The Test (The List series)
Page 16
I’ve gotta admit, it’s been cool to have other people checking out my work.
A wet nose jabs into the back of my hand, and I look down at the baleful eyes of my dog. Well, our dog—mine and Lisa’s. Part bloodhound, part great-Dane, she looks like a steer with a thyroid condition. One of her long ears has gotten stuck under her lacy pink collar, and I untuck it as gently as possible.
“Hello, Miss Kitty,” I say. “How’s the party treating you?”
“She’s been a little naughty,” Lisa says. “I caught her begging Cassie for canapes.”
“The smoked salmon or the ones with the butternut squash and goat cheese?”
“The salmon, of course,” she says. “But Cassie gave her one of each to see which one she liked best.”
I pat the dog on the head. “Atta girl. A lady with a refined palate.”
Lisa laughs and picks up the tray of s’mores. “I should finish handing these out to guests,” she says. “Then I have a surprise to show you.”
I perk up at that, wondering if she bought another sexy lingerie set. I’ve become a big fan of La Perla over the last year. “Does the surprise involve you taking off your clothes?”
Lisa laughs and gives me a haughty expression. “As a matter of fact, it does.”
“That’s my favorite kind of surprise.”
She twirls away, and I watch her circulate around the warehouse handing out mini s’mores and compliments and smiles for everyone. People in her path light up as she passes, and my chest swells with pride that this amazing woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.
That’s right. I proposed last month over a big dinner party at our place. Her whole family was there, and I popped the question between the amuse-bouche and the hors d’oeuvre courses. I got down on one knee like a damn gentleman and asked her to fuck me senseless for the rest of our natural lives.
All right, I was more eloquent than that. And she said yes, which made me the happiest son of a bitch to ever walk the earth.
“Hey, Dax.” Junie sidles up with a smile on her face and a mini s’more in one hand. “I really like your art.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And thanks for coming tonight, too.”
Junie grins wider. “Did you hear I’ve been driving a car?”
“I did. Simon said you were doing drivers ed classes. How’s that going?”
“Great.” She beams. “And maybe after I get my license, I can get a motorcycle license, too.”
“That would be awesome,” I tell her, meaning it. “Let me know if you need a lesson or two.”
“Deal.” She looks down at the dog, who is eyeing her s’more with lust-filled eyes. “Can I take Miss Kitty for a walk?”
“Sure thing. Her leashes are on that hook by the door. Pick whichever one you want. I think the orange one you like is on the end.”
“Nah, she’s wearing the pink lace collar, so she needs the pink lace leash to match. Everyone knows that.”
I laugh as my dog trots off with Junie, all loyalties forgotten as she fixes her eyes on the s’more.
I turn my attention to a pair of guests who step up to ask me about my inspiration for one of the pieces. After that, the editor from some art magazine—the same guy we met at the show with the wolf photos—stops by to talk about connection between CoolTanks manufacturing and my artwork. I’m so focused on doing the artist thing that I lose track of Lisa for a moment.
The second she steps up behind me, I know she’s close. I sense her somehow, and I turn to see her beaming up at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, sexy. Got a sec?”
“I’ve got all the sex you want.”
She giggles and grabs my hand. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”
She tows me toward my private office, weaving through scattered pockets of people staring at the sculptures. When we get to the room, she shuts the door behind us and leans against the edge of my desk with a grin.
“You know how I said I had a spa appointment this morning?”
I nod and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, mostly an excuse to touch her. “Right, at that place downtown?”
“Yes, but I might have fibbed a little.” She smiles. “Not about the appointment, but what it was for.”
“What do you mean?”
She grins and slides her apron off over her head, then sets it aside on the desk. “Well, I went to get this.”
Before I can say anything, she turns around with her hands braced on the desk. My dick surges as she hikes up her skirt, and it takes me a second to realize it’s not an invitation.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, mesmerized by her left butt cheek. More mesmerized than normal, that is. “You got a tattoo?”
“Uh-huh.” She looks over her shoulder and gives me a smile that’s almost shy. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” I reach out to touch it, but remember at the last second to keep my hands off fresh ink that’s still healing. “It’s a wolf,” I say rather unnecessarily.
“It is,” she says. “I took the artist a picture of your sculpture and asked him to draw something inspired by that.” She slides her skirt back down and turns to face me. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I breathe. “It’s amazing.”
