Covered In Paint: Book Five of the Art Of Love Series

by Donna McDonald

  “It’s me.”

  Brandon nodded. “Yes. And it’s beautiful. He has your hair perfect, even the way it catches the light. When he hit the cognac bottle this time, he’d just finished your hair. Instead of crying like he did with Mom, Dad started drinking. Then I heard him wrapping up more of the cancer portraits. I think he’s giving them away. I don’t know what’s on his mind. He’s drawing inside him again.”

  Brooke let the tears fall, blinking away what she could. “This…do you think this is how he sees me?”

  Brandon nodded again. “Yes. Dad has only ever painted two women. I knew he loved you when you were only graphite lines on his canvas. For a week, I couldn’t tell who the woman was—just knew it wasn’t Mom. You need to understand that Dad will feel for you whether you let him share what happens or not. And you will live on now, no matter what happens, because Dad will make sure you do. This is more than Dad’s art. It’s how he shares his life with the world. Your decision about whether or not to be involved with him won’t really change what he goes through. Or at least…that’s my guess.”

  It was her turn to nod. She lifted her arms and the boy came into them. “Thank you for helping me understand,” she whispered.

  The tight hug she received back was more than forgiveness…it was absolution. And it was a bit like being reborn.

  ***

  Drake rolled to the floor and stumbled to his bathroom to relieve himself. Leaving the door open, he switched on a nightlight to avoid the blinding overhead lamp.

  After taking care of necessary business, he took stock of how bad off he was. His head was thumping something fierce—probably from dehydration. He had only himself to blame. He needed to get some water in his system to counteract the drying effects of the alcohol.

  Groaning at how much effort it took, he managed to brush his teeth. Then, feeling too lazy to walk to the kitchen, he bent to drink water straight from the faucet until the worst of his thirst had passed.

  After splashing a good amount on his face to make himself feel better, he patted it dry with a hand towel. The cognac headache was still driving his body, but at least he had shoved most of the grossness to the backseat.

  He was heading back to bed when he caught a movement in it from the nightlight. Tiptoeing to the edge, he looked down at a bare-shouldered woman whose long hair was currently splayed across the pillow next to his. He didn’t know whether to be angry or exceedingly grateful.

  “It doesn’t matter. Be whatever you need to be. I’m not leaving, no matter how mad you get,” Brooke said huskily, rolling to her back to stare up at the man looming over her.

  “Did I say what I was thinking out loud?”

  “Yes…but I don’t mind the venting. You have a right to be angry…but it’s late. Maybe you can shelve being pissed at me tonight and take it back up tomorrow morning. I’m staying for breakfast too.”

  Drake snorted. “I’m too hung over to play word games, Dr. Daniels. If I had known you were here, I would have at least closed the bathroom door.”

  Brooke chuckled at his modesty worrying him. She hadn’t even been sure he’d talk to her. Seeing him naked had been a treat. She wasn’t going to hold his vulnerability against him.

  “I hate to destroy another illusion so early in our fledgling relationship, but I have watched guys pee before. Trust me, you’ve got great aim compared to some I’ve known. However, you did look a little like a girl holding your hair back while you brushed your teeth.”

  Drake’s sigh came out as exasperated as he felt. “Are you some drunken, torturous nightmare I’m having?”

  Brooke laughed. “Maybe.”

  Grunting, Drake lifted the covers and slid naked into the bed beside the woman he still stupidly wanted in his life even after she tried her best to break his heart.

  “I’m going to tell you something I couldn’t get to come out of my mouth after your pathetic breakup speech today. We’re not breaking up, Brooke Daniels. They don’t make cognac strong enough to help me survive it. We’re just going to have to tough this shit out whether we like it or not.”

  Brooke snorted. “Okay. I’m willing to play this relationship out a little longer if you are. That’s actually why I’m here.”

  Drake snorted back. “Just okay and we’re back to being involved again? That was too easy. What’s the catch?”

  She moved restlessly against the pillow and pulled the sheets up to her neck. “I was just scared, Drake. I still am.”

