Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) (12 page)

“I’m not saying we ignore it. I’m saying…I wish I could explain it better, but I’m a painter, not a poet.” She looked at him with wide eyes, as if she was just caught stealing candy. “I like you,” she confessed. “A lot…”

Bear’s stomach took a dip. Wasn’t this how all those
let’s just be friends, it’s not you it’s me
conversations started. He braced himself. “But?”

“No buts.” She shrugged. “I think you might like me a little bit too.”

Relief washed over him. If she hadn’t looked so serious, he’d have laughed. “Just a little.” He held up his hand with his thumb and forefinger and inch apart.

“Then maybe we should take your
little bit
and my
a lot
and…see what happens. Leave the labels off, just let it be what it is.”

“Keep it easy,” he suggested.

Kay agreed. “Exactly. Easy.”

Bear leaned back against the doorjamb and considered her. “Easy isn’t a word I’d use to describe you in any way. And
easy
sure as hell isn’t what I’m feeling.”

“I can’t promise you any more than that.” She studied his feet.

“So what does this mean?”

Kay straightened and squared her shoulders. “It means I’ll go with you to Portland on Thursday.”

“And after?” He knew he shouldn’t press. Maybe it was the beer talking, but he needed to know. He had no intention of playing games. Not with her. It had taken a lot for Kay to come out here, but he wanted there to be no more question as to what he wanted.

She took a breath and gave him a quick smile. “How about we get there when we get there.”

“Okay. Thursday. Walter’s taking Shadow for the day and lending me his truck. I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way over there.”

“Sounds good.” She looked relieved and started to walk away. “I’ll see you then.”

“Wait.” He straightened from the doorframe. “I need to be clear here. We’re great at this verbal sparring business. I don’t care what we call what’s happening between us. Truth is, I want you. Plain and simple. We can go as easy as you’d like, but I can’t deny how I feel about you.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do.” She was back to looking out past the point. “I don’t want to examine us to death. I don’t want to stress over everything I say and do. Dissect every moment. Replay every conversation in my head searching for hidden meanings. I don’t want that.” She looked back at him. “I want to spend time with you. Be with you, and not worry about either of us making it more than it needs to be.”

“Understood.” He wished she didn’t look so panicked. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her off, but he was past the flirting. She was scared. He got that. It was time to prove to her he wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t out to hurt her, take whatever he could get and walk away. He wished he had the words to convince her. “We’ll take it nice and easy. No strings.”

“Perfect.” She smiled. “That’s all I want.”

“You got it.” It was the first time he’d outright lied to her. No strings? He was so tied up in her now, he could knit a sweater. There was no way he could do the friends-with-benefits thing. Not with her. But he had to give her credit. Whatever her reasons, she was being honest. He was walking into this minefield with his eyes wide open. If his heart was blown to smithereens, it was no one’s fault but his own.

“Great. Then I’ll see you Thursday.”

“We’ll be crawling through some dusty antique shops; dress casual. But pack a change of clothes. I’m taking you to my favorite restaurant for dinner after.”

Thursday finally came following a week of relative calm. If you call wading through building inspections, half a dozen calls from Diane, and needing a new septic tank calm. But every night Kay arrived to work. With her came quiet. The phones stopped ringing, the saws and hammers went silent. It was as if her paintbrush was a magic wand. Bear would leave for home much more collected than he otherwise would have.

And in the morning, he would enter the lobby, and marvel at what her magic wand had done in the night. Before the chaos of the day, he would take his coffee and stroll through the latest addition to the mural. Her attention to the tiniest detail was amazing.

He discovered her humor there. Subtle and hidden like secret Easter eggs. Everything was period, and perfect, but if you looked very close, that’s where you’d discover treasures. Tiny things you wouldn’t notice at first glance. You had to look. The tuba player on the bandstand wore two different colored socks. The fire department was rescuing a cat out of a tree until you looked close enough to see it was a poodle. The child fishing off the dock caught a boot with a fish tail sticking out of the top. Was there a pirate flag on one of the tall ships? Losing himself in Kay’s painting made every morning feel like his own private scavenger hunt.

