Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2)

by Rose, Kimberly

  I had tasted the salt before I realized the tears were falling. “Hey.” Kensie came up next to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “If you’re not ready, you don’t have to do this,” she whispered to me, but I shook my head stubbornly. “These things take time, Capri.” I felt tiny Lennon’s hand reach out and squeeze mine.

  I scoffed at that. What things? Broken hearts? Shattered hope? What exactly was expected to come of these over time? I found it hard to imagine that such pain simply faded away. In fact, I was willing to bet the aches only became deeper.

  “No, I have to. Look at these.” I waved my hand to the scattering of paintings around us. “This is how much I’ve let him consume me. For years, the only thing I’ve painted was Wes.” I held the marlin over the flame again. “I have to take control of my art, of myself. I don’t want to end up with a carport of Wes.”

  “Why the hell would you have a carport?” Lennon reached for the marlin and carefully pulled it from my grasp back away from the flame. “And I’m not letting you burn these. I understand this is a therapeutic exercise in ridding yourself of that oaf you seem to have attached yourself to,” I smirked at her teasing, “but these are phenomenal.”

  I let go of her hand and allowed her to pack up my painting back into their portfolio, feeling a sense of relief. Maybe Kensie was right, and I wasn’t ready yet. “What will we do with this now?” I sniffed at pointed at the fire.

  “I brought marshmallows.” Kensie gave me a squeeze before letting me loose.

  “And chocolate?” I asked.

  “Duh.” She smiled and helped Lennon gather the remaining paintings.

  “Bluebell. Where you at, old man?” I asked walking into the old trailer, shivering at the amount of shit around. Jesus, look at all those tat magazines on the table. They were just, everywhere.

  “Stop organizing my shit.” Blue’s voice rasped down the hallway.

  “Come talk to me outside, then. All this stuff makes me sweaty.” I wiped my hand across my forehead.

  Blue tossed his hand toward the front door. “Out with you then, ya woman.”

  I sat on the front steps waiting for him to come out with me and looked over at my old place. Didn’t seem like Brenda was home today. Not surprising, though. She wasn’t ever home when I lived there, either. Kinda worked in my favor with the ladies.

  “Why ain’t you with your lady on your day off,” Blue gruffed, sitting down next to me. Fuck. I fell into my hands.

  “I’ve got shit to do,” I told Blue, feeling nauseous. I should have kept my distance from the bachelor party, but I didn’t have it in me. I watched her hiding in the corner of the club and resisted the need to pull her to me. She wasn’t as gorgeous as usual, though. It might seem messed up to say, because she was hot as hell, but she didn’t smile. That smile was so damn pretty.

  When she ran off after the body shot, I chased her. It wasn’t until I reached the cabana she’d hidden herself in that I realized I should have let her go. I didn’t know why I couldn’t let her go. I was a selfish asshole who knew she deserved better, but I wouldn’t walk away. When she asked me to look at her, I almost caved. I wanted more than anything to stare into those brown eyes and forget reality. But what she would have given to me in those eyes was something I couldn’t have.

  I knew she would stand by me, I knew she wouldn’t leave, so I said the one thing that would push her away. I told her that she was just another girl. It still twisted me up that I said that. She wasn’t another girl and never would be. She was the one I’ve dreamed of.

  “Dumbass.” Blue pulled out a cigarette, and I knocked it out of his hand onto the ground with my Spidey reflexes. He stared at me. I stared ahead.

  “No smoking. And I picked up some of your meds. They’re in my car.” I went to the pharmacy on my way back from meeting with the realtor this morning.

  Blue cursed under his breath. “This is why I didn’t want you knowin’, Marilyn. You don’t have to take care of me, son.” He slapped his hand on my shoulder.

  “You’re my family.” I looked at him straight on. “I’m taking care of you.”

  “Well, that pretty little girl could be your family someday too, if you want her.” Yeah, I want her. “So stop being a dumbass and take care of her first. I’m not going anywhere, son, but she doesn’t have to stay and put up with your shit.”

