Written with You (The Regret Duet #2)(13)

She pursed her lips and stared at me. I might not have known her well. But I knew that look. She wasn’t considering whether or not to accept my offer; she was trying to figure out how to keep herself from bursting into tears when she did.

Honestly, it was wrong of me to use more time with Rosalee to obtain the painting. Though I’m not too proud to admit that it was a wholly selfish offer. I knew without a shadow of a doubt she was going to accept. Thus earning me the painting and more time with her.

I prowled toward her. “Do we have a deal?”

She tilted her head to the side and extended a hand my way. “Shake on it. You get that painting and I get Mondays.”

I didn’t back away as I took her hand, which made for an awkward shake in the small space between us.

She sucked in a sharp breath and then finally grinned. “Would you like to take it with you tonight, or shall I have it delivered after it’s framed?”

“Depends. Is the frame going to be an atrocious tropical color like the ones in your living room?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m surprised you noticed. As a side note, I’d like to advise you to never invest in art again.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I got a pretty good deal.”

“No, what you got was a painting that I messed up and was using as scrap to practice the technique for the highlights I used in her hair.” Pointing to the wall behind her, she finished with, “That was what I wanted to show you.”

And I’d be damned. It was the same picture. The same strokes and colors, but everything was better. Rosalee’s eyes were brighter, and her vibrant curls blended together in a waterfall of color. Even the crop of the photo was better, slightly off center so her smile was the main focal point.

My mouth fell open and she let out a loud giggle.

“Before you say a word, I tried to warn you about it not being for sale. But you insisted and shook on it and everything. So, now, I have Mondays and you have my practice canvas.”

“Hadley,” I rumbled, but she kept right on laughing.

“I’ll get this boxed up for you.”

She didn’t make it to the painting before I bent, put a shoulder to her stomach, and lifted her off her feet.

“Caven!”

I started back to the living room. “You know what? I don’t think I like getting to know non-naked Hadley.”

Her laughter got louder. “But you got a beautiful painting. Truly. All the smears and smudges. It’s my best work yet.”

I slapped her on her ass. “Liar.”

“No, really. The trashmen are going to be devastated when I don’t put it at the curb this week.”

My smile was unrivaled as I deposited her on the couch, the whole thing creaking as I followed her down, my mouth finding hers before my body did.

She opened her legs, allowing my hips to fall through. Then she let out a sigh that erased whatever anger I’d been pretending to carry.

Truth be told, I still got the better end of our deal.

My painting was gorgeous.

And I got her on Mondays.

Fucked up as it was, I’d have happily paid a million dollars for the same outcome.

We made out on that couch until the pizza arrived. Technically, we’d stayed clothed the entire time, but it was far from the get-to-know-you session she’d suggested at the beginning of the night.

By the time I forced myself out her door an hour and a half after I’d arrived, both of our lips were bruised, my face hurt from smiling, and Trent’s pizza was stone cold—just like he deserved.





WILLOW


Caven: Let’s play a game of Would You Rather?



I grinned and put my paintbrush down.



Me: You have my attention.

Caven: Would you rather eat cheesecake or tiramisu?

Me: I’m not sure you understand how this game works. It’s supposed to be two difficult choices both with pros and cons.

Caven: Okay. Let me give it another go. Would you rather eat cheesecake in twenty minutes or tiramisu in twenty-one?

Me: Oh wow. That’s tough. On one hand, it’s tiramisu. On the other, I’d have to wait a whole minute longer to eat it. How will I ever decide?

Caven: What if I tell you I will be accompanying the dessert so you’d have to wait a whole minute without me?

Me: You’ll be accompanying the dessert? Why? Are they out of ranch?

Caven: I’m getting both because you suck at this game. Alejandra asked if she could take Rosalee to a movie. So I decided to order dessert and crash whatever you had planned for tonight.



True to his word, bright and early on Monday morning, sexy businessman Caven Hunt had arrived wearing a mouthwatering suit and a grumpy scowl that almost made me feel bad for my crappy contractor. I wasn’t sure what happened in my backyard that day. From my vantage point of the upstairs window, peeking through the blinds, I saw Caven standing stoic as ever while the contractor’s mouth never stopped moving. Caven said no more than three sentences before turning on a toe and marching to my back door. I opened it. He told me that my studio would be done in ten days, they would be upgrading my flooring and windows free of charge, and he had an inspector that would come by a few times to make sure they weren’t rushing through the process. After that, he kissed me on the cheek and informed me that we were having tacos for dinner at his place. Then, just as quickly as he’d arrived, he was gone.