With her eyes closed, she tossed away the toy and slipped two fingers inside. Her body contracted instantly. She pressed her hand against her sex, rolling her hips as her orgasm burst through her and she cried out.
With her chest heaving from the exertion, she stared at the ceiling and wished Graeme was lying beside her. Wishing he had been the one to make her come. It had been so long since she’d felt the touch of a man. The only one she really wanted was him.
Her ringing phone broke into her dreamy state and she jumped, her nerves raw. She yanked the sheet over her nakedness, as if the person on the other end of the phone would know what she was up to. She snatched it up with a gruff hello.
“Did I wake you?” It was Delilah on the other end.
“No. I was just…lying here.” Wishing there was a man in my bed.
“How’d it go last night? Did you behave?”
“Yes, Mom.” Marion rolled her eyes. “I was a good girl and it went fine. Graeme loved your fricassee, by the way.”
“Great! And…?” Delilah prompted.
“And nothing. We had a nice dinner together and then he took me to the coffee house for dessert.”
“Mar, you’re not telling me something. You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“No!” Marion pushed to a sitting position. She raked a hand through her hair. “I did not. He didn’t even kiss me good night.”
That was not exactly true. He had kissed her. Just not when he dropped her off. And she had so wanted him to. She even leaned toward him, giving him the opportunity. She wanted to feel that mouth on hers again. “I suppose it’s because we ran into Ethan outside the coffee house.”
“Oh, no. Again? Is he stalking you?”
Marion couldn’t help but laugh. “With his new girlfriend in tow? I doubt it.”
“Wait. He has someone else?”
“Yeah, a big dumb blonde bombshell. He didn’t introduce me but she knows I’m the ex. And she also knows he came crawling back, begging to get back together.”
“How does she know that?” Delilah asked.
“I sort of told her.”
Her friend laughed. “Good for you, Mar. So what happened?”
“Oh, he was an ass. I did get to insult him a few times. Graeme was sweet about it too. He asked me to go to the art museum with him today.”
“Really? That sounds more than friendly.”
“We’ll see.” Marion smiled at the thought of more than friendly with Graeme. “Anyway, I don’t want him mad at me because Ethan keeps showing up.”
“As if that’s your problem. Ethan is the one with the problem. If you run into him again, I’m going to think he really is stalking you. Anyway, I wanted to see how it went last night. And to make sure you were a good girl.”
“Ha. I was.”
“And that’s perfectly okay too, you know.”
Marion smiled. Even though Delilah seemed against the match, Marion knew she wanted her to be happy.
“I’m headed to the mall. You want to come?” Delilah said.
“Nah, I’m off to the art store before Graeme picks me up. I have to get some stuff for my art class on Tuesday. Plus I want to look into pottery lessons.”
“Pottery?” Delilah didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “What for? Are you hiding from men in art or something?”
“I want to try something new. Besides, I suck at painting,” Marion said.
“Actually, I think you have a very strong future as a cubist.”
“Ha! Very funny.”
“I’ll catch you later.”
* * * * *
Marion made her way to Marshall Art Supply in downtown. There weren’t many art suppliers in the area and she found this one was the best as far as selection and choice. Not that she was a connoisseur of paint brushes or anything.
The store held some charm with its colorful artwork on the walls and the metal shelves separating the aisles. Far from a pristine store, the place had dust on items that had been there for years. But still, they knew their business and what people wanted and needed.
For her class, she needed a new canvas and some new paint colors. As she stood in front of the rows of brushes contemplating whether or not to purchase some new tools, the door chime sounded. She could hear a male patron talking to the girl behind the desk and the voice sounded vaguely familiar. Before she could investigate, one of the sales associates interrupted her.
“Can I help you find something, ma’am?”
She had been there enough to recognize the folks that worked there. He wasn’t familiar and looked fresh out of high school with a friendly, open face. And he called her ma’am, another sign she was much older than him.
She held the new canvas under her arm and several small jars of paint in one hand. “Oh. No, thanks, I’m good.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Up front, she could hear the counter girl going on and on about something. “I’ve seen your work. You’re so amazing.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that,” was the response.
That voice sounded so familiar. Marion stepped backward and peered around the edge of the end cap. There, standing with his wallet in hand, was Graeme. Her brows knit as she watched him pay for an item and the girl behind the counter batted her long lashes at him.
“I’m totally looking forward to your showing at the gallery,” she said. She leaned on the counter, allowing her scooped neck shirt to drape open and give him something to see. This, in Marion’s opinion, wasn’t all that much. “I have a friend who works there and she says your exhibit it going to be totally awesome.”
“Great,” he said, trying to remain cordial. “Then maybe I’ll see you there.”
From her viewpoint, Marion saw the tick in his jaw and suppressed a smile. Graeme had to be completely annoyed by this young thing that couldn’t stop flirting with him and, like, saying the word “totally.”
“I hope so.” And then in her best sing-song voice, “Bye, Graeme.”
He grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Marion rolled her eyes but she wondered what they were talking about. Graeme was going to have an exhibit at an art gallery? And even more shocking, an exhibit of…what? His paintings? She had to find out when and where because she would be there.
Her stomach knotted at the thought. Should she? Could she be so bold as to show up at the same place as Graeme, even if he hadn’t asked her to go anywhere with him? They had, after all, talked about art. And she liked art. She enjoyed wandering through the museums in town. Even though she’d never been to an art gallery, she imagined it wouldn’t be all that different.
She could see it now. She enters the gallery wearing her favorite dress and her high heeled shoes. She walks in, admiring a piece of framed artwork and then, suddenly, she sees him. He’s as surprised to see her as she is him. And then they’ll walk the rest of the gallery together, laughing and talking about art and having a great time. And then he’ll ask her out for a drink and she’ll say yes and they’ll end up back at her place.
Marion shook her head, releasing herself from the daydream. Focus, Marion, focus. First, she had to find out where and when.
Once Graeme was out of the store and out of sight, Marion headed for the counter. She placed her items there, trying to figure out a way to bring up the gallery showing. Better to jump in feet first and get it over with.
“Did you find everything okay, today?” the girl asked with a bright smile. Her nametag read Rebecca.
“I did, thanks. Um, that man that was here before me…” But that was as far as she got. Turns out, the girl was all too happy to oblige her with information.
“Graeme Butler. He’s so totally talented. I love his paintings. They’re awesome,” she said as she scanned the first item. “His art is inspiring and just…cool, you know? I’m hoping I can get into his art class next semester.” She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, clearly enamored with the semi-famous arti
st.
“He teaches?” Surprise flooded Marion. She had no idea and he never mentioned it the other night at dinner. Why wouldn’t he tell her?
“Like he’s famous. Duh.” The girl looked at her as though she were an idiot.
Graeme? Famous? In the art world? What the hell? She forced a fake smile. “Well, I’m new to the art world. What gallery can I see his work?”
“The Craig Mueller Gallery. He has a showing there on Friday. I’m totally excited. I can’t wait. Plus he’s so cute.” She popped her gum then gave a wistful sigh. “That’ll be thirty-two-seventy-five.”
And way too old for you. She couldn’t be more than eighteen.
Marion made a mental note to remember the Craig Mueller Gallery in Dallas as she handed over her check card. Since she wasn’t up on galleries in the area, she didn’t want to forget. She obviously didn’t know a lot about the art world.
“Thanks! Have a nice day,” the girl said, as she handed her the bag.
“You too.”
All thoughts of pottery lessons departed her mind. All Marion could think about as she left the building was the Craig Mueller Gallery and Graeme being famous.
Totally.
As soon as she got home, she dumped her supplies on the kitchen counter and headed for her computer. She did a Google search for the Craig Mueller Gallery and discovered it was in the arts district of Dallas. She scowled. She despised driving in Dallas.
But since it was for Graeme, she’d make an exception.
She hit the website and found information on the home page about an upcoming showing with local artist, Graeme Butler. There was even a little bio about him.
Graeme Butler found passion for art at the young age of six when he picked up his first paint brush. He was hooked ever since and painted his first masterpiece at the age of eight which still hangs on his parent’s refrigerator to this day.
He was classically trained and graduated from art school with honors from the University of North Texas. Shortly after receiving his degree, he began painting the human form, as well as toying with sculpture, while also working part-time as an art teacher.
He flirted with oil paints in his early canvases, but eventually preferred the more contemporary medium of acrylic. Drawn to the world of fantasy where the real meets the surreal, Butler studied artists such as Julie Bell and Boris Viejo. His fantasy art is so realistic and alive the viewer is quickly transported into a rich and imaginative world where the past merges with the future. His attention to detail in his work is impeccable.
Graeme Butler is an extraordinary new talent who is beginning to garner strong attention within and from outside the art world. His work is widely collected by institutions and individual collectors and has been shown in galleries across the United States. He has participated in shows and exhibitions both locally and across the country.
It is Craig Mueller Gallery’s honor and privilege to showcase these masterpieces. Opening reception Friday from 6:00 pm to 9:00 pm.
Marion read the words over and over, stunned to learn Graeme had a Bachelor’s of Fine Art. She had no idea. Nor had she known he went to college at UNT. Reading the bio again, it was clear she didn’t know Graeme very well at all. However, the one common thread they had was art but on two totally opposite ends of the spectrum—he painted masterpieces and she painted crap.
If she were going to the gallery on Friday, she’d need a new dress. And new shoes. And perhaps even a haircut…an eyebrow wax…and she may as well get a pedicure while she was at it.
And she certainly couldn’t go alone now that she knew Graeme was semi-famous. There was really only person she could ask to go with her. She reached for her phone and dialed the number.
“Delilah, how do you feel about art galleries?”
Chapter Eight
Marion had managed to talk Delilah into going to the opening with her to “run into” Graeme. Despite her refusal, Marion managed to convince her friend it’d be a fun outing.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to fake a run-in, Mar,” Delilah had said. “But, fine. I’ll go. There had better be cute boys there.”