  “You don’t get it.” I sighed, kicking my shoes on the step.

  “Don’t get what? Don’t get that you have the woman you’ve been waiting for, that you thought never existed? Don’t get how scary it is to find something so special, and be scared as fuck that it can just go away?”

  “Well, yeah.” I kicked a rock and watched it bounce down the stairs.

  “Don’t get that you think she’s too good for ya? That no way could she want a sorry son of a bitch like yourself?”

  “Yeah,” I huffed watching the rock fall into a crack in the sidewalk.

  “Took me a long time to figure out that no amount of money can take care of a woman right. That entire garage is full of all the crap I can’t let go of because it reminds me of the woman I lost figuring that out too late.”

  “What?” I tore my eyes away from the rock and looked at Blue. He’d never mentioned a woman in his life before. Sure, we teased him at the shop about his old days as a player, but he’d always just laugh along.

  “I had a good woman once. Joined the Army thinking I could take care of her. Didn’t expect to be sent off to war. Didn’t expect to leave her alone. I wrote her a letter and broke it off. I wanted her to find a man who was there for her physically, not just taking care of her with money.”

  “Did you love her?” I asked him, but I wasn’t sure why.

  “Course I did. Loved her more than my fuckin’ self. That’s the sorry excuse I used when I pushed her away, too.”

  Blue took out another cigarette. I let him smoke this one. “So did she wait for you?”

  “Fuck no. She did exactly what I thought I wanted her to do. Fell in love with some top-notch guy and had babies. She’s still married while my sorry ass hasn’t ever let her go. Can’t. She still has my heart.” He took one deep drag then tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out right over my rock.

  Shit, that would be me. There had never been another girl for me than Capri, and there never would be.

  “Look, son, take it from me. You don’t wanna push her so far away that she runs into another man’s arms. You want her in yours.” He leaned into his elbow and coughed.

  “I do.” I agreed with him. I wanted her in my arms all the time forever and ever. “But—”

  “Ah…” Blue held his hand up to me. “Enough of the bitchin’ and moanin’ about not being good enough and let me tell you something else about women. You never tell them what to think. If she says you’re worth it, then dammit, Marilyn, you sure as hell are.” He clapped me on the back then stood up.

  “Lemme have my legal drugs,” he mumbled and shuffled toward my car but stopped halfway there. “She smart?” he called back behind him.

  “What?” I asked standing to catch up to him.

  “Your lady. She smart?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “So much smarter than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  “Even you?” He looked smirked back at me.

  “Do balls sweat in the summer?” Of course.

  “There ya have it,” he tossed back.

  The radio gods have spoken. Those assholes made me listen to Radiohead’s “Creep” the whole way home. I got it, radio gods. I was a jackass and had probably completely messed up the best thing to happen to me.

  I still wasn’t convinced that I was the kind of man Capri should have, but after talking to Blue, one thing was for sure. I couldn’t handle the thought of her with someone else, and if that made me selfish, then so be it. I just wanted her happy, and I was pretty sure my happiness making skills were off the charts, though, obviously not lately. Shit, I’d wrecked her. I saw
it in the way her body dragged when she left me in the cabana. All I wanted was what was best for her, and what I thought was the right thing to do had made the worst of her.

  I parked my car in front of August’s truck outside of my complex. It didn’t surprise me that he was here, but I did dry heave at the condition of his truck. Has he never heard of a drive-thru carwash?

  “I’m an asshole, I know.” I kept my head down and held my hand up, unlocking my door.

  “I’m glad we got that out of the way,” he grumbled following me in. “What the hell happened in here?” he then shouted.

  “Dude, tone it down.” I tucked my keys away into the new organizer I got from The Container Store two days ago. This week alone, I bought new storage containers for my video games along with labels, a wall organizer for my keys and other shit I didn’t have yet, a closet system for the hall closet so the different sized towels had their own homes, and awesome new food storage containers that I also labeled. My days of filling my cereal bowls with rice were over.

