Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series) (13 page)

     
Ethan brought
his hand to my face. "Hey," he said softly. "It's alright. I
understand."

     
"Do you?
Because I can bring the painting out to you. You can see what you need to
see…and then you can leave, and we can both be okay. But if you go in, I
will
take it as you wanting to be…more than casual buddies. So if you have any
doubts or you don't want anything serious, you should tell me now. I'll
understand complet-"

     
He cut me off
by placing his finger over my mouth. "Let me in, please." His
expression was calm as he waited patiently.

     
Staring back
into his eyes, I knew it would be okay. He was more than my ocean. He was real.
This should have scared me, but of course, all I could feel was safe...even if
I didn't understand why. I opened the door and walked in quickly, switching on
the light.

     
The first thing
he noticed was the daybed. Then the easel and stool by the window. "You do
all your work in here?"

     
"Mostly,
yes. Although I've only been living here for two months, so I haven't done too
much yet."

     
His eyes
continued searching the room, pinpointing all of the drawings and paintings I
had leaning against the walls and shelves. I was glad that I kept my room so
clean, but then again, I didn't have anything else in here aside from the bed,
the desk, my laptop, my artwork and supplies, and the iPod dock. I never knew
when I would have to move, so I made a point of not wasting money on knickknacks
and such. I made up for it in clothes, though.

     
"You're
over there." I pointed to picture above the bed. Reaching over, I pulled
it from the wall and handed it to him before taking a seat. "Blue," I
said quietly, looking at my feet. "A special kind of ocean blue. Like the
surface of the sea on a sunny but overcast day. The dazzling kind of blue. I
thought it was only the fluorescent lights. Real eyes don't sparkle like that -
like dozens of diamonds dancing on water. That's what I thought, but it seems
that I was wrong. I mean, the light certainly helped, but…"

     
After a few
moments of silence passed, I looked at him. He was staring back at me, but I
couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Too cheesy, you think?" I
laughed and stood up. "But it's the truth." While he gazed back down
at the painting, I moved to my closet.

     
"The
things you see within a moment…" he said quietly. Then he shook his head
and smiled, placing the painting back on the wall. "Well, you know what
this means, right?"

     
"Hm?"

     
As soon as I
turned to him, his arms were around me, hoisting me up into the air. He held me
up against him with one arm under my rear and the other around my waist, almost
like a parent would hold their child.

     
"It's not
just you in your bubble anymore." Lifting his head up, he kissed my
forehead before pulling back to smirk at me. My heart stopped.

     
Happy
.

     
When was the
last time I had felt this kind of happy? I was about to kiss him right then and
there when something from behind me caught his attention.

     
"Your
wardrobe is…overflowing," he commented.

     
"Oh…yeah." He set me down and went to inspect the contents of
my closet. I swallowed nervously. "Um. This room is smaller than the
master bedroom, but the closet is bigger for some reason."
What the
hell is he looking for?

     
"Are these
all nightgowns?" he asked as he sifted through the corner that held all of
my precious gems.

     
"I don't
really go out much," I explained. "Getting through the day is a lot
more fun when I'm wearing something nice." When he silently continued
looking through them, I suddenly found myself feeling very defensive.
"They're my one true loves. And they're comfortable."

     
He glanced back
at me. "Are you going to change into one, then?"

     
If we were ever
going to go anywhere, he was going to find out about my extremely feminine
tastes at some point. Might as well get it over with. "Yes."

     
Ethan moved
past me to sit on the bed. Crossing one leg over the other and leaning back
onto his hands, he spoke casually, "Go on, then."

     
"...Wouldn't you like to order some food now?"

     
"Do you
really want me to?" He looked at me carefully, waiting.

     
Ah, I see
.
He was testing the limits. Trying to see how far he could go before I started
freaking out.

     
I decided to
play along. It helped, of course, that - short as I might've been - I was aware
of the fact that I had been blessed with a well-proportioned figure. How many
times had I relied on my own body as a model for my work? I was comfortable in
my own skin. But that didn't mean I was comfortable with
others
seeing
my body. So it wasn't without an extreme case of nerves that I tried to look
unconcerned.

     
I shrugged,
aiming for nonchalance, and pulled my gray sweater off in one swift motion
before dropping it to the floor. Next, I undid the top few buttons of my dress
and, ignoring the low gasp from my bed, slid the straps over my shoulders. The
dress fell quickly down my form and I was left in only my shoes, my underwear,
and my stockings.

     
Ethan was
standing not even a full second later.

     
"Alright." His voice was tight, his face tense. "What
kind of food?"