  “Well, I get that. I’d be scared too if I found a lump anywhere. Waiting to find out what it was would be an unspeakable torture.”

  “Drake—stop empathizing. I’m not scared about the damn lump…or at least…not the way you think. What I’m scared about is watching you hurt for me. I don’t think I’m brave enough to deal with seeing that starkness in your eyes every day. I’m not equipped to worry about how you’re faring emotionally every second. My mother is bad enough. And if the lump is cancer…you are forbidden to ever paint me in my decline. I understand why you might have done it with your wife, but I don’t want people years from now seeing me that way…especially not your son.”

  Drake slid closer and put an arm around her waist. “You’re asking for promises I can’t make to you. I have to paint what I have to paint, Brooke. It’s about not letting your art drive you insane. But I will try to honor your requests if I can. Now I don’t want to talk about the future…I refuse to think about the lump being cancer. I’m in denial about it. Let me stay there a little longer.”

  “Good,” Brooke said, cuddling against his warmth. “I don’t want to think about it either. I’m in denial too.”

  Drake hugged her warmth to him, still trying to take in that she was there. “I know we’ll have to deal with the problem at some point…just not tonight.”

  Brooke nodded against his neck. “We’ll let everyone else worry for us. They’re going to anyway. I’ve come to realize you can’t stop family from worrying about you…and Larsons raise that to a level taller than any skyscraper you’ve seen.”

  Drake chuckled and kissed her forehead. “What did the incorrigible Larsons do this time?”

  Brooke sighed. “Nothing worth mentioning. I handled them. My family likes you, Drake.”

  Drake grinned in the dark. “That’s not really an answer to my question.”

  “Sure it is…now go to sleep. We’re having breakfast with your son so he’ll stop worrying about us too. Although he’s worried most about us fighting. I think he’s also worried about his father coming unglued again.”

  “Are you chastising me about my parenting?”

  “No…I’m telling you I’m in love with the son as much as the father. I want to take enough worry away from him so he go enjoy a frat party like other guys his age.”

  “Well, I’m his father, and I don’t want him at frat parties at all.”

  “Drake—stop. We’ll argue about this in the morning. Please?”

  Drake sighed and held on. “Are we ever going to get along better?”

  Brooke sighed and hugged back. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s been in the serious long-term relationship before. I feel like I’m stumbling around in a dark room with the lights off.”

  “Well, here.” He placed her hand on his growing interest in her. “Hold on to this and you won’t get lost.”

  Brooke chuckled, but left her hand where it was, stroking gently. “You are such a typical guy. Is that erudite professor slash poetic artist thing just your way of seducing women?”

  Drake moved against her hand as he ran his fingers through her hair. The pain of what she’d said to him hadn’t quite gone away, but it was easing.

  “I use the good poetry and flirting only on one woman at a time,” he whispered. “Is it working on you?”

  Brooke paused in her stroking at his hopeful tone. “Drake—I’m truly sorry about hurting you today.”

  “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I didn’t have the reaction you were looking
for, that instead I had one that made you want to break up with me. I’ll try not to do that ever again.”

  Brooke lifted her hands, sniffled, and pulled him into her arms. “Feel what you feel and be yourself. Don’t let what’s happening to me change you too much. I would hate that…I really would.”

  Drake kissed away the hot tears streaming down her cheek and held her close. “Oh baby, I don’t think I can promise you that. Love changes people just as much as cancer does.”

  “Yes…that’s what worries me,” Brooke whispered, pulling on Drake’s body until he rolled on top of her.

  Chapter 15

  “Well, at least she spent the night in his bed. Aunt Teresa made Shane sleep on the floor when he stayed over. How did they act at breakfast?”

  Brandon shrugged. “Strange. They didn’t fight, but they didn’t talk much either. Brooke never even had a second cup of coffee. She ate in two minutes and then made up an excuse and left. They barely spoke to each other as she said goodbye to us.”

