by Jennah Scott
A moan stumbled from her lips the minute she took a bite of the sandwich Ryke made. Even though she told him she took care of herself, it wasn’t the whole truth. He’d been right to demand she eat. Angelica didn’t like to deny her muse, which meant she worked until her fingers could no longer hold a paintbrush or her eyes felt like she’d rubbed them with sandpaper when she closed them. Only then would Angel grab a quick catnap before starting all over again. So, yeah, Ryke’s promise to take care of her was enticing. But Angel couldn’t relent to his offer.
Dependency and Angel didn’t mix well. When you became dependent on someone you lost the ability to make decisions on your own. Then you ended up hurt. Never again. As a kid, being dependent on your parents was supposed to keep you from getting hurt. Experience taught her that even family would let you down.
“How did you end up with the body shop?” Angel asked.
Since Ryke kept digging into her past, she figured it was time to return the favor. Besides, if they talked about him she hoped he’d give up on the caveman “I will protect you” act. They may have spent more time naked than talking, but Angel had figured out that Ryke didn’t let things go. Not when he wanted to get his way.
“My dad.”
“It was his shop and you took over?”
“Hell, no. It’s always been my shop. But my dad passed on his love of cars. Then in high school I figured out I had a pretty good grasp of color blending, shading, all that. I can’t draw for shit, but I can see a paint job and how it will look in the end. My guys do all the stencil work for me. Restorations are my favorite, though. Taking a classic from old and beat up to shiny and brand new is an invigorating experience.”
“Kind of like when I take a piece of scrap metal and turn it into a piece that people might want to put up on display.” Angel took a chip from her plate. The two of them really did have a lot in common.
“Yep. But the shop, that was a process. I started out doing oil changes and simple mechanic work. One guy came in asking for some body work and then another. They referred people. I loved the job and expanded my marketing. Voila … Red Light Body and Paint is born.”
“So you haven’t always done the body side?”
“Nah. When I started, I called this place ‘Break ’Em and Fix ’Em.’ It was a lame name and too long.” He chuckled. “Surprising I made it past the first year.”
Angel watched Ryke’s eyes light with excitement when he talked about his shop. The reverence in his voice at the mention of his dad made Angel’s heart ache. She’d had that once. Then her mother passed away and her dad became a shell of himself. If only she could find that again. Ray was the best friend she’d had in as long as she could remember. Angel wondered what it would be like to have Ryke around too.
“Impressive. Truly. Ryke, you are one of the most talented people I know. It amazes me to see how you’ve taken your own skills and turned them into a job you love to get up and do every day.”
“Don’t make me out to be some kind of superhero. Running the shop is a bitch sometimes. As much as I love it, there are days I loathe it too. Mostly those are the days I have to fire one of my guys or one of them tells me they are leaving. But yeah, for the most part, I love it. That doesn’t make me special, though.”
In that moment Angel saw a vulnerability she hadn’t seen in Ryke before. Like her, he needed to be told his work made a difference. Angel wouldn’t have thought a body shop owner wouldn’t worry about that kind of thing. People came to his business and asked for him specifically. When it came to cars, Angel knew you didn’t throw a dart at the dartboard and pick any random number you came across online. But Ryke was as exposed to rejection and hurt as anyone else.
“You got it. Not a hero. But a damn fine artist.”
Ryke returned her grin.
He rose on all fours and crawled across the floor to where she sat. The thrill from being stalked like an animal shocked her. An urge to run in hopes that he’d follow bubbled up. But before Angel had a chance to act on it, Ryke had her on her back. He placed a hand on each side of her head.
“It’s time to answer my question,” he breathed into her ear. Warm, supple lips pressed against the spot beneath her ear, teeth nipped at her ear lobe. Angel burned with desire.
“No, Ryke. I can’t let you do that. Please don’t push me. Don’t make me regret exploring our relationship. Give me this. I won’t beg, but if you want me … all of me. Then you’ll back off.”
“For now. Will you at least schedule times to eat? Set your alarm and stop to take a break?”
His request was reasonable. Angel wanted to give him a little, if not the entirety of what he asked.
“That I can do.”
“Good. Now I’m going to take care of you in another way.” Ryke kissed a path to the curve of her shoulder and sucked hard enough to leave a mark. Angel reveled in knowing he planned to possess her body, make her his.
“Mmm. That sounds perfect.”
Chapter 22
Ryker walked around the apartment while Angel lay passed out on the floor. The amount of talent she possessed made him wonder how she had gone so long without being discovered. He knew she managed to sell some work here and there through Internet commissions and from time to time for little things sold around town, but getting her name out would make a huge difference, and not just for her income.
Her confidence when it came to her art was low. Once people recognized her, knew her talent and were actively seeking her work she would have confidence boost like strapping on a jet pack. The swagger she held, the way she kept her chin up and a smile on her face, everything about her was fierce—except her art. Every time he’d asked about it in the past she’d clammed up. He brought his fingers rest on the piece of metal; Ryker realized that there was something he could do for her, even if she didn’t know about it at first.
