“A real one?” Theo asked.
“It was a harmless gopher snake,” Nick said with regret as he sat back down. He took Cassidy’s hand and kissed her knuckles.
“It made Cass cry.” Rowan’s protective tone of voice once again made Theo admire her even more. These three had so much history. He wanted to hear about all of it.
“I think we need to do a reenactment,” Rowan teased, standing and putting the snake back in the drawer. Then she copied her brother’s movements from a minute ago, but this time, her exaggerated jump backward and squeal had Nick shaking his head in easygoing annoyance.
Rowan and Cassidy cracked up again, but Theo could tell it was all in good fun. Both women loved Nick very much.
“Payback’s a bitch, ladies,” Nick said with affection.
And a voice in the back of Theo’s head said, Don’t let this go. Stick around to see what Nick dished out. Theo loved being with Rowan. He could easily see himself spending much more time with her. She made him happy, turned his days into a string of unrivaled moments.
How the hell was he going to leave this girl who made him feel like no one else ever had?
Chapter Twelve
“What are we doing today?” Theo asked, looking impossibly sexy with wet hair, stubble on his jaw, and nothing but a towel around his waist.
Rowan should have taken much longer to walk the dogs this morning, but no, she’d hurried back to a sleeping Theo. Because…because she’d missed him. She tightened the belt on her robe and wiped the steam clouding the bathroom mirror. They’d just had shower sex. Amazing, she-left-scratches-on-his-back sex, and she needed to stop thinking about how gorgeous he was or they’d be naked again.
“We aren’t doing anything. Since I didn’t get a chance to finalize my article yesterday, I need to do it this morning and send it to Emmaline.”
“Meet up with you later then?” He moved behind her to drop devastatingly sensual kisses on the side of her neck.
She involuntarily tilted her head to the side to give him full access. “Okay.” She was incapable of saying no to this man.
He continued to skim his lips and tongue so affectionately over her skin that she gripped the edge of the counter to keep her legs from giving out. Theo made her feel so much it scared her.
“Have I told you how good you taste?”
“Yes,” she said all breathy.
“And how good you smell?” He braced his hands beside hers, trapping her more securely between his body and the sink.
“Yes.”
“There’s one thing I haven’t told you,” he whispered behind her ear.
“What’s that?” she managed to ask.
He took a step back and cool, lonely air immediately surrounded her. “I’ll tell you later,” he said in a seductive voice.
She swatted him on the butt as he left the bathroom. Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she stood in the doorway and watched him dress.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to throw you on the bed and have my way with you again.”
Sounded good to her. The feel of his chest against hers, his arms wrapped around her, his hips…
“Rowan.”
Work, you have to work this morning. She jerked her head to clear her thoughts. “Sorry. I’ll just close the door now. See you later.” She shut herself inside the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat.
This was bad. Really bad. She’d finally found someone she could imagine spending the rest of her life with, and he was off limits to forever. Promised to a life far away from hers. This weekend had been a mistake. He’d effortlessly wormed his way into her heart with his smile and good manners and kindness and questions and hotness, and…ugh.
Once she heard Theo close the front door, she left the bathroom and found he’d made the bed. Seriously? Could he stop being so perfect for one second? She settled atop the mattress with her laptop to reread her article. An hour later, she emailed it to her boss.
And an hour after that, Emmaline emailed back to tell Rowan it was her best writing yet. That should have made her jump for joy. Once the story was published, she’d be free of any remaining doubt about her integrity as a journalist and feel like she’d earned back people’s respect.
Yet, she felt more relieved than anything else, happy to have the work done early. She didn’t understand the change in her mindset. Since the day she’d taken over as assistant editor of her college newspaper, and their advisor had suggested she make a career out of writing, she’d thought of little else. Laying her head on her pillow and closing her eyes, though, she thought back on the past few years. Specifically, the dream she’d never allowed herself to take seriously because of fear. Fear of failing something that made her feel more alive than anything else.
She slid out of bed and cleaned her house. Nothing like sweeping and dusting to get a girl’s mind off her troubles.
There was also nothing like a knock on the front door to relieve her of the domestic duties.
“Hi,” she said to Theo, surprised and foolishly happy by his appearance. She’d assumed his “later” meant tonight, but apparently in prince lingo it meant a few hours. “Whatcha got there?” In one arm, he held a large bag from her favorite art store, and in the crook of his other, he had two square canvases.
She swallowed the knot of emotion in the back of her throat.
“I was hoping you could teach me to paint,” he said, stepping inside. He headed straight for the kitchen where he put the bag atop the table and the canvases on a chair before hanging his coat over the back of an empty chair and turning to her. “Hi.” His lips were on hers a second later, his hands cupping her neck.
Lifting on tiptoes, she kissed him back. Gently slid the black beanie off his head so it fell to the floor and ran her fingers through his hair.