  Chelsea nodded. “That’s not necessarily bad. When Mom and Dad used to fight, it would sometimes take two or three days for them to make up completely. I hated the way it was always tense until something happened to shake it up. You never knew what it was going to be, but it was usually Dad that made things better. Mom was tough on him, I guess.”

  “My mom and dad stopped fighting when they found out she had cancer. Actually…I don’t remember them fighting much at all. They either got along really well, or they hid all their fights from me. I think that’s why I hate relationship drama…and why I don’t date much. I was never exposed to that sort of crap.”

  Chelsea chuckled. “If people don’t fight some, how are they ever supposed to settle their differences? My Aunt Jillian says a good compromise takes a lot of work from both people. Aunt Teresa and Shane fight weird…it’s like all nice sentences full of innuendoes…but they figured out how to make it work for them.”

  Her bedroom door flew back on its hinges with a slam as it hit her bedroom wall. “Hey! What the hell is going on in here? No boys allowed in the bedroom, Chelsea.”

  “It’s not a boy. It’s just Brandon. Now get out of my room, you big dweeb.”

  Brian laughed and stared at ‘just Brandon’ as he spoke. “So what…are you like one of Chelsea’s gal pals or something now? Dude…I didn’t think you swung that way.”

  Brandon gave Chelsea’s younger brother the finger from his position on the floor. He watched Chelsea pick up a small, hard pillow and throw it at her brother, who laughed and dodged it. Then she bounded from the bed in one giant leap to chase him out. She slammed the door closed behind him and locked it. He was suddenly very aware she had also locked the two of them in there alone.

  Brandon studied Chelsea’s long legs, her fitted t-shirt, and her curvy hips as she walked back and climbed onto her bed again. He definitely thought of her as a girl, even if she was too young for him.

  “So seriously…I’m not a boy to you?”

  Chelsea laughed at the concern she heard in the question. It made her smile…not that she was interested in Brandon that way…but it was nice to know her opinion mattered.

  “Tell me you are not going to let my brother psych you out. Brian is a straight-up dweeb with no mercy for the weak. You need to stay mentally strong around him.”

  Brandon rubbed his head. “What would Zach do if he saw me in here alone with you?”

  “Kick your ass…but that’s just what big brothers do,” Chelsea admitted, laughing at his obvious anxiety about Zach doing just that. “Will you relax? You’re totally safe. Zach has his own apartment now. He’s almost never home anymore. I’m the oldest child in the house which means I get to call the shots. This is the only private place I have where we can talk without everyone hearing the conversation.”

  “Why does your speech not reassure me? Oh I know…it’s because I don’t trust your judgment about guys. How many have you brought in here?”

  Chelsea’s eyebrow arched as she slid off the bed again. She walked to the door and opened it. She turned a glare in his direction as she pointed “out” with her finger.

  Sighing because he knew he’d messed up big with his comments, Brandon climbed reluctantly from the floor. “Look…I’m sorry. That was probably out of line. What you do is none of my business…”

  “Gee…do you think? Out…now.”

  Brandon felt a hard push on his back just before he got slammed into the opposite wall of the hallway. When he righted himself, he heard Brian laughing. Brandon glanced down the hall and saw Brian with his arms crossed. The boy’s grin irritated him.

  “What happened, dude? Did you make a pass at her?”

  Brandon snorted. “No. I would never make a pass at your sister.”

  “Well, no wonder she threw you out. She’s not that bad looking. Dude…you’re totally lame.”

  Brandon watched the boy turn and saunter away humming. He followed after him like a lemming running off a cliff. “Just what are trying to say, Brian? I’m almost two years older than her. There’s nothing like that going on.”

  Brian shrugged. “That’s what I’m saying…nothing. I’m saying nothing. You’re not her type anyway. I don’t even know why she’s being nice to you when she won’t go out with any of Zach’s college friends. They have way more game than you do.”

  Brandon sighed. His relief to hear Chelsea wasn’t dating made him uncomfortable. He had enough to worry about. But he fixed a stare on her kid brother. “Are you trying to tell me I’m the reason your sister is turning down dates with other guys?”