  “Well, I came by to beat the crap out of you.” I laughed at that. The only time August and I had ever fought, I punched him in the face, he punched me in the ear, and then we had a beer. “Clearly, you’ve been doing that to yourself already.”

  “What are you talking about?” I took off my shoes and put them into the caddy by the door. Yeah, I got one of those, too.

  “All this.” He waved around at my immaculate abode. “You’re trying to get control of something, and I’m willing to bet it’s how you feel about my sister.”

  “I already know how I feel about your sister.” I went to the kitchen and dug out a beer. I held one out to August, but he reached over and grabbed a bottle of water instead.

  “Then what’s the problem?” he asked jumping up to sit on my counter. Sick.

  “Dude, get your ass off my counter!” I gave him a shove, sending him stumbling to the floor again. “You’re looking at the problem.” I stretched my arms out wide so he could get a good look. Then I turned around and popped my butt at him giving it a little jiggle.

  “Get your ass out of my face.” He shoved me and sent me stumbling into the fridge. Touché. “And what do you mean I’m looking at the problem?” I asked leaning onto my cabinets.

  “C’mon, Augie, you can’t honestly say I’m the kind of guy you want your baby sister with.” I took a sip from my beer and leaned a hand onto my counter.

  “I can honestly say I never expected Capri to fall for you.” There it was. He and I were on the same page. “But you are exactly the kind of guy I’d want to see her with.” Nix that. Different pages.

  “For real?” I asked him to clarify. If I trusted anyone’s opinion other than Blue’s, it was August. Dude was the coolest and most legit guy I’d ever known, and I was lucky to call him my best friend. So why wouldn’t I let myself be lucky to call his sister my girl? What the fuck was wrong with me?

  “Yeah, look Wes. You may hold your past close to the chest, but I know things haven’t been easy for you.” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. August still didn’t know about my history in foster care, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it now.

  “You can’t let whatever happened before scare you away from what you could have, or hell, what you have now.” August tossed his empty water bottle into the trashcan. I grabbed it out and put it in recycling. He shook his head and kept talking. “I wouldn’t have Kensie if I let my experience with Bree and losing Ella rule my decisions. I can’t imagine not having her. In fact, she’s helped me with the baggage I still carry. Don’t be too proud to let Capri help you with yours.”

  I groaned and relished the scrape of my hand running over my face. These Hunters. They were so damn smart. Nothing in my life came even close to the shit he’d endured, yet he let himself be happy again. “It’s scary, dude.” I froze when I realized I’d said that out loud.

  “If it wasn’t scary, it wouldn’t be real.” He took the beer from my hand and tossed it into recycling. Atta boy. “C’mon. I have something to show you.”

  The gallery. “How’d you know about this place?” I slammed August’s truck door closed.

  “Capri.” I smiled when he walked past me toward the small building.

  “She brought you here?” I asked feeling a little jealous. This was my place, and then I shared it with her. So now, it was our place, and I didn’t want to share her.

  “You’ll see,” he said stopping in front of the glass door, but he turned to look at me before he opened it. “When you see what’s in here, don’t talk.”

  “What the fuck, dude? Don’t talk?” I was offended. Out of the two of us, I was the one who had a right to talk in the art gallery.

  “No, at least not at first. Just look. Then think. Then look some more. Then you can talk.” He opened the door for me and I glared at him as I went in.

  “This is bullshit,” I grumbled then scanned the familiar space. Only, this time some new stuff was up. Awesome. I hadn’t seen the new work yet. I rubbed my hands together and walked into the first partitioned room.

  “Wow,” I said then looked at August, who folded his arms across his chest. I flipped him off. The first painting was amazing. The artist used only black paint adding white to lighten the paint in certain spots on the eye. They’d somehow captured so much life in a painting of one eye done in only one color. This eye, this eye was hilarious. I saw it in the way the white on black created a mischievous sparkle. “Right on, Bro.”