They’d kissed a lot over the past couple of days, but something about this kiss touched her in a different way. Like Theo cherished her. She opened her eyes and broke their connection before devotion snared her for good.
“Paint, huh?” She took a steady breath, moved around him to pick up his beanie and look inside the bag.
“You told me you took classes as a kid where they showed you some shortcuts.” That he remembered the things she’d shared made her want to confess more to him. “And you’re a thousand times more talented now, so I thought perhaps we could draw something together, then I could gift mine to my grandparents.”
Rowan looked over her shoulder at him. Affection colored his blue eyes, but more than that, she saw respect. He had no idea how much his bringing painting into her home and wanting her to share it with him meant. No one had ever done something like this for her before.
“What did you have in mind?” She pulled the art supplies out of the bag.
He took the spot beside her, their arms brushing. Even through their clothing, the contact sent warm sensations through her. “Something easy. Trees. A mountain. Frozen pond.”
“You want to paint Marietta at Christmas time.”
“That’s a great idea.”
She bumped his shoulder. “Your great idea and I think Bea and David will love it. Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of awesome?” A gift like this would mean the world to his grandparents. He hadn’t come straight out and said it, but he wanted to paint Miracle Lake, the place that had meant something special.
“My mom,” he said in answer to her question, the mood turning more serious.
“She’d be extremely proud of you right now. I’m sure she hung up pictures you drew as a kid, right?”
“Not really. I didn’t draw keepsakes very often.” He eyed the paints, then picked up a package of brushes to open.
“Too busy playing with cars and trucks?” She walked to the closet in the hallway and pulled out the two easels she had.
Theo watched her set them up side by side and place a canvas on each. “I did do that, but more so it’s because when I was young I was much more an auditor
y learner than a visual one. The way I perceived shapes and things was different from other kids so I got teased a lot for my drawings. I avoided art after that, until with enough practice at home with my mom, I learned to draw like everyone else.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. It meant a lot that he’d shared that. All these glimpses into his life made it harder and harder to keep her heart closed off. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I hate doing things like everyone else so our paintings are going to be spectacular no matter what.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of awesome?”
Rowan gave him a quick smile and kiss. “Let’s do this.”
They painted together using the visual-spatial organization skills Rowan remembered learning as a child. She took her time, painting the desired shape first, then waiting for Theo to copy her. He did really well filling the 11x17 canvas with his own unique touch.
“If you brush more like this,” she said, wrapping her hand around his to help him tweak his brush stroke, “the pine trees will look a little more three dimensional.”
There was nothing intimate about what they were doing, but painting together with her hand clasped over his connected them in a way she never had with anyone else. Her deepest unspoken feelings surfaced when she painted and to share this was a big deal. Heart pounding, she closed her eyes for a second.
“Thanks,” he said, seemingly oblivious to her internal freak out. “Can I ask you something?”
Theo learned quickly so she pulled her hand back and resumed work on her own painting. “Sure.”
“What made you decide to work for a newspaper?”
“I like to write and I’ve always been good at telling stories.”
“You’re good at a lot of things.” He dipped his brush for more paint.
“Why thank you, Your Highness.”
“But you’re exceptional at painting. Why not pursue it? I haven’t read your writing, but I have seen your mural.” He paused and admired her painting. “And that”—he pointed his brush at the canvas—“is remarkable. It makes mine look like—”
“Hey, this is a criticism-free zone, mister. Your painting looks great for a novice.”
“I have a good teacher.” He continued to watch her paint rather than resume his own work. “So?”
“So, like I told you before, I enjoy it as a hobby.” She kept her attention on painting. If she turned to him, she worried he’d see how her answer didn’t ring completely true.
“Tell me how you really feel.”
“I just did.”
“No.” He gently took her chin and turned her head so their eyes met. “Tell me how you really feel, Ro.”
She dropped her arm, put her paintbrush down. He’d never called her Ro before. Her stomach fluttered. And damn him, he wasn’t oblivious to her true feelings. She hadn’t thought it possible in such a short time, but she didn’t just like this amazing man. She loved him.
Which was damn inconvenient.
She gave him her back in order to take a minute to compose herself. No way did she want him noticing that.
He gave her maybe thirty seconds before he put his hands on her waist and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” He’d done everything but that. Could she get out the truth and really answer his question as he’d asked? A big part of her wanted to. Wanted to say out loud what she’d kept buried deep in her heart.
She turned and met his warm, compassionate gaze like he needed to see she wasn’t upset. “It’s just no one has ever asked me that.” She leaned into his touch when he ran the back of his hand softly across her cheek.
“Which is how I’ve wanted it. Pretending my art doesn’t mean as much as it does is easier than putting myself out there when I already have a job I’m good at.”
He tugged her to a chair at the table and sat her down on his lap. “What if pretending is interfering with the person you’re meant to be?” he said with kindness, deference.