  Brian shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve been wrong before…I’m probably wrong this time. Chelsea is not exactly normal. You’re not her typical dude to date either. Being a student of nature, I guess I’m just curious.”

  “Well stop being curious. Your sister and I are just friends,” Brandon insisted.

  “Not surprising. Until you get some different game, that’s all you’re going to be, Dude.”

  Shaking his head at Brian’s laughter, Brandon huffed out a breath and headed for the front door. He and Chelsea…they weren’t a…thing. They were just friends…okay good friends since he’d saved her from Dipwad Daryl…who had apologized profusely when he saw him a week later. Apparently the Larson reputation for taking care of things had scared Daryl shitless when he realized how badly he’d messed up. His acceptance into the frat had come with no prove-yourself strings and a unanimous vote sponsored by Daryl himself.

  Cursing the sudden image in his head of Chelsea chasing Daryl from her room with the same intensity, Brandon got into his car and drove off. His mind moved to remembering the look in Chelsea’s eyes just before she’d thrown him out of her room. She’d used a lot more force than he’d anticipated. Her fierceness brought a stupid grin to his face. Did she really like him more than she let on? If so, why was she playing it so cool with him?

  “Damn it, Dad. You just had to pass on your interest in difficult women to me, didn’t you?”

  Brandon laughed as he turned on the radio to distract himself.

  ***

  Jessica rocked in her chair and stared through the screens of her summer porch at the marble column in the yard. Her work…Will’s work…in fact nearly everything in her life seemed superficial to her this morning. All she could think about was that her daughter might have cancer. How was she going to handle it if it turned out to be true?

  She turned at the scrape of a plastic chair across the wooden porch floor and blinked at the man who sat down in it.

  “Honey, you’re going to have to nap today. You didn’t sleep at all last night,” he said.

  Jessica turned away to look out in the yard. “I’m sorry I was so restless. I couldn’t stop thinking about Brooke. She’s my child, Will. I know she’s a grown woman to most of the world, but sometimes I look at her and all I see is the infant I held in my arms. This shouldn’t be happening to her. I’m her mother…I…”

  Will reached o
ut and put his hand on his wife’s arm. “You want to stop it…I know…I understand. And I’m sure I would feel the same if this were happening to the boys…or their wives. Or God…even to Ellen…cancer is a bitch of a disease.”

  Jessica put a hand to her mouth to hold back the sob. “I feel so helpless. You spend your life trying not to let anything hurt your children. But there’s nothing I can do about this, is there?”

  Will rubbed her arm in sympathy. “No honey…all you can do is pray…and hope that’s not what it is…and be there for Brooke if it turns out badly. But you won’t be alone, no matter what Brooke finds out.”

  Letting the tears seep out and run down her cheeks, Jessica leaned over until she could hide her face in Will’s shoulder. His arms around her were strong…but nothing was strong enough to chase away her fear this morning.

  At least she had Will to hug her. Would her daughter let down her guard long enough to let a man comfort her? She had tried to make her daughter strong enough to deal with the kind of disappointment and pain loving a man often caused. But she was now watching that same self-reliance keep Brooke from letting a very good man love her.

  She lifted her head and one hand to her husband’s face. His gaze was worried, and it was for her as well as for her daughter.

  “Whatever happens…thank you for being in my life. I can’t imagine living without you,” she whispered.

  Will kissed her trembling lips, then her cheeks and tear-filled eyes. “Why don’t we stop worrying about what hasn’t happened yet? We don’t know that it’s cancer. I’ve been reading about this and most lumps are benign. They might find out it’s nothing serious at all.”

  Jessica sniffled and nodded. “I know…I’ve been reading about it too. I just…I guess I’m being a mother. Worrying about your child is just part of the gig, isn’t it?”

  Will kissed her temple. “Yes…and perfectly understandable.”

  “It’s shit though…” Jessica whispered.

  “Yes, it is…” Will whispered back. “Worrying about your kids is total shit at times.”