“Well, she is more like you. And you seem to have lots to talk about.”
“And what about you? Should you only date other artists with pink hair?”
She snorted. She’d never seen any guys with pink hair. She got quiet.
“You want a list of reasons why I want to be with you?” he asked.
That was ridiculous. Insane. She was not that needy.
“Sure,” she said.
“Do you have a list of reasons why you want to be with me?” he asked.
“No, not right now, but I could make one.”
“Okay, I’ll make a list and you make a list, and then we’ll compare.”
“That sounds like the rational, brainy thing to do,” she said, biting back a smile.
“Mine will have a few equations.”
“Mine will be illustrated.”
“I look forward to it.”
“As do I.”
They took one look at each other and cracked up.
Amber changed the subject, embarrassed she’d ever brought up such a ridiculous topic. She wasn’t in competition with her sister. She didn’t need Bare to tell her why she was special. She asked him about working with Delilah, the older actress who played Ruth. Lately Delilah had spent a lot of time bitching and moaning to Amber backstage about some of the younger actresses.
Bare, being Bare, had no complaints. He seemed to always see the good in people. Seeing her stepmother again, hearing the three of them talk, had put her back in that awful place where she was the outsider. That stuff shouldn’t matter now. She lived on her own, supported herself. She was living the life she was meant to be living.
Bare parked the car at the high school and turned to her. “Look, I could write down equations for you. Compose a few equivalencies to prove the sum of us together is greater than the sum of our parts, but you and I both know the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.”
She did. But what did that mean exactly?
He cradled her face with one hand, and she waited for the kiss, the physical expression of why he wanted to be with her. It was why all men wanted her—her looks, her body. She closed her eyes.
His voice came out in a husky growl. “The short answer is I’m falling for you, not Kate.”
Her eyes flew open. She met his warm brown eyes and saw love shining back at her. She blinked away stinging hot tears, couldn’t even speak past the lump in her throat. She nodded.
“Now you know,” he said softly. His thumb brushed her cheek where a tear had leaked out. “I’d ask what you’d put in an illustration, but I’m afraid to know.”
She found her voice again. “Your big heart.”
He smiled. “My mother always says I’m a gem.”
“You are.”
His thumb stroked down her cheek. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”
“You already have,” she choked out.
He kissed her then, a tender kiss that she fell into slowly, inevitably, where she belonged. All of her insecurities faded because this was not just physical between them. There were feelings here. Real emotion.
He pulled back. They could hear voices nearby as more of the cast arrived for rehearsal.
“We should go,” he said.
She walked to the auditorium with him, hand in hand, their fingers entwined. There was something about Bare. He was so solid, so steady, so unlike any of her ex-boyfriends, who she always hoped would stick around, but never did. She knew she had abandonment issues because of her mother. Two years of forced therapy as a teen had taught her that it wasn’t her fault her mother left, and that she had every right to be angry and sad, all of which did nothing to soothe her pain. She didn’t fall in love quickly or easily, had only been in love once before with a guy that ultimately didn’t love her back, but somehow, Bare, with his easygoing, smiling way, had worked his way into her heart. It scared her. Some part of her kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
~ ~ ~
After a long rehearsal, where Delilah threatened to walk out twice because as she said in a shrill, dramatic voice, “I cannot work this way,” Amber joined the cast and crew at Garner’s bar for a drink.
“Here’s our girl,” Zac said, appearing at Amber’s side and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “I know you’re in love with me, but I’m in love with the fair Mabel.”
She giggled. Zoe called over from a few stools away. “Is that my fair Frederic?”
The two did an exaggerated slow-motion run toward each other, holding hands, and turning in a slow, happy circle.
Amber laughed.
“Come here,” Bare said, pulling her close and giving her a kiss on the lips.
She smiled against his lips. He responded by pulling her onto his lap. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her securely in place.
Steph stopped by for a refill on her mojito. “Didn’t I tell you theater was fun?” She elbowed Amber. “Admit it.”
“It is fun,” Amber said.
“Ha!” Steph said triumphantly.
“As long as I’m back stage,” Amber finished.
“We’re doing Grease next year,” Toby said. “Think about it.”
“I played Danny in Grease back in high school,” Bare offered.
“Of course you did,” Kevin muttered, tossing back a shot.
“I’ll be Sandy,” Lauren said, blowing him a kiss.
Amber wiggled on Bare’s lap to distract him. His hands clamped on her hips, stilling her.
“Wench,” he growled in her ear.
She giggled.
“You’re going to be a Pink Lady with me next summer,” Steph told Amber.
“I’ll be one of the T-birds,” Bare said.
“You’ll be Danny,” Steph said. “Don’t kid yourself. As long as you want to be in Eastman Community Theater, you’ll be the lead. Right, Toby?”
Toby turned and droned in the tone of someone who repeated the line often, “Everyone has to audition each season and wait for the cast list.” He did a slow nod at the same time.
“He’ll have to fight me for the role!” Zac said, raising his finger in mock swordplay, clashing it against Bare’s hand. Bare crooked his finger around Zac’s.