Marion chuckled. Delilah often referred to men as boys because, in her mind, they all were. Men never grew beyond their adolescent years—or so Delilah thought.
As she hung up the phone, the doorbell chimed. Knowing Graeme was on the other side, she held her breath and smoothed her sweaty palms down her jeans. Armed with her new information about Graeme’s secret artistic ability, she would have to be careful not to blurt it out.
And anyway, she wanted to see if he was going to ante up the information. It was his idea to visit the museum after all.
“Hi, there,” he greeted when she opened the door.
He looked positively smashing in a blue Henley shirt and jeans. Her mouth watered. “Hi.”
“Ready?”
She nodded. “Let me get my purse.” He followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. “I’m really looking forward to this. I don’t think I’ve ever been to the Kimbell.”
“You’re kidding, right?” he asked, blinking in surprise.
“No.”
“It’s a great experience. Very calm and quiet.”
“Sounds serious,” she teased.
“Art is serious.” He sounded so passionate about it. Only after talking with the salesgirl did she understand he truly was.
She nodded again, tucking her cell phone into her purse. He stepped closer, the scent of his faint cologne wafting over her. Marion inhaled. His hands slid up her arms, pausing at her shoulders.
Looking up, she met his gaze and her breath caught. It wasn’t the fact he looked at her, but the way he looked at her so intently. As though he meant to—
His lips met hers in a soft, gentle kiss. Marion yielded instantly, leaning into him allowing his mouth to taste her. His goatee scratched against her skin, but she didn’t seem to mind one bit.
Stepping back, he took her hand. “There, that’s much better.” He grinned.
Yes. Yes, it was.
“I’m ready now,” she said.
But her voice was barely a whisper.
If Marion had known things were going to go like that, she would have dressed a little better instead of in her favorite faded blue jeans. And she would have taken a little more effort with her make-up and hair. Instead, as it was, she looked one step above a troll.
She would have to suck it up. There wasn’t time to go back now and make a change.
They headed to the museum in the cultural district, parked and went inside. She liked the way the place looked with the marble flooring and walls. She was glad for her quiet soft-soled shoes so she wouldn’t go clicking throughout the place.
Graeme seemed to know his art. He talked about everything they saw in the permanent collection. He even knew tidbits about certain artists Marion would have never had a clue about. She could tell he loved talking about the paintings and their artists. He would point from one painting to the next, his excitement evident on his handsome features.
The way his face lit up did incredible things for her. She couldn’t help but smile at him. She knew his deep dark secret—he really was passionate about art because he was an artist.
The only thing she was really that passionate about was shopping. Her credit card companies were as passionate about her shopping—she could single-handedly keep the economy running with her spending habits. Marion had to admit she was a little envious of his enthusiasm.
As they walked the museum, she smiled at him.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, trying to suppress it. “I never imagined you knew so much about art. It’s rather impressive.”
Graeme shrugged. “I like it. It’s my thing.”
“It’s really nothing to be ashamed of,” she said, sensing his hesitation. Perhaps he thought his love of art would make him less of a man. She could almost hear Ethan make fun of him. “Ethan never
mentioned to me how much you liked it.”
She was probing, hoping he’d offer her that most hidden inner secret.
“He doesn’t know,” Graeme said. “I never told him because I didn’t want all the shit he’d give me.”
Her eyebrows rose. This was curious. Ethan and Graeme were inseparable best friends. She thought they knew everything about each other. “Oh?”
“You know how Ethan is,” he said. “Art isn’t his thing.”
“Culture isn’t his thing,” she corrected and giggled. “I remember trying to get him to take me to the opera or the ballet many times. He always said no. He was afraid he’d have to turn in his man card if he was caught there.”
His fingers were still laced with hers and he squeezed her hand. “I’ll go.”
Then a funny thing happened. Her heart did this really weird tumble in her chest as she glanced at him, saw the look of complete sincerity on his face. He gave her a sweet half-smile and she knew he really meant it. He really would take her to the opera and the symphony and the ballet if she asked him.
“You’d go to the ballet?” she asked.
“Sure.” He shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. “My kid sister used to do that stuff all the time. My parents dragged me to all her recitals.”
She’d forgotten. His sister grew up in a tutu and ballet shoes.
Even if it truly wasn’t his thing, she had the distinct feeling he would go simply because she asked. She flushed and cleared her throat. “Maybe we’ll go sometime.”
“Maybe we will.” Realizing their gazes were locked, he looked away first. “You want to get something to eat? I’m starving.”
* * * * *
Their afternoon turned into an evening with dinner at a local Italian restaurant. They had pleasant dinner conversation and shared a bottle of wine, which went straight to Marion’s head.
As Graeme took her home, disappointment swept over her. Despite spending the last five hours together, she wasn’t ready for it to end. And she was feeling far too tipsy to let it go to waste. Plus, she was quite fond of him holding her hand, as he was doing now while they walked to her front door.
Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) Page 7