by L. P. Dover
“Don’t worry about that. I got it covered,” he replied with a wink. Grabbing his keys, he nodded toward the door. “Ready?”
He tried to walk past me, but I caught his arm. “What do you mean, you ‘got it covered’? I don’t want you paying her for me.”
“Why not?” he questioned, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
“Because I can pay her myself. I don’t need anyone doing me any favors.”
Putting his arm around my waist, he pulled me into his body. “Trust me, love. You’re not the only one getting something out of this deal. I have my own agenda.”
“Which is?” I asked. His eyes twinkled and I couldn’t help but smile.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Now I was intrigued.
—
The gallery wasn’t far from Jack’s house. I was excited to get in there and see the recently added works. It was impressive how many talented people lived locally. Jack opened my car door and helped me out. He was such a gentleman, but there was a part of me that wondered if this was what he was truly like. I had to believe it was because of the way I felt inside when I was around him. I hated living with a guarded heart, but it was the only way to keep it from getting broken. There were so many men who put on a front and then changed once they had you. I knew that from personal experience. One minute you’d have a romantic and sensual man and the next, a disrespectful dog. I couldn’t base every new guy I met on my past experiences, but it was hard not to.
Jack clasped my hand in his and led me into the gallery. The middle-aged woman sitting at the front desk beamed when we walked in. Her name was Evelyn, and she was the gallery owner’s wife. She was an artist too and had many of her paintings on display. “Bristol, right?” she asked, walking around the desk to greet us.
She held out her hand and we both shook it. “Yes, ma’am. We’re here to purchase a few pieces. I heard you had some new work in.”
“We do,” she said enthusiastically. “If you walk through toward the back, you’ll see them all in the new exhibit. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Thanks, Evelyn.” We started toward the back and I looked up at Jack. “She’s the owner’s wife. Her paintings are really beautiful.”
He had a smile on his face I couldn’t decipher. It was almost as if he knew something I didn’t, like there was a hidden joke somewhere I didn’t catch. “Do you think they’d go well in my place?” he asked.
We stopped at one of her paintings, but it wasn’t his style. Jack lifted his brows and shrugged. Her paintings were very angelic and pure, pictures of small children running around on summer days. I didn’t really know what his style would be, but it definitely wasn’t that. Evelyn’s paintings were more appropriate for elderly people wanting something to remind them of their grandkids.
I made sure Evelyn wasn’t watching us and shook my head, making sure to keep my voice quiet. “Not for you,” I whispered, steering him out of the area.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking God. I know I gave you the reins on this, but I’ll admit, you had me shitting bricks over there.”
I smacked his arm. “Thanks for having faith in me. Maybe we should go back and get one of those paintings.” I tried to turn around, but he held me firmly, his fingers pressing into my waist. Everything inside me tightened and I lost my breath.
His mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath across my skin as he chuckled. “Keep walking, sweetheart. Paintings with angels and little kids aren’t exactly what are on my mind right now.”
“Oh yeah? What is?”
Pressing his body to my back, I could feel every inch of him against me. His lips came close to my neck and I was hoping to feel them, but they didn’t connect. Instead, he breathed me in and backed away. “I wish I could show you, but this isn’t the time or place.”
The guy was seriously going to drive me insane. I hated that he affected me the way he did. It had been so long since a man had touched me so intimately, I almost forgot what it was like. I thought I could live without it, but I was wrong. Now he had awakened something inside of me I didn’t know if I’d be able to control.
The next exhibit was all Thomas Kinkade art. His ability to capture light on a canvas was phenomenal. I stopped in front of one of his paintings called Evening at Autumn Lake. One of my favorites, it depicted a small house beside a glistening lake, surrounded by autumnal trees and nestled in the midst of tall, snow-capped mountains. Kinkade had a way of making people feel as if they were actually there in his paintings.
“You must like him,” Jack murmured.
I nodded, but kept my focus on the picture. “My mother does too. Every year for Christmas, I’ll buy her a new piece. She has a whole room with nothing but Kinkade drawings. It’s like her own art gallery. Each time I come in here, it reminds me of her. I need to fly to Texas and visit.” I glanced up at him and there was a sadness that passed across his face. “Are you okay?”
His jaw clenched, but then he nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just, you mentioned your mother and I couldn’t help but think about mine.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“In Tampa with my brother. My father died a couple of years ago, right when we found out my mother had cancer. She was fine for a while, but now the cancer has spread.”
I clasped a hand over my mouth. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. What’s the prognosis?”
He shrugged, but the pain was evident on his face. “Not sure, but I know she doesn’t have long. I’m flying down to Tampa this weekend to see her.”
My heart hurt for him and I knew there was nothing I could say to make him feel better. If I’d known he was going through that, I never would have mentioned my mother. I reached for his hand and squeezed it. We walked around the gallery in silence and over time, I could sense his mood shift. I could see in his eyes that his mother’s illness still bothered him, but he was trying to be strong. It was endearing to know he loved his mother so much.