Ryker peaked over his shoulder, taking in the messy spikes of hair and Angel’s open mouth as she slept. Her pout seduced him even in her sleep. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make her happy. Last night they both opened up, the chasm between them when it came to getting to know each other shrank. Now he was going to take a risk, a risk that he was sure would give her the recognition she deserved. Ryker quickly grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and snapped a few pictures of the pieces she left around the apartment.
“Angel, baby?” he whispered over her ear when he was done. She made a noncommittal groan and he continued, “I’ve got to get to work, okay?”
“Okay,” her voice groggy and her eyes still closed.
Ryker grinned at his sleeping beauty. “I’ll call you later.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and saw himself out. He had a lot of planning to put into his surprise but the hardest part, the location, was already set in his mind. To make it all work he was going to need help. Luckily he knew just the girl to help him with all of it.
After settling into his big black beast of a truck, Ryker pulled his cell phone loose from his pocket.
“Ray?”
“Hello there. I’m assuming you’re the reason my roomie didn’t make it home last night?” Ray’s voice was stern, but Ryker had to believe she was joking beneath it all.
“Hey now, she wanted to work and I wanted to bring her dinner.”
Ryker heard her smile through the phone. “Uh huh. What can I do for you, mister?”
“I’ve got an idea that will either get us stabbed or placed on a mighty large pedestal. And I need your help.”
“Intrigued. Go on.”
“Don’t you think Angel deserves some recognition for her sculptures? I mean, I know you’ve seen it, and her work is good.”
“Listening.”
“I want to set up a show, or find one, one of the two. And enter her stuff. Then, when it’s up and she can’t back out, we take her to the show and watch her face as she wins big.”
Ray let the silence hang on long enough Ryker checked to make sure he hadn’t dropped the call. He w
as, after all, turning into the trees at the edge of the shop’s drive.
“I think you were right about the getting stabbed part.”
He couldn’t do it without Ray’s help, even if he found a way to do it all, what if Ray told Angel know that she knew? Ray had to be a part of it.
“Come on Ray, live a little.”
“Yeah, yeah, why’s everyone always telling me to dance a lot, live a little, all of this? I am a happy young woman.”
“Ray,” Ryker deadpanned.
“Oh … fine. Yeah, okay, I’m in. I’ll live a little before I get stabbed to death when Angel finds out I was part of it. Then you can all be happy and know I took your advice.”
“You’re a peach. I’ve got pictures of her work. Can you look into shows going on in the area? Particularly if there are any in St. Louis. There was a gallery out there I’d like to have it at. Muddy Banks Art Studio is the name of the location. It’s downtown.”
Chapter 23
Angel sorted through her paints and found bright yellow, pink and orange and put them all to the side. Her hands tapped out the percussion’s part of a Paramore song stuck in her head. The powerful lyrics and the amazing way her body felt after a full night with Ryker more than inspired her; she was happy, whole and ready to conquer the world.
Angel looked over the metal pieces, deciding the exact spots to weld before lowering her welding visor and powering the welder up. She’d heated and pressured the long pieces of metal earlier until their width of about a foot twisted at the beginning, middle, and end of the strip. Careful to keep her gloved hand at a safe distance, Angel put the white-hot flame to the metal and watched through the dark glass as the first of the three strips adhered to the stool like metal from Ryker’s shop.
Angel sang along with the song as she took the visor off and admired the tight beaded line where she’d welded the pieces together. A master welder probably could have done a smoother job, but by the time she was done with this project no one would be thinking about checking her welds.
Angel dipped the hairs of her brush into the liquid sun contained in her yellow bucket of paint, letting them squeeze against the rim of the can on their way out, taking off the excess. The bright yellow brought the strip to life, making it seem larger and more captivating. It would take two or three coats, but the look was striking and perfect in comparison to what she saw in her mind’s eye. Happy with the outcome, Angel put the can to the side and reached for the welder again. Two more strips to go.
With the job finished, Angel stood back and took in her paint choices noticing the way the yellow popped, lighting the room. She already knew the base would be the purple she’d ordered from Ryke. The decision to use four separate colors worried her. She wondered if they’d make the piece look too choppy. It needed to have a sort of wholeness to it; the focus on whole design rather than parts of it.
With a smaller brush, Ray gently dipped it into the orange and approached the now dry yellow strip. Angel approached the piece cautiously, as if the piece of metal was some strange animal she tried not to spook, Angel let the two colors mingle. Her hand glided up the metal the same way Ryke’s moved along her skin the night before. Sculpting like this reminded Angel of the sensuality of art.
In the pocket of her coveralls, Angel fished out a sponge and blended the edges of the colors together. The result was a fiery-looking sunset. She loved it. The hard part was going to be painting the others yellow and having to wait for them to dry before applying the orange. The colors came together, reminding her of the way Ryke slowly slid into her heat. Angel’s panties dampened at the visual running through her mind.