  “Did you just talk to the painting?” August whispered following me to the next one.

  “Don’t talk,” I told him as I widened my stance and folded my arms over my chest to check out the next one. This one was crazy. It was a dude’s neck. A no shit stubbly neck, but the way the artist painted the shadows, it looked like his Adam’s apple was stuck at the top of his throat. Dude was nervous. “I feel ya, homie,” I whispered.

  “Stop doing that. It’s weirder than you realize.” August followed me onto the next. It was a smile, a handsome smirk. Nice.

  “These are tight,” I said moving onto the next. “I feel like I connect with them ya know?” I asked aloud to August, but I was more talking to myself.

  “Oh, I know,” he said following me again.

  I couldn’t get to the next one fast enough. I could tell coming up on it from the side that it was an arm with a tat. “This one’s gonna be sweet,” I said pointing toward it and looking back at August. Then I turned around and tripped over my own feet at what I saw. “That’s my tat!” My shout echoed through the room. “Fool has my tat. That ain’t cool. Fuckin’ Pinterest.” I glared at my marlin painted onto a canvas in black and white, with a touch of brown this time.

  “It is,” August agreed.

  “Dude, I knew I liked this guy right up until homeboy had my piece on his arm.”

  “Your arm,” August said.

  “Yeah, right? It’s the same spot, too.” Ridiculous. I glanced at the next painting and saw something else familiar, the calloused hand of an artist. “Wait a minute,” I whispered to myself.

  Then I quickly walked to the next painting. It was an ear with a ridiculous diamond stud in it. Just like the one I got when I was seventeen. This couldn’t be right. I hurried to the next. It was a pair of Chucks. I moved in closer and saw the familiar splatter on the toe of the shoe from the first day Capri and I worked on the mural. I left it there.

  “What’s going on, dude?” I asked taking a step back and scanning the room. Every single one was of me. The room seemed to spin around me in little Wes’. Each one was phenomenal, capturing bits and pieces of me in a way that made me want to stand up a little straighter. Every emotion carefully crafted into the pieces was something admirable, respectful, and overall flattering. What should have creeped me the fuck out left me feeling appreciated, admired, loved?

  “What are you doing here?” her soft whisper echoed right to me. I turned, immediately closing the distance between us physically with every
intention of closing it emotionally.

  I stopped right in front of her, unable to breathe. I itched to grab her into my arms. She took a step back, “Why are you here?” she asked again with a little more sass. God, I loved when that happened. When she pulled aside her veil and busted my balls. I smiled at the thought, and a smile immediately tugged at her lips, but she wiped it clean. I loved that, too. How easy it was to make her smile, and how easy it was for her to smile.

  “Capri,” I said looking at every bit and piece of her that I’d missed over the last few weeks. Her guarded brown eyes were unfortunately glaring at me. I could remedy that. Her perfect lips puckered up, and the way her nose fought to scrunch up in amusement at the way I was looking at her. She was beautiful, and I loved how effortless it was for her. She never tried to be gorgeous, she just was.

  “Stop looking at me like that, and just tell me why you’re at my showing.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She tried to look pissed, but I caught a quick lapse of her tough girl act when her lips turned down in a pout. She was wondering if I was okay. Even when I acted like a certified jackass, she was still thinking of how I was. I loved that she was so caring even when she had no reason to be. She painted me. Like, a lot.

  I turned back and looked around the room again. Yep, there I was. I looked at her again as she wringed her hands together in front of her. “You love me,” I declared. It wasn’t a question. Her love for me was painted all across those canvases.

  She fell back at my words and held her hand over her chest. Okay, so she didn’t think I was too sharp. We could work on that. “Since when?” I asked stepping in closer to her. I wasn’t letting her get away this time.

  “Since I can remember,” she whispered eyes wide. I stepped in again and reached my hand up to cradle her face. I groaned like a pussy at touching her again after so long. I rubbed her cheek with my thumb. How could I have hurt this woman?