We made it to the last exhibit and the moment I stepped in, I knew we’d found gold. The paintings were just what I was looking for. They were almost abstracts, with bold colors—lots of reds, blues, greens, and yellows. The combination was electrifying: a blast of color to fill the senses. But what made them really come to life were the images inside they represented. There were three paintings, but they were all separate. One was a female body, showing nothing but the woman’s back with her head to the side. The third was the back side of a man with his head turned in the direction of the woman, but the painting between them was one with them together, holding each other. There was sex and passion.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful,” I murmured. I let go of Jack’s hand so I could get closer. However, I couldn’t read the initials in the corner of the paintings. I waved Jack over to see if he could help. “Can you read this?”
His gaze narrowed and he shook his head. “Hard to tell, but it looks like a T and a B. Do you think they’d work in my house?”
I nodded fiercely. “I love them. I think they’d be perfect in your living room. I have other ideas planned for the other areas in your house, but these,” I said, admiring the paintings, “are just what I was looking for.”
His smile returned and he nodded. “Then it’s done. We’ll take them.”
Evelyn happened to walk in and I waved her over. “Did you find something you like?” she asked.
I pointed at the paintings. “We want these.”
“Ah yes, I’ve had several people interested in them.”
“Do you know who the artist is? Is it someone local?”
“In fact, she is local, but has asked us to keep her identity a secret.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gasped. “Why would someone not want people to know how talented she was?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “But I’m assuming she has her reasons. Would you like me to get these boxed up for you? They’re four hundred
dollars apiece.” She glanced at us both, and Jack nodded.
“Please,” he said politely. We knew it would take a while, so we sat down on one of the benches and watched her take each painting away. “You really like them?”
I snorted. “You have no idea. If we weren’t getting them for your place I would’ve gotten them for mine.”
“You’re more than welcome to have them,” he offered. “I’m sure we could find something else for me.”
“Of course not—they’re yours. But I am going to ask Evelyn to call me if the artist brings any more of her work in.” Just about that time, Evelyn carried out each painting, carefully boxed up and sealed tight.
I picked up one and Jack carried the other two to the front. “How would you like to pay?” Evelyn asked.
Jack pulled out his wallet, and inside was a large amount of cash. “Cash, please,” he said. “And if you don’t mind, is there any way you can let us know if the artist brings in any more of her work?”
“Of course,” she said, passing him a piece of paper. “Just write your number down and I’ll make sure to call.” He did as she said and passed it to her.
“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.
Once he’d paid, we were ready to go. He carefully loaded the paintings into his car and we headed back to his house. “Do you always carry that much money with you?” I asked curiously.
He burst out laughing. “Hell no. I know paintings aren’t cheap, so I brought what I thought I’d need.”
“Do you like what I picked out?”
When he turned to me, there was a look on his face I couldn’t decipher. It was the same look he’d had when we first walked into the gallery. “I like them, Bristol. When we get to my house I’ll hang them up.”
“Why do you look like that?”
He laughed. “Like what?”
“Like you know something I don’t.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
We reached his house and carefully brought in the paintings. I guided their placement and watched as he hung them. Once they were up, we sat down on the couch and I couldn’t help but admire them.
“At least your room looks a lot better now,” I said. “It’ll look even better once I get done with it.”
Jack placed his hands on my shoulders and turned me toward him. “What all do you have left to do?”
“I want to get some cushions for your couch, something other than black. And then I want to add in some plants in that corner…and in that one,” I said, pointing to the other side of the room.
He traced a finger over my knee and I shivered. “What happens when you get done with my house?”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’ll work on other things.”
He pulled me closer, to where I was straddling his lap. “Do you think you’ll still have time to see me?”
“I might. It depends on what you want from me.” I thought I’d sworn off relationships, but I wanted more from him. I had to put my fear aside and open myself up again, but why was it so hard to let go of my control?
“I want you, Bristol. I don’t think I can go for long without being near you. You’ve awakened something inside of me I didn’t know was there.”
His hands lifted to the back of my neck, drawing me in closer. The second our lips connected, I felt the fire in my veins. My hips moved of their own accord and his body responded. The kiss deepened and I didn’t want it to stop. Lifting me in his arms, he turned us around and pressed me into the couch, his body thrusting against mine. I was thankful we both still had on our pants. As much as I wanted to feel him inside me, I couldn’t let it get that far. At least, not yet. It was too soon.
He moved his mouth against mine and then slowly trailed his lips down my neck. His hands massaged my breasts. I didn’t resist, but when they moved down to undo my pants, I knew I was in trouble.
“I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you,” he growled, nipping my earlobe. “Stay with me tonight.”
Blowing out a shaky breath, I clasped his hand before he could get my pants unbuttoned. “I can’t,” I murmured regretfully.
