“Bye, Marjorie. Don’t wait up!” She shook her head as the ceiling lamp swung in response. She headed into the garage, which was once just a gardening shed, and rolled out her bike. She pulled on her riding gear and checked her backpack to make sure there was a comb in with the change of clothes she’d throw on once she got there. Something, or someone, was waiting at the end of this ride. She could feel it in her bones. Hopefully that meant someone with long hair, curves, and a desire for a night of fun.
At a hotel, obviously. She laughed behind her visor as she set off. There’d be no bringing home a one-night stand with Marjorie hanging around.
CHAPTER 3
The Hawthorne Exchangewas a little low down on the scale of art galleries that Marina liked to frequent, but the email showing an image of the artist’s new work had caught her eye, and she’d cajoled Rob and Jeff into coming along. She took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped as she eyed the five-foot painting of a child holding a dandelion while looking out over ruins. The title was “Hope.”
“It’s a weed, and the kid has absolutely nothing left.” She looked sidelong at Jeff, who was wiping tears from his eyes. “Where’s the hope in that?”
“A weed is just a flower planted where you don’t want it. And if flowers can grow in rubble, then maybe we can too.” The voice was low, melodic, and coming from behind her.
Marina turned, irritated at someone intruding on their conversation, but stopped before the first salty word could leave her lips. The woman who’d spoken was seriously hot. Short dark hair complemented beautiful green eyes. One of them had a circle of gold around the pupil, making it difficult not to stare at it. Her leather jacket looked well loved, and the black jeans hugged muscular thighs.Yessss. “That’s an interesting way to look at it. Tell me more.”
Jeff snorted, and Rob laughed as he tugged him away. The woman gave her a half grin that might have been the sexiest thing she’d ever wanted to lay her mouth on.
“It’s all in the way you see it. Glass half full kind of thing.” She motioned toward the painting but didn’t look away from Marina. “You saw it as half empty. I think the painter sees it as something that has yet to be filled.”
“You know the painter? She’s very talented.” Marina couldn’t help but look the woman over again, noting the black jeans that looked perfectly worn, like they were made for her body. “Is she your girlfriend?”
The woman laughed. “Subtle. No, she’s my goddaughter.” Someone came over and whispered in the woman’s ear, and she nodded. “Nice to meet you.” And then she was gone, moving easily through the crowd and away from Marina’s desire for a lusty nightcap.
Rob and Jeff rejoined her at the next painting. “Did our girl actually strike out?” Rob asked, putting his hand to his chest. “Do we need to take you to the ER?”
She sighed and finished the champagne. “What are the chances of meeting someone like that at a thing like this? She’s a leather-clad butch lollipop, and I was so ready to unwrap her.”
Jeff looked around. At nearly seven feet tall, it wasn’t hard for him to scan a room. “I don’t see her. Maybe she was a figment of your undersexed imagination.”
“There’s nothingunderabout me. If I see her again, I’m definitely getting on that train.” Marina continued to peruse the paintings, and she stopped in front of one that made her chest ache. A small girl sat in a dark corner of a room, looking up, with a teddy bear clutched to her chest. The room was empty, with blank walls and a strangely ominous feeling. But the ceiling was a cacophony of color, with rainbows and clouds and a person holding the little girl’s hand as they walked down a path strewnwith flowers. Marina found the gallery assistant and bought it outright. She had no idea where she’d hang it, but she had to have it.
“Nice choice.”
She spun, nearly colliding with the butch fantasy woman. “You think?”
“I think you’ve got something in you that reached for that.” She tilted her head as she looked at the small painting. “It speaks to the desire for love on a most basic level, and the belief that it might be out there, no matter your circumstances.”
Goosebumps rose on Marina’s arms, and she rubbed at them. Something about the woman’s tone had changed, and there was a…feeling. She couldn’t have described it under oath. She took a small step away.
“Sorry,” the woman said, and there was a wisp of sadness in her smile. “Too deep to go with a stranger, right?” She shrugged. “But then, that’s what art does. It drives conversation and brings us together.”
“Or apart, if you don’t like it,” Marina said, the odd sensation diminishing.
“Maybe. Or maybe it just creates a discussion. It’s okay if we don’t all like the same things, right?” She held out her hand. “River.”
“Marina.” She liked the feel of River’s large, strong hand holding hers. She wouldn’t mind feeling it in other places too.
Once again, the person who’d interrupted them came over. Before she could speak, Marina put her other hand over River’s. “I don’t suppose you’d like to go out sometime?”
River’s eyebrows rose, and she held up a finger to the person trying to get her attention. “A woman who asks for what she wants.”
“You’ll find I have no trouble in stating exactly what it is I want.” She let her gaze travel the length of River once again.“And you don’t look like someone who would have trouble giving it.”
“Give me your phone.” River held out her hand.
Marina dug into her clutch and pulled it out, then opened the contacts section. River quickly typed in her details and handed it back.
“I look forward to finding out what it is you want,” she said, taking a couple steps back as the woman tugging on her arm pulled her away.
Marina tipped her empty glass in acknowledgement, and then River was lost to sight once again.