“May the best greaser win!” Bare said.
“Fuck you all,” Kevin said before slamming his drink on the bar and marching out the door.
“Drama queen,” Zac muttered.
“I’m surrounded by divas,” Toby moaned.
Temperamental artists, one and all, Amber thought. She understood these people. She poured all of her artistic, creative energy onto the canvas, drawing from deep inside. They poured all of their artistic, creative energy outwards, drawing from each other.
She turned and looked up at Bare over her shoulder. “I want to paint you tomorrow.”
“Me?”
She smiled. “Yes, you.”
“Careful,” Zac warned. “She might want to show you her etchings. You know what that means.”
They both stared at him in confusion.
Zac did an exaggerated eye roll. “Etchings? Come up for a cup of coffee? It’s all the same deal.”
“I don’t have any etchings,” Amber said.
“Forget it,” Zac said. “If I have to spell it out for you”—his voice dropped to an exaggerated stage whisper—“S-E-X, then you’re too ignorant to be allowed to go there.”
Zac grinned and finished his piña colada with a loud slurp.
“You’re so bad,” Bare said. “Go find Kevin and look at his etchings.”
“Maybe I will,” Zac said. He turned to go, then swiveled back, hitting Bare with a saucy look. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Bare’s voice rumbled in her ear. “I think I do.”
She laughed.
“You two are a hot mess,” Zac huffed before making a dramatic exit.
They laughed. A short while later, they headed home.
Bare dropped her off at her door. “Get so
me sleep. You’ll need your energy tomorrow to paint all this.” He gestured to his body with a grin.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him goodnight. He pulled away quickly, leaving her wanting more.
“Where are you going?” she pouted.
The distance between them kept increasing as he was slowly backing away.
“A man can only take so much,” he said.
“You want me,” she said, hoping to get him back, hoping to pull him inside her apartment and have her way with him despite feeling kind of droopy and tired. She’d been looking forward to it all day.
“Aye,” he said. “Night, Amber.”
Then he was gone. Disappointed, she went inside, past a sleeping Kate on the sofa, and crashed into bed. She was asleep instantly.
Chapter Nine
The next day Amber slept in. It was Sunday, which meant no rehearsal, and she was eager to get back to painting. Bare would be by in the afternoon for his portrait, so she first worked on an abstract. She added a blaze of deep purple on top of the black and red already there, watching the way the colors merged and blurred at the edges. She’d missed painting tremendously, not having the energy between work and the play’s intense rehearsal schedule. Now she had the whole summer open before her. For a while there, she’d been selling a lot of paintings to this one collector, Susan Dancy, which had sent her into a painting frenzy, trying to keep up. That had dried up. She’d been so giddy about it and reported to Bare daily about her sales. He was so happy for her too.
Kate was absorbed in whatever she did on her laptop and was quiet as a physicist all morning. After she finished her painting and lunch, Amber went to fetch Bare and decided she wanted to paint him as the Pirate King. She wanted to capture what he brought to the character. As the Pirate King, he had swagger and confidence wrapped around a tender heart. The combination was immensely appealing. She set up a chair next to her easel for him and stopped across the hall to see if he was game.
Ian answered the door. “Hey, gorgeous. ’Sup?”
“Hey. Is your brother home?”
Ian leaned one arm against the door frame above her head. “Just you and me. Want some company?”
“Who is it?” Bare called.
Amber gave Ian a look.
Ian winked. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He turned and told his brother. “It’s some delusional girl who thinks you’re all that.”
“Lauren?” Bare asked.
Amber froze. He was expecting Lauren to stop by?
Bare appeared in front of her. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Yeah, it’s me. Disappointed?”
Bare shoved his brother out of the way, who seemed to be enjoying the little scene. “Of course not. Come in.”
She stepped inside.
“Ian, get lost,” Bare said.
“Where am I supposed to go?” Ian moaned.
“You don’t have to go,” Amber said.
Ian inclined his head, gave her a quick up and down, and wandered into the kitchen.
She turned to Bare. “I just wanted to see if you’d sit for your portrait as the Pirate King. I thought it would be cool.”
He looked wary.
“What?”
“You only like me for my pirate side.”
She cocked her head. “Does it really matter?”
He thought for a moment. “No. Be right back.”
A short time later, he returned in his pirate costume complete with snug breeches and black leather boots. And an eye patch. She went hot all over. What was it about Bare the Pirate King that was such a turn-on? It was ridiculous. But he just had so much more swagger. Like any minute he was about to toss her over his shoulder and have his wicked way with her.
“See? I knew it was the costume,” Bare accused. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
She tried for innocent. “What look?”
Ian returned to check it out. “Yup. She wants you. Hit that while you can.”
“Ian!” they said in unison.
Ian shrugged. “What? You know you want to.”
“Don’t mind him,” Bare said, grabbing Ian by the shoulders and turning him away. “Let’s go.”
They got back to her apartment. Kate tore herself away from her laptop for the first time that day, took one look at the Pirate King, and whimpered. Amber rolled her eyes.
