I’d studied art. I’d seen the greatest masterpieces in the world. I’d heard of artists having muses, but I’d never truly appreciated the concept or understood the gravity of that phenomenon.
Until I’d laid eyes on Josie Clarke.
The woman captivated me in a way I hadn’t even known existed. She was mysterious yet open. Reserved yet outgoing. Happy but also sad. A complex puzzle that I would gladly spend the rest of my life trying to solve if given the chance.
And last night, the intoxicating combination of her vulnerability combined with her sensuality was almost too much for me to process. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all. I’d spent hours just staring at her while she’d slept. Finally, I forced myself to leave her room because I realized that if she woke up to find me looking at her, that might be creepy as fuck.
I hadn’t been able to help myself, though. It was more than just her outer beauty that mesmerized me. It was all the things that I’d listed to her grandmother. Everything she did, every word she spoke, every expression that crossed her face, every movement she made, every breath she took pulled me deeper under her spell.
As I stood on the bank of the river that ran through the center of town and finished setting up, I stole another look at Josie, who’d barely said a word to me since she’d bolted out of the car after hanging up the call. I hadn’t meant to embarrass her with my answer, I hadn’t even meant to say the things I had, but when I’d looked at her, it all just sort of came out.
That kept happening around her. I was helpless when it came to her. It was as if I was being controlled by an outside force that I was powerless to resist. She overrode my common sense and my self-control.
Just like last night in the bathroom. Once I’d made sure that the scorpion I’d safely returned to the outdoors hadn’t left any friends behind, my intention was to walk right past her, go back to my room, and do my damnedest not to jerk off to the image of her naked body that was forever seared into my mind.
Instead, I’d found myself standing in front of her telling her that I’d wanted to kiss her since the first time I’d seen her. And then, after we’d made love, I’d planned on going back to my room and putting distance between us. But instead, we’d gone for round two and I’d spent the night memorizing every curve, every angle, every slope of her perfect, heart-shaped face as she slept.
And now, I should be finishing the set-up but instead I bent down and pulled my still camera from my bag and pointed it at Josie. I focused the lens so that it perfectly captured the rays of sun beaming down on her fiery locks, highlighting the strands of gold and copper.
As I began snapping pictures, Josie bent down and picked something up off the walking path and set it in the flower bed. I couldn’t quite see what it was.
I lowered my camera, covered the screen, and zoomed in on the shots. I scrolled through the rapid shots and it played like a still movie on my screen. She had lifted up a snail that was on the path and placed it on a leaf, out of harm’s way.
Her innate kindness even translated to mollusks.
“Hello there, son.” I felt a slap on my shoulder and turned to see the man that I was fairly confident was Colonel James Hunter.
“Colonel Hunter?”
He nodded. “Last time I checked.”
I offered him my hand. “Jackson Briggs.”
“Nice to meet you.” Colonel Hunter took my hand and shook it. I was shocked at the power behind his handshake. This man might be pushing ninety, but he could still do some damage. He was exceptionally strong.
I’d met a lot of people, including politicians, dignitaries, actors, and philanthropists. Titles meant jack shit to me. I was raised to respect my elders, no matter what their title. It didn’t matter if it was a sanitation worker or the mayor.
But this man standing in front of me inspired more than my usual level of respect. He was the real deal. I knew the moment that he shook my hand and looked me straight in the eye that he was the sort of man that other men looked up to and aspired to be.