He pulled back, his gaze searching mine. “Why not?”
I ran a hand through my hair, wishing like hell I wasn’t afraid to let him completely in. If only I could think with my body and not my heart. “I want to do this more than anything, but I’m not sure if I’m ready. I just need a little more time.”
Taking my hand, he pulled me up. “What are you afraid of?”
I leaned my head against the couch. “Honestly?” When he nodded, I told him the truth. “You. You’re not only an extremely good-looking guy, but you’re talented, funny, and passionate in a mysterious and dangerous kind of way. All in all you seem perfect, which throws up major warning signs. I can look in your eyes and see that you’re a good guy, but I need…more.”
His brows furrowed. “Are you saying you don’t want to be with me?”
I held up my hands. “No, that’s not it at all. I just want to be careful. You can’t blame me for wanting to be guarded around you. I mean, my God, you look exactly like Hook on Once Upon a Time. That guy stole my heart the second he appeared on the show.”
Jack stared at me and then burst out laughing. “What the hell are you talking about? Captain Hook was never a dashing fellow in the movies I saw as a kid.”
I pulled out my phone and searched for my Hook. “That’s because he’s ugly in all of them. In this show, however, Hook is hot as hell. You need to watch an episode with me.” When I found a picture of him, I showed Jack and his eyes went wide.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Exactly. You could be his stunt double. Every woman I know has a crush on that guy and I’m pretty sure there are women like that with you. My last boyfriend attracted women left and right, and look how that turned out. I don’t want to be used until a better piece of ass comes along.”
He placed his hands on my face. “How do you know I don’t feel the same way about you? You’re sexy as hell and could have any guy you want. What if someone better comes along and you leave me?”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, especially considering he’d just made a valid point. “Do you like proving people wrong?”
He winked. “All the time, baby.” He helped me up and tilted my chin so he could kiss me. “I’m not going to rush you, Bristol. Believe it or not, I actually want this to work. I’m not saying I know the first thing about relationships, but I’m hoping you can help me on that.”
“I can do that. Since you’ll be out of town visiting your mom this weekend, how about you come over for dinner on Thursday?” I asked, hoping like hell he’d say yes. I had no clue what I was going to cook, but I’d figure it out.
His brows lifted. “You’re going to cook for me?”
“Hey, I’m a decent cook when I take the time to do it. I just don’t like to cook when it’s only me.”
“I’m down for that. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
I gave him my phone number, address, and the time I wanted him there. I was glad he didn’t get pissed when I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex with him. After everything he’d just told me, I felt like I could trust him, but I had a strange feeling I was always going to be scared to trust anyone. Taking the leap of faith was going to be hard, but I had to do it eventually.
“It’s getting late,” I murmured. “I should probably go.”
He walked me to the door and opened it, but before I could step out, he stopped me. “Wait.” His warm hands grabbed my face and he kissed me, his lips firm yet gentle all the same. When he pulled back, he kept his hands on my face.
“Jack, are you okay?”
Shaking his head, he brushed a thumb across my lips. “I’ll be fine. I was just thinking about something.”
“What?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not the right time.”
I stared up at him, wishing he’d let me in just a little bit so I could do the same with him. I didn’t know why he was holding back, but I figured he had his reasons. I had my reasons for keeping people at a distance too. The last thing I wanted was to get hurt again.
“You don’t have to be afraid to let me in,” I murmured.
He slid his hands down my face and then he grabbed my hands, gripping them tightly, as if he was afraid I was going to run. “I know. I promise it’ll happen soon.”
I squeezed his hands back and kissed him on the cheek. “Good night, Jack. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
He nodded and let me go. “Sweet dreams, Bristol.” I was definitely going to have those.
Chapter 11
Jaxon
All day, I’d checked my phone in between practice breaks, expecting to see a text from Bristol. Ryan hadn’t said a word to me, so he obviously didn’t know that I’d been seeing her yet. It was only a matter of time. The way I was with her yesterday was so strange to me. I’d never given a shit about any girl before her and there I was, telling her about my mother. I never discussed private matters with anyone, not even my friends. Maybe I was closed off and that was why I liked being a dick. No one could get close to me if I pushed everyone away.
However, the main turning point with me and Bristol was when she picked out the paintings. The initials in the corner weren’t a T and a B like I had suggested…they were a J and an R. They were mine—my paintings, my first public works of art. The way Bristol’s eyes shined when she looked at them would stay forever ingrained in my mind. I was half tempted to give them to her, but I had another plan in mind. I just hoped I had a chance to work on it before she found out the truth about me.
There was something about Bristol that made me want to be a different man. She wasn’t using me just so she could tell all her girlfriends that she fucked an NFL star like all the other girls I’d been with. Never once had I found a woman who wanted something other than my dick inside her. Well, other than Sadie, but she was fucked up in the head.