“Wow,” Kate breathed. “Hi, Barry, I was just researching a new method to calculate extremely large prime numbers.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah.” Kate sighed. “Did you know I always use prime numbers less than a hundred when I program the microwave?”
Amber stared at her.
“That could work,” Bare said. “Seventeen, forty-three—”
“Fifty-seven,” Kate finished for him with a dreamy smile.
Amber grabbed Bare’s arm. “Okay, sit here and try not to move.”
Bare sat. Kate stared at him with unwavering lust from her perch on the sofa. Amber picked up her brush. Bare looked self-conscious as her sister’s eyes burned a hole in his chest.
Amber turned. “Kate, could you do something else? It’s hard to focus with an audience.”
Kate never took her eyes off Bare. “What should I do?”
He adjusted his eye patch and sat up straighter.
“Could you do more of that prime number stuff?” Amber asked.
“Yeah, sure.” Kate opened her laptop and went back to staring at Bare.
“Would you like to meet my brother Ian?” Bare asked Kate.
“Is he anything like you?” Kate asked.
“Sure,” Bare said. “We both like computers. We’re both six foot. He’s the one at M.I.T.”
Kate leaped off the sofa. “Take me to him.”
Amber looked from Kate to Bare. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Kate turned on Amber. “Why?” she demanded. “I want a Barry too.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and promptly turned red.
Bare waved that away. “I’ll tell Ian to be on his best behavior. Come on, Kate.” He offered his arm, and she rushed over to take it. Kate turned to give Amber an amazed smile on her way out. Amber smiled tightly.
Ian would eat her sister for breakfast.
A few minutes later, Bare returned. “Alone, at last.”
“How did it go?”
“Great. I told Ian that Kate was heading to M.I.T. for grad school. She wanted the inside scoop on campus life, and Ian was happy to tell her all about it.”
“Just talking.”
“He’s not an animal.”
She hmphed. “Okay, sit.”
“How about this?” He stood with one hand crossing his chest like he was at the helm of a ship.
“Can you hold that position?”
“Absolutely. I am the Pirate King, and this is my ship, the H.M.S. Amber is Hot.”
She laughed and started painting. “Okay, stop talking. I need to capture your face in a commanding position.”
“So you like when I’m in command?”
She glanced up. His brows were raised in question. “No,” she said even as she heated at the idea.
He gave her a slow, sexy smile. “You do.”
She clamped her mouth shut, but couldn’t help the blush she felt creeping up her neck as she suddenly realized why she liked him so much as a pirate. The same reason she liked edgy guys. She liked a guy who took charge.
He tapped his head. “Filing that info away. I’m an excellent role player. I can be anything you want.”
Anything? He was a very good actor. Cool it. Focus. We’re not going 50 Shades of Grey here.
“Stop talking.” She stared unseeing at the canvas. What would he be like in bed? Sweet and gentle or playing the commanding pirate to her wench, or something in between?
“Do I get something for being a good model?” She could hear the smile in his voice.
She shook her head, giving up on painting his face and switching to a l
ight outline of the breeches and boots in black. “Sure. What do you want?”
“You.”
She put her brush down. “Are you saying you want to trade sex for a modeling job?”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “No?”
She laughed.
“What would you trade sex for?” he asked.
“Bare! I wouldn’t trade sex for anything. Now be quiet.”
He got quiet, and she painted. It was something about the way he held his body as the pirate. He stood taller somehow, shoulders back, and his expression lost that goofy smile. Yet, even serious, his eyes with their laugh lines spoke of a gentle playfulness.
“Unbutton your shirt more,” she said.
He unbuttoned slowly. “Now this is getting interesting.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” she said as she took in his rippling abs.
“You like my six-pack abs?”
“Are there six?” She walked over to see for herself.
She placed a palm over his ribs and slowly moved down, counting to herself, trying to act casual like she wasn’t getting hot and incredibly turned on. They were spectacular. She wanted this pirate to ravish her.
“There better be,” he said, “or I’m sending a very harshly written letter to the creator of the Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days DVD.”
She was so startled she dropped her hand. She’d seen the infomercial for that DVD with its ripped men and women exercising like crazy to top 40 songs. “You work out to that DVD?”
He crossed his arms. “Damn right I do.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. And laughed and laughed. She crossed her arms over her stomach and bent over with it.
He turned and said over his shoulder, “Do I still have a two-pack butt at least?”
That set her off again.
He grabbed her and swung her up in his arms. “I’ll teach you to mock the Pirate King.”
He carried her to the sofa. She wiped her eyes and settled down. “Bare, my paints are gonna dry. I’m not done.”
“Tax for the mocking. One kiss.”
Then his mouth crashed down over hers, like a pirate who took what he wanted, and she reveled in it, clutching his shirt and forgetting all about her painting.
Finally he pulled back. His eyes were dark with desire. “Amber,” he said, his voice a near growl that had her insides clenching with need, “finish the painting before I take you right here, right now.”
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