Her phone rang breaking the trance she’d been in. Angel wiped left over paint on her coveralls before fishing it out of her pocket. A smile curved her lips upward when she read the caller ID then put the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” She tried to sound nonchalant but she was glad to be hearing from Ryker. It felt good to have him call to check in on her throughout the day. The thought of someone knowing her schedule and where to find her wasn’t scary at all like it had been in the past. Instead she looked forward to seeing Ryker again.
“Hey doll, I got good news for you.”
“Mmm, coming over for a midday snack?”
Ryker gave a low curse and laughed. “I can’t leave the shop, but if you wanted to come by, I’d be down for a bite.”
“Oh my, is the boss man talking dirty to me while his employees slave away?”
“Quit causing trouble, sweetheart. Your paint is in, but if you keep teasing I won’t be able to let you leave once you come to get it.”
Angel danced around. “It’s in, for real? You aren’t messing with me?”
“Why would I ever joke about paint with an artist?”
Angel covered the receiver as she danced another second, trying to hide her squeal of delight. “Okay, I’ll see you shortly!”
Angel raced around the studio turning off lights and bumping the A/C up a notch. She’d be back, most likely later that night, but she’d barely seen Ray and wanted to hang out a little. Her impossibly good mood was a direct effect of listening to what Ray and her own heart had been telling her. Sticking around never sounded so good.
Angel smiled to herself as she walked out of the studio and headed to her car. Only then did she look down and notice the paint marks all over her coveralls. With the coveralls unzipped, her pajama shorts and a tank top were on display for the public, but she didn’t want to take the time to stop and change.
Angel slipped out of them, then folded the coveralls up so she didn’t expose any wet paint, set them on the floor of the passenger seat and headed for home. She’d stop by the shop, but first she was going to make sure she looked good for her man.
The parking spots in front of her home were empty. Although she knew Ray was probably out doing work for her dad, it didn’t lessen the disappointment that she wouldn’t see Ray. Just in case, Angel yelled out as she walked in, but silence met her.
First, she slipped into a soft green cotton shirt and white skirt that flowed out instead of clinging to her legs. The shoes she chose were a pair of white strappy heels with a thick sole and pink lipstick instead of red. A glance in the mirror confirmed she’d gone with a softer approach than usual. There was a first time for everything, and today she wanted natural, not made-up.
After the last few days and the decisions she’d made, Angel still loved her red lipstick but felt just as confident in the pretty pink. A little green eye shadow around the same shade as her shirt went on the center of her lids and she swept a yellowish color around the rest, blending in the crease with a light brown. The image in the mirror smiled back at her. Not something she’d want to switch to on a daily basis, it reflected back at her a kind of change and hope that she wanted to see in her future.
With the windows down, Angel enjoyed the drive to the shop, especially when she got to his drive and saw the large trees of his property. Gravel kicked up under her car, the sun bore down on her between the gently playing leaves in the breeze. She’d never seen a more beautiful day. It was enough to make her forget the bad and what she couldn’t push away didn’t seem as detrimental. No one was forcing her to face the desolate road of the past. They didn’t know enough to judge her for what she’d done. Angel had control over whether or not she’d step foot back in the place that sent her into a miserable spiral. For now, the answer was no.
The sun shone, her man was sexy as hell and her best friend was … in the parking lot? From her ride-along, Angel knew if she was picking up scrap Ray’s truck would be in the shop. But it wasn’t inside. So what was Ray there for? A twinge of worry surfaced, but Angel pushed it back as she put her car in park. Ray and Ryke had been friends for a long while, a visit wasn’t out of the question. She forced a smile, not everyone was like those in her past. These two were her friends. They didn’t set out to hurt her.
Through the glass door Angel saw Ray seated in the chair on the backsid
e of Ryker’s desk, Ryke’s back to the front door. He didn’t know she was there, but something different was happening. Ray’s arm pumped and she jumped up and down excitedly.
“Having fun in here?” Angel asked as she walked inside, the excitement of Ray and Ryke’s moment spilling over to her and making her smile too.
“Hey Angel, I’ve missed you.” Ray wrapped her arms around Angel’s neck.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Ryker peered up from behind his desk where he closed scheduling books and put his phone away. “Paint’s back here.”
He stood and Angel gazed over the hard line of muscle in his arms as he held a hand out for her to take.
“All right, I don’t want to be a part of whatever you two end up doing with that paint, so I’m headed home.” Ray picked her keys up off the counter. “See you at home later, Angel?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Angel grinned, happy to feel Ryker’s rough hand in hers, leading her away. Ray’s advice was golden. The past may have haunted her, but living in the now, Angel recognized that a single touch from Ryker wiped her worries away.
Chapter 24
Ryker turned the lights off one by one as he inspected the shop for the end of the day. His free hand held the phone to his ear. “You busy tonight?” Ryker asked with mixed emotions. He wanted to spend time with Angel. Hell, he’d spend all of his time with her if he could, but some space was required to pull off the surprise.
“Would you hate me if I said I was feeling inspired and needed to work?”
“Never. I’ve got some running to do anyway. Call me later?” Ryke released his breath. If Angel said she wanted to see him he’d figure out another way to work on his plan.
“Of course.” Ryke ended the call with a grin.