Rowan wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, overcome with emotion. Theo hugged her close, making her feel safe. Cared for. Being with him changed so many things inside her.
“I never thought of it that way,” she whispered.
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe I should,” she echoed before lifting her head and staring into his bottomless blue eyes. “Have I told you that you have a way with words?”
“Coming from a writer, I’ll take that as a huge compliment.” He gently rubbed up and down her back.
“I believe you owe me one more confession. Something you promised you’d tell me later?”
“That’s right. Have I mentioned how much I like to show and tell?” He stood with her cradled in his arms and carried her toward the bedroom.
“You haven’t,” she said coyly.
“Let’s get on that right away, then.”
She shivered with anticipation. “If we must.”
He paused mid-step. “The painting can wait, right?”
“For this? Definitely.” Truth be told, nothing felt more right than what they were about to do.
*
Theo laid Rowan down on the bed. He palmed the back of her head to slant her mouth to his liking, then kissed her with everything he had inside him so she’d know right now she belonged to him. He slid his other hand to her perfectly round bottom, cupped it, and brought her closer. He always wanted her closer.
She set his blood on fire with a simple touch. Made every possessive bone in his body hers when she let her defenses down and talked to him. Her vulnerability turned him on at the same time it stoked his desire to take care of her.
“Theo,” she murmured, biting his lower lip. She clutched his shirt and pulled, her eagerness to get it off him leading to a frantic tugging and removing of clothing until only Ro’s blue-trimmed boy cut panties remained. She looked hot as hell in them and nothing else.
Straddling her thighs, he took a minute to enjoy the view of flushed, soft skin, her round breasts and pretty pink hardened nipples, the way her eyes seemed to go from blue to gray when she was aroused.
“You’re not just going to stare at me, are you? Because if that’s the case, I’ll give you something to look at.” She traced a finger down her neck toward the middle of her chest, while her other hand slid down her stomach and over her panties.
As tempting an offer as that was, he had other things on his mind. He’d watch her next time. God, he wanted a thousand next times with her.
He took her wrist, kissed the inside of her palm, and lifted her arm over her head. She voluntarily reached up with her other arm, surrendering to him, giving him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted. “I want my hands on you,” he growled.
“I love your hands on me.”
“Where? Where do you love them?” He skimmed a hand over her breast, down her stomach. Toyed with the edge of her panties.
“Everywhere.” She arched her back, undulated her hips.
She was so unbelievably gorgeous, he could stare at her all day, every day. He tucked his hand inside her panties and watched her lips part with a sigh of pleasure.
He’d never wished so hard for things to be different. He wanted to tell her he could see himself doing this for the rest of his life. No one made him feel the way she did. He wanted to tell her he’d give up everything for her. But he didn’t because it scared him to have feelings like that.
You love her.
“Theo.” Her hushed husky voice brought him back, and he couldn’t linger any longer. He lowered his head and kissed the hell out of her. Then hands and mouths seeking and devouring, they made each other feel so good, he was out of his mind with lust. Just before he thrust inside her, their fingers laced together above her head, he looked into her eyes and gave her that last admission.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said in a low voice. “And I won’t ever forget our ti
me together.”
Her gaze held his. “I won’t either.”
For the rest of the afternoon, they didn’t use words to express their feelings, but actions that left them breathless, satiated, and smiling. When sometime later, they returned to the kitchen to finish their paintings, Theo wondered for the hundredth time how he was going to leave her.
“That looks great,” she said, dipping her fork into a container of leftover Chinese food. “Now you just need to sign your name at the bottom and you’re done.”
He signed “TC” then took a step back to check out his work. It didn’t compare to Ro’s, but it wasn’t half bad.
“I promise this will be the best Christmas present they’ve ever received.” She kissed his cheek to bolster her compliment.
“Who are you going to give yours to?” He took a seat at the table and picked up the bowl of fried rice.
She leaned over from the chair next to his and poked her fork into his rice. He loved that she seemed to like whatever he had more than her own choosing. “I thought I’d give it to you.” She dropped her gaze to the table. “If you want it. You don’t have to accept it. I’m sure it doesn’t match your décor at home, but it’s a little slice of Marietta you can take with you. I won’t know what you do with it, so if you just want to stick it in a closet or something you—”
He cut her off by claiming her mouth with a kiss that hopefully left no doubt he appreciated the gift. “Thank you.” Every time he looked at the painting, he’d think of her.
She caught her breath, her lips swollen from his taking. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re cute when you’re nervous. I don’t think I’ve heard you ramble like that before.” To see all the sides of Rowan softened his heart in the way he’d reserved only for his mom.
“Because I don’t normally get nervous,” she said with sass before stuffing her face with more food.
He joined her in eating to avoid further discussion. These feelings were emotions he couldn’t keep no matter how much he might want to.
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