“Maybe we should just head back to the coffee shop,” I suggested, my voice brittle.
The sun had almost set now, and the harsh shadows being thrown across Butch’s face made the agitation there look almost menacing. I wasn’t afraid of him physically, but I dreaded hearing more criticism. No one had laid it out for me like this before, and it was jarring to hear it. Even Lacey—who I suspected thought I was crazy for agreeing to this—had kept her opinions to herself for the most part.
Butch went to the motorcycle silently, climbing on and starting it. He sat there, tense, until I put my helmet back on and settled onto the seat behind him. I felt uncomfortable wrapping my arms around him this time, but it was undoubtedly safer. The last thing I wanted was to go flying off the back of the motorcycle just to avoid an awkward situation.
Butch’s body stayed rigid on the way back into town, and the route we took was slightly different, more direct, so that we arrived back at the coffee shop in just fifteen minutes. The second the bike came to a stop, I was unfastening the helmet strap and stumbling in my hurry to get off. Emotion swelled in my chest, and I was horrified as tears started to swim in my eyes.
I couldn’t even explain why I was so upset. I didn’t know Butch that well. His opinion of my situation shouldn’t have been so relevant.
But I really liked him.
I was cursing myself for that as I hurried to my car, parked on the street in front of the coffee shop. I pulled my keys out of my pocket as I walked, not daring to look back at him. I didn’t want to see the judgment on his face. God, why did I always have to deal with condemnation?
Just before I reached the car, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Butch spun me around so that I was facing him. I gasped at the heated look in his eyes.
“You know what? I call bullshit on you being engaged,” he said fiercely.
“What?” I asked, blinking away the tears, hoping that he didn’t notice them.
“There’s no ring on your finger yet. You say you don’t love him. Is that true?”
“Yes, it’s true. I have no romantic feelings for him at all.”
“Good.”
Butch swooped in and took my mouth in a rough kiss. My back arched and he pulled my body close. The kiss only lasted a moment, but it left me panting when Butch pulled away.
“Goodnight, Sabrina,” he said, and something warm bloomed in my chest at the tender look in his eyes.
I got into my car while he went back to his bike, and I couldn’t help but smile. I wasn’t sure what that kiss meant, but I was sure that things weren’t done between us, not yet. For now, I was happy with that.
* * *
“I’m terrible at this,” I told Lacey as I dipped a brush into the blue paint on the table between us. “I have no artistic talent.”
“Stop being so negative. It’s just some wildflowers.”
I peeked around my canvas at the vase of colorful flowers that I was supposed to be painting. We were at a wine and canvas event. Lacey had been trying to talk me into going to one of these things for awhile now, but I had been resisting, knowing that I wasn’t artistic or a big drinker. But I finally gave in since the last time she insisted I try something, I’d had the best sex of my life.
That sort of thing made a woman more open to new experiences.
But this one turned out to be a misfire for me. My flowers looked like blobs, and I had barely touched my wine. I had already been drinking more than usual lately, so I was taking it easy on the alcohol. My only excuse for the painting was that I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body.
I glanced over at Lacey’s canvas, and my jaw dropped. It was amazing. I shouldn’t have been surprised. She had always been gifted at art, but her specialty was graphic design. It was her career. She mostly designed logos for businesses, but she loved it.
“Oh, come on,” I grumbled. “Did you bring me here to make me look bad?”
Lacey chuckled as she dipped her brush into the green paint. I watched her graceful movements as she painted, trying to figure out how she was so good at this. Looking back at my own painting, I knew it was hopeless.
Oh well.
I was just going to try to have fun with this. Looking around the room, I could see a variety of talent, and none of them seemed to be worried about what their picture looked like.
“So tell me about the guy,” Lacey said.
“Butch? What makes you think there’s anything to tell?”
“I know you guys were meeting yesterday to work on that fundraiser. So what happened?”
