had also been updated with some modern features as well. She smiled at the throaty sound of the engine when Rafe started it. It might be old, but the truck had a lot of get up and go under the hood. Since her two older brothers were both self-admitted car whores of the worst kind, she got the allure of the almighty big engine to guys. She didn’t understand it, but she got it.