He was in love with her.

No hidden surprise there. What surprised Bear was the lack of panic usually accompanied that fact. He was acting like a twenty-year-old. Hopeless and horny. His body in a constant state of want. Thinking about spending the entire day with her only perpetuating the wooden discomfort in his shorts.

He refused to be that guy. The desperate one who sends flowers every day or leaves notes on her car window. But his mind kept coming up with little romantic things he wanted to do for her. What the hell! He was Bear Coulter. Women came after
him
. When had the tide turned? He knew when. He could tell you the exact day.

It had killed him, but he’d forced himself to keep his distance these last few days. Monday night’s exchange on his deck had convinced him to slow the hell down. Had he invited her into the house, shown her into the bedroom…that would have been the end of it. We’re talking smoking tire tracks. She would have run so fast, he’d never have found her. He was in love, and technically a liar…but he was no idiot.

Picking up Walter’s rust bucket of a Ford was fun. The way hitting yourself in the head with a hammer is fun when you stop. Shadow had been crazy with excitement at seeing Kay and Walter. Dottie insisted on packing them a few snacks for the road.

“Who ya feedin’, woman? Coxey’s army?” After commenting on the ton of food Dottie was pushing at them, Walter took twenty minutes explaining how the emergency brake pedal in the truck was broken, and if you had your fingers on the wrong side of the pull handle, you’d most likely break a knuckle when it released. And thank goodness the weather was due to be clear, because the windshield wiper motor was temperamental. The wipers would wipe, but they wouldn’t come back the other way. He’d meant to fix it, but in the meantime, there was a string. “Takes a far bit of coordination ta drive a beat-ah, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

Bear swapped a sack of sandwiches and God knows what else with a bag of Shadow’s food, favorite bones, and instructions on what to do if they put him in his nemesis, the kennel. Yesterday he’d dug a hole half way to China and shimmied beneath the fence when Bear had caught him. Dog was too smart for his own good.

It was all worth it, however, when it was finally just him and Kay. Driving down the shore route took them through one picturesque village after another. They discovered wonderful out of the way places for antiques and found some great things. The best finds were an old brass telescope, some sailing charts Kay thought would look amazing framed, and a period washstand complete with its original pitcher and bowl.

Kay had a great eye. After each stop, she would hop back into the cab of the old truck, fasten her seat belt, and cross her legs. She’d worn a sassy pair of cut off denim shorts and simple cotton top. And off the tips of those sparkle-pink toes, a flat, strappy sandal would dangle, threatening to drop. Bear spent all day fascinated by her sandal…and the long beautiful leg attached.

“Where to next?” The seat belt clicked, the legs crossed, the sandal hung precariously—his jeans tightened.

“Umm…there are a few more places in Old Port down along the water. Then maybe we could take a run out to Cape Elizabeth.”

“Sure. What’s out there, more antiques?”

“No. The light.”

A few hours later, they pulled into the small state park. Following the road past the remains of the fort which used to be there, Bear pulled the truck into the parking lot. To their left, out on a small jut, stood Portland Head Light.

“Oh, Bear,” Kay breathed, “this is beautiful.”

“I discovered it a few months ago. It’s becoming one of my favorite places.”

“Favorite places, favorite restaurant later? Am I getting the Coulter VIP tour of Portland?” Kay slipped her arm through his.

“I’ve only been down here a handful of times. There are some great spots, but I’m still exploring.” He took her hand as they walked down the small hill toward the light. “I like sharing it with you.”

Kay smiled. “It’s been years since I visited the city, and I’m embarrassed to say, I’ve never been to Cape Elizabeth.” She pulled in a deep breath of sea air. “This is gorgeous.”

They walked the path past the hedges of sea roses, alongside the former lighthouse keeper’s residence, which was now a museum. They passed an elderly couple heading the other way. Being late on a Thursday afternoon, they pretty much had the place to themselves. Long shadows stretched toward the sea. Kay leaned against the brilliant white of the light’s tower and closed her eyes. A contented Mona Lisa smile graced her lips.

