So not going to happen. At least, not yet.
Soon, she was caught up with her creation, carefully adding all of the minute details that helped make the painting that much more active. Trying to capture everything that unfolded all at once was tough, but she’d honed her skills over the years, becoming quicker with the brush, more observant of her surroundings. She didn’t do as many live paintings as she used to, but they were fun, if exhausting work.
“You look thirsty.”
A whispered shiver shot down her spine at the sound of the now-familiar voice. Arching her neck from side to side, she turned to find Jared standing before her once again, clutching a drink in his big hand.
Willow’s cotton candy cocktail was quickly becoming a major hit among the wedding reception customers. Sheridan had been lucky enough to help her create the cocktail, sampling one after another one late summer evening not that long ago, until they’d been more than a little tipsy. She smiled at the fond memory.
A particular drink she had a mad fondness for, luckily enough. He lifted it toward her as if he were toasting her.
“I really shouldn’t drink any alcohol while I’m working.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” The devilish expression on Jared’s face was irresistible. As was his offer. She was pretty thirsty, and though it wasn’t her earlier wished-for glass of wine, it would certainly do…
“It’ll be our secret.” She reached for the drink, their fingers brushing when he handed over the martini glass, and yet again, her body reacted. A jolt of awareness shot through her, making her extremely conscious of how close he stood to her. How big and muscular he was.
Whoa, boy.
He watched her drink, his gaze seemingly locked on her lips as they curved around the rim of the glass, and heat suffused her. Could he be flirting? Was he inte
rested? Hard to believe, considering he could have any woman he wanted, and he surely knew it.
Yet again, she was reminded that he’d recently been in the news. For something bad. Right? She wished she could remember. That was what happened when a person read too much gossip: it all got lumped in together.
“You like it?” he asked after she took a healthy sip.
“Love it. My friend makes these.”
“You know her?” Jared glanced over his shoulder, as did Sheridan. Willow wiggled her fingers at them both, a silly grin on her face, her slightly oversized black-framed glasses borderline ridiculous on her pretty face. A giant of a man stood nearby. “She’s cute. I think my friend likes her.”
Jared’s words piqued her curiosity. “A teammate, I presume?”
“How’d you know?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
“It’s not normal for two testosterone-charged men with finely muscled bodies to come wandering through our small town event. You kind of stand out.” She took another sip of the drink, the tart sweetness delicious on her tongue.
“You think we have finely muscled bodies, huh?”
He was teasing, she could tell by the tone of his voice, and she rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.” She waved a hand, as if she could dismiss her words. “Thank you for the drink.” He really should go. He was a huge distraction, just standing there, looking handsome, making it hard for her to concentrate. She needed to finish painting.
“You’re welcome.” His deep, rumbling voice set her nerve endings on fire. “So, when does this thing end?”
Hope rose in her chest despite the warnings going off in her head. Clearly, he was a player. A man looking for a female to conquer. She needed to remember that. “Nine o’clock.”
Jared glanced at his watch. It was beautiful…and probably cost as much as she made in a year. Maybe more. “About an hour, then.”
Panic rose within her, clutching her heart in a stranglehold. She drained her glass in one long swallow then thrust it into Jared’s hand. “Oh my God, I need to finish! I’m almost out of time.” Bending her head over her painting, she concentrated on finishing the scene, her hand moving even faster than normal.
“Maybe we could get together when it’s over,” he suggested. “Have another drink.”
Her heart leapt, but she kept her gaze trained on the canvas. Meeting up with him afterward wouldn’t be smart. He’d most likely use her for sex and then forget all about her.
So why didn’t that sound like such a bad idea? The use-her-for-sex part?
“Are you coming on to me, Jared Quinn?”
He chuckled. “That you have to ask means I must be doing a terrible job.”