“I always used to say tattoos were tacky,” she admits. “Then I met you.”
I cross my arms, making sure to flash my own palette of ink. “Aren’t you the same woman who said you wanted to lick each of my tattoos, one by one?”
She grins and nods. “Exactly. I wanted my own to remind me that the things you can’t imagine yourself doing—the things that make you scared or scornful or judgey—those can end up being what you love most of all.”
“Your tattoo is great,” I say, eager for another glimpse of that delectable backside. “Let’s see it again.”
She turns and lifts her skirt once more, and I admire the ink up close. It’s small and tasteful, but exquisitely done. The perfect combination of artsy and edgy, beautiful and raw.
In other words, everything I love about my bride to be.
She drops her skirt again and turns back around. I pull her into my arms and slide my hands into her hair, marveling that she’s mine. That we get to go home together tonight. And the night after that, and the one after that.
I kiss her hard and deep and so fiercely that we’re both breathing hard by the time we come up for air.
“So, you like it, huh?” she says. “The tattoo?”
“Love it,” I murmur. “It’s bootylicious.”
She dissolves into giggles again, and I smooth my hands down her sides, so damn happy I could explode. “I love you, Lisa Michaels.”
“I love you, too, Dax Kensington. And I can’t wait until we’re alone together. I want to do bad things to you.”
Her words send a jolt straight to my cock, and I grip her hips a little tighter. “Well,” I say softly. “Did I ever show you the shower in this place?”
She smiles and cocks her head to one side. “I may have seen it a time or two.”
“Hmm,” I say. “Maybe you need a refresher course. A fresh introduction to the seedier side of life.”
She giggles again and nods. “Show me the way.”
“My pleasure.”
We turn and walk from the room side by side, fingers laced together in a perfect fit.
It’s exactly how we’ll be for the rest of our lives.
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Acknowledgments
Huge thanks to readers who loved The List and who wrote to me in droves wanting to know if Lisa’s story would be next. I’m grateful to you for buying my books and making it possible for me to forge a career out of playing with imaginary friends.
So much love to my critique partners and beta readers, including Linda Grimes and Kait No
lan. You make me a better writer and a better human.
A zillion hugs and kisses to Meah Meow for kicking ass as both a pet sitter and an author assistant. Thank you for improving my life dramatically over the last year.
Thank you to Karen Fernandez Vickers for naming Miss Kitty the dog, and to all the street teamers in Fenske’s Frisky Posse for being the best support team and sounding board an author could ask for.
Big bunches of gratitude to Michelle Wolfson of Wolfson Literary Agency for being my advocate, business partner, and friend these last ten years (which is crazy, since obviously, we’re both still in our mid-twenties. Did I start publishing books at fifteen?).
Thanks bunches to Liz Pelletier of Entangled Publishing, and to the entire Entangled team for all your hard work making my books the best they can be and getting them out to the masses. I’m grateful to Jessica Turner, Melanie Smith, Heather Riccio, Christine Chhun, Debbie Suzuki, Curtis Svehlak, Riki Cleveland, Shayla Fereshetian, and anyone else on the Entangled team who I might have inadvertently forgotten here. Love you guys!
Endless thanks to my family for all the love, support, and laughter over the years. Dixie and David; Russ and Carlie; Cedar and Violet—I couldn’t do this without you.
And thank you to Craig Zagurski for being my hero and partner in all the best ways. Love you, hot stuff.
About the Author
When Tawna Fenske finished her English lit degree at 22, she celebrated by filling a giant trash bag full of romance novels and dragging it everywhere until she’d read them all. Now she’s a RITA-nominated, USA Today bestselling author who writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Publishers Weekly has praised Tawna’s offbeat romances with multiple starred reviews and noted, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”
Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, stepkids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She loves hiking, snowshoeing, standup paddleboarding, and inventing excuses to sip wine on her back porch. She can peel a banana with her toes and loses an average of twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year. To find out more about Tawna and her books, visit www.tawnafenske.com.
Also by Tawna Fenske
The List
The Fix Up
The Hang Up
The Hook Up
Marine for Hire
Fiancée for Hire
Best Man for Hire
Protector for Hire
Eat, Play, Lust
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