he goes and stares at me all sexy-like? Tease.
I pick up my brush and get back to work on his tattoos. I’ll focus on his shoulder and neck during this class and hopefully by the time I get to his penis, Pete will have me trained to handle that sort of thing without declaring indigestion.
Forty-three minutes later, Miss Barley gives us the five minute warning so we can finish up and clean our areas. I sit straight on the stool, stretching the back muscles that hate me because of my habit of hunching.
“Love the color choices,” Tristan says, knocking my upper arm gently with his shoulder. Pride allows my lips to turn into a smile.
“Thanks.”
“Probably smart, too. Considering every time I want to use the black, someone’s got it.”
“I told you to borrow mine,” Raina lilts as she wipes the end of her brush on the bottom of her already paint-covered shirt. I haven’t gotten paint on my clothing in years, and never did I do it on purpose either.
Knowing I should probably compliment their work, too, I give their canvases a fast glance so I don’t accidentally linger on the phallic shapes. “Yours are both really good, too,” I say, capping my violet and maroon. “Both realistic, but very different in their own right.”
“Yeah, like how mine looks nothing like our model,” Tristan jokes, gesturing toward Zach with his brush. “How can one paint such perfection?”
“He’s not that good looking,” Raina whispers to the both of us, and my face must be giving away my shock because she starts laughing at our reactions.
“Two against one, girl.” Tristan throws his arm around my shoulders. Oh my heck, what do I do? Am I making friends? Is that what is happening here?
I make a noise that sort of sounds like a laugh, but I have no clue, and Tristan continues.
“That man is fine wine, and no one can convince me otherwise. Right Candace?”
“You know my name?”
His face twists like I’ve gone insane. “Duh, dummy. We’ve been paint neighbors for about four months.” He drops his arm from my shoulders, and I drop my gaze to my midriff. Is this the magic of my belly? I mean, I have friends… kind of. Pete’s my friend, and my coworkers tolerate me, and Amber would hang out with me more if she lived around here.
My belly cannot be the reason more people are talking to m—
“You made it,” Zach says, his face suddenly above my canvas, his smile delectable and beautiful and I hate that I still want to make out with it so hard even after his blunt rejection.
“I made what?” I say like an idiot. Tristan stifles a laugh behind his hand.
Zach steps around my canvas, and thank heavens he’s robed up. “I meant you made it through class.” He nods to my ‘paint neighbors.’ “We weren’t sure if we’d see you again.”
Excuse me, what now? I totally had thoughts of running, but I’ve got a strong backbone. I let out a hollow laugh, setting my brush down and pushing from the stool. “Someone thinks highly of himself,” I tease. “One little rejection isn’t going to scare me off.” Little does he know it did the complete opposite. Get ready, Zach. My bad-a-word self is coming. He’ll see.
His smile widens, and there’s that stupid glint in his eyes like he’s saying something to me and thinks I’m supposed to understand, but I have no clue what it means.
“Good to know.” His gaze travels up and down my body, and I want to tug and pull at my clothes again, cover it all up, but I stand still and take it, even with my heart pounding like a rogue hammer. “Like the look, Candace. It suits you.”
Point for Candace and zero for Pete! I knew an outfit would work. “Thanks.”
“See you next class.”
“And we’ll see all of you,” Tristan says when Zach’s out of earshot. A nervous laugh floats from my lips at his joke, and I let out a shaky breath.
That class actually went pretty darn well. I’m going to make all those fears on my list my b-word, just everyone wait and see.
Pete
“Ho. Lee. Shit. Holy shit.” Maddie gawks as we pull up to Candace’s family farm, and I wish I could say I keep it together, but my jaw’s sitting in my lap.
If I thought the house—and the guest house—was anything it’s got nothing on the barn, stables, and probably a hundred acres of property. Maddie’s tires crunch over the