“Have I worn you out?”

She opened her beautiful eyes and smiled at him. “No. I was listening. The gulls, the buoy bells, the wind, the light clicks as it rotates.”

“I hadn’t noticed any of those things. I was too busy noticing you and wondering how the hell I’d been with you more than six straight hours and I haven’t kissed you yet.”

“I was going to ask you about that.” She tipped her head and gave him a coy look. “I mean, what’s a girl gotta do?” She held out her hand to him. He closed his fingers over hers, and she gave his hand a slight tug.

Bear narrowed the space between them. “I can fix this.”

He fit his mouth over hers erasing the hours of building desire after days of denial. She was eager to open her lips to the insistent searching of his tongue.

Kay purred her approval beneath him as her hands found the belt loops of his jeans and pulled his hips toward her. Heat rushed to his cock as he pinned her to the lighthouse tower and she straddled his knee. The roughness of the stucco surface of the tower pricked the palms of his hands as the kiss reached white hot level.

Squeals and laughter of children heading in their direction from the visitor’s trail ended the kiss abruptly. Bear pushed away from her and the tower and moved quickly to the fence line keeping visitors away from the rocky edge. Standing close to the short chain-link fence, he hoped like hell to hide the evidence of his arousal. His body thrummed with need. He could still feel her lips against his and taste the sweetness of her mouth on his tongue.

Half a dozen kids bounced off the chain link and raced behind him, followed closely by two women pushing strollers. After they passed, Kay came to stand beside him. She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm again and pressed herself against his side.

“Damn kids,” he muttered.

Kay tightened her hold, blew out a breath, and gave a small laugh. “Wasn’t their fault.”

“I know. It was mine.”

“How was it yours?” She kissed his arm and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“When am I going to learn to kiss you somewhere where we won’t be interrupted?”

“That could be dangerous.” Her warm breath on the side of his neck wasn’t helping matters.

“I’m counting on it,” he growled. Turning his head, he stole another kiss.

“Folks? ’Fraid I have ta kick you out. Pahk closes he’ah at dusk.” The park ranger tipped his hat and moved along, giving the same message to the two women juggling all those children.

Bear grumbled after the ranger, but his gaze never left hers. “Could we continue this conversation at dinner?”

His hoarse whisper seemed to amuse her. She tightened her hold on his arm and held his gaze for an extra second.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter Fourteen

Kay ran a brush through her hair and smoothed the skirt of her dress. The low, square neck of the classic little black dress complemented the one piece of
real
jewelry she owned—a short strand of small cream-colored pearls her parents had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

Immediately upon opening the long thin velvet box, her mother had snatched them from her and shown her the proper way to determine whether pearls were real or fake. “If you run them over your teeth and they feel smooth, they’re the cheap ones. They need to feel rough if they’re real.” She ran Kay’s gift across her teeth and smiled. “Here, try.” Kay had declined and put them back in the box, vowing they would never come anywhere near her teeth. Ever.

On second thought, Kay took them off and tucked them back into her bag. Tonight had all the signs of being a special night, and Kay wanted nothing to spoil it.

She and Bear had left the picturesque lighthouse and stopped at a small coffee shop in Portland to change their clothes. Her body still held the warmth from their exchange at the light. Her lips still pink. He’d held her hand all the way back to the truck, and reached for it again as they began the drive back into the city. Now they were off to a nice dinner at his favorite restaurant, which was famous for their crème brûlée. All she could think of was how fast could they get back to Bell Harbor. She wanted to be with him. Alone.

Kay tossed her sandals into the backpack she’d brought along, and pulled out a pair of black satin pumps with a thin heel. She had forgotten stockings and for one scandalous moment considered slipping out of her silk panties and going completely bare beneath the dress.

She laughed at her reflection. Bear would burst into flames if he knew. She’d felt the firm ridge of his erection pressed into her belly when they kissed against the lighthouse. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. If she walked out there and casually mentioned she wasn’t wearing panties, they’d never get further than the parking lot. She really didn’t want to have their first time be in the front seat of Walter’s junky pickup.