Pursing his lips, Mateo says, “You know you always have a place to go if you need to get out of there, right?”
“I know, and it’s not that. It’s just…stuff.” I shake my head. “Please, can we drop it?”
He cocks his head as if he wants to argue, but thankfully, he doesn’t press.
We hook arms and he leads me to a conference room in the back of the convention center that’s been converted into a makeshift art studio. There are an impressive number of people inside. White sheets are spread out on the floor near each painting station, along with a small table holding art supplies. There’s a manila folder there, too, with the word DESIGN written on it. I’m excited to see which classic painting Mateo chose for me. He leads me to his station in the corner with ata-dahhspread of his arms. We’re kind of tucked back from everyone else, but I don’t mind. It gives a semblance of privacy. We can laugh and gossip without bothering anyone, which is probably good considering how loud we can get. I bet we’ll be laughing even more over all the silliness that comes out when a bunch of wealthy people try to impress each other.
“Wow, this paint is non-toxic, mineral based, and vegan,” Mateo says, nodding.
“Does that mean I can eat it?” I joke.
“You probably could… You know, I’m surprised Mr. Jealous-pants let you volunteer for this,” Mateo says casually as he starts arranging his paints.
I roll my eyes hard. “Luka’s not the boss of me,” I say.
Now that I think about it, I’ll bet that’s what had Luka so worked up earlier. He knows men like to touch—he is one himself, after all—and despite his recent efforts to act like he doesn’t want me anymore, he’s always been the jealous type. Too bad he won’t be here to see this. I wouldn’t mind getting him back for the way he behaved in Paris.
I set my clutch on Mateo’s table just as two volunteers come over and start putting together another artist’s station next to us. They’re still setting it up when Sharon, the event coordinator, pops her head into the room.
“Thank you all so much for volunteering your time and energy!” she calls out. “Artists, you have two hours to get your models painted. I look forward to seeing the results!”
With a wink, she’s gone, and a quiet frenzy ignites as the models waste no time getting naked. Mateo and I share a glance as the clothes start flying off. He’s still mixing the colors.
“These people are fierce,” he says anxiously. “I feel like we’re on a reality show bake-off or something.”
“I guess we’d better get started?” I say.
He laughs. “Strip, girl, strip. And go slow so I can enjoy it.”
I smack him playfully on the arm. “Jesus, Mat. Horndog much?”
“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before and you know it.” He shrugs. “A body is a body.”
I hear someone forcefully clearing their throat beside us. We both turn to look and my stomach drops as I take in the sight of Luka at the freshly arranged workstation next to ours, whipping off his shirt to reveal his perfectly sculpted torso.
Mateo is smiling like this is the best thing to happen to him all week.
“Well well well, Mr. Zoric,” he says, shooting me a smirk. “Fancy seeing you here…”
“Great to see you too, man,” Luka says to Mateo. But his tone doesn’t match his words.
As for me, I’m…I’m speechless. My husband lifts a brow as he continues undressing, holding my gaze the whole time. Shock turns to lust as I watch him unzip his pants and let them drop. He’s completely naked within seconds.
Crossing his arms, he says, “Surprised to see me?”
“You could say that,” I murmur.
“I thought we’d enjoy some husband and wife bonding time,” he says, as if it’s completely expected for him to be here right now. I don’t know what to say in reply, so I look at Mateo, but he’s still busy ogling my nude husband. To be honest, I’m wondering how everyone else in the room can focus on anything but Luka’s body, that face, his patented devilish grin.
He gestures at my clothing. “You heard Mateo—time to strip. You’re the only model here that isn’t ready for paint. Time’s a-wasting.”
Pulling myself together, I kick off my heels and shimmy out of my pantyhose. Both Luka and Mateo watch as I pull my dress over my head and step out of my underwear, leaving me naked. I shiver, but my body heats instantly as I take in my husband again. His form is so perfect, so unbelievably sculpted, that he puts this entire room full of professional models to shame. I want to be angry that he’s crashed my night out with Mateo, but the truth is: I’m not.
I still can’t figure out why he showed up. He wasn’t on the model list—in fact, he hadn’t signed up to have any involvement at all. Was it pure jealousy that drove him here tonight? If so, I can’t help feeling satisfied that my speculation was correct. He doesn’t want the men in the audience to appreciate my nakedness, and he sure as hell doesn’t want them touching me.
That would imply that Luka still cares about me. And there’s hope in that.
I catch him running his eyes over my body greedily, as if drinking me in after a long, parching heat. I enjoy his gaze, but then his artist has him turn to the right, and Luka looks away.