     
"Surprise
me," I grinned.

     
"Anything
you can't eat?"

     
I had to take a
moment to think. Leaning down, I began to take off my shoes. "Well, I
prefer chicken to all other meats. I don't really eat seafood. I don't like
licorice. Or Dots or Tootsie Rolls or Pop-Tarts...just so you know," I
finished.

     
When I
straightened back up he was right in front of me. Now that I had lost the
shoes, I was suddenly reminded of the severity in our height difference. He
stood over a foot taller than me. I was used to people towering over me, but
rarely were they ever this close.

     
Gently, he took
hold of my ponytail and pulled my head back. "Now I know." Leaning
down, he kissed me. It was surprisingly soft. Out of habit, I tensed up a bit.
The whole kissing thing was something I still wasn't used to, but as soon as I
started to move my own lips around his, it began to feel very natural. His grip
on my hair tightened slightly, but it wasn't at all painful. I leaned in and
for the first time I could feel the hard contours of his body beneath his
three-piece suit. Unable to stop myself, I threw my arms around him in attempt
to bring him closer.

     
He groaned,
presenting my ears with the most pleasing sound, before pulling back. "I
promised I wouldn't kidnap you, remember?"

     
"Why would
you ever even need to kidnap me?"

     
He tore his
eyes away from mine and looked towards the bed. "We'll need a bigger space
for what I plan to do with you if you keep tempting me."

     
I knew where he
was going with it, but hearing him say it out loud still made me blush.

     
"Put some
clothes on," he ordered. "I'll get the food."

     
Half an hour
later, we sat at the small dining table eating dinner.

     
There is a
man who is not Dale sitting in my home, chowing down with me.
Whoa.

     
I did my best
not to stare, really, I did. But I couldn't help but study this fine specimen
as he ate. He had taken his jacket and tie off, leaving him in his shirt and
waistcoat.
Just saying, if I ever had the female equivalent of a spank bank,
waistcoats would make a mandatory appearance. That's how fucking much I loved
them.
The upper buttons of his shirt were left undone, and he had rolled up
his sleeves. My eyes moved to study his forearms. They were strong, smooth, and
I itched to stroke them with my fingers.

     
"Can I ask
you something?" Once again, he had to break through my yummy thoughts.

     
"Of
course."

     
"Why were
you so happy on Thursday?"

     
So my silly
little Disney-mood reached even him.
I sighed and took a small bite of my
food before answering. "I woke up feeling inspired. It just happens
sometimes. I was really excited about starting the mural, once I figured out
what I wanted to do."

     
"You
looked like an angel," he said quietly, recalling that morning in his
mind. "A
dazzling spectacle,
as you called it. Your skin looked as
though it were literally glowing. It was a bit eerie at first, actually. And
then you had the most blissful smile on your face. I had never seen anyone or
anything as beautiful as you on that day." He gazed at me for a moment
before returning to his meal.

     
I almost wanted
to cry. He thought I was beautiful. This man - this being who somehow existed
outside of my dreams had thought I'd looked like an
angel
. Was that
possible? "…But you didn't look very happy when I saw you," I
remembered.

     
He swallowed,
his eyes turning dark for just a second. "That morning…some distressing
news had been brought to my attention. Which reminds me, there was something
else I wanted to ask, although I didn't know how to bring it up without the
chance of possibly upsetting you."

     
Here we go.
"...Yes?"

     
"We
finished pulling together a background check on you."

    
 
"Ah." I'd hoped it would've
been the typical background check. The one that only had the birthplace and
previous employment. Possible school information. Proof that I wasn't a
criminal or an evil mastermind. But Ethan probably had people who could dig just
a bit deeper. "And?"

     
"I
wondered…" He hesitated.

     
"Go
ahead."

     
"Did you
know? That your stepfather-"

     
"That he
was a criminal?" Truman Graves - almost three years ago he was arrested
for embezzlement and extortion, among a few other things. "I knew he was
friends with some shady people. Well, I didn't know for sure that they were
crooks. Just a tingling spidey sense." Ignoring Ethan's sharp gaze, I
shrugged and continued. "It didn't really have anything to do with me. I
usually just ignored any guests and my...stepfather and I weren't exactly on
speaking terms. I was long gone by the time he was convicted."

     
"I
see." He was quiet. Contemplating.

     
"Worried I
might be involved in some criminal activity?" My tone was playful, but
really I was just weary over once again being reminded of the reality of our
situation.
Maybe I should just put an end to this now before I get even more
attached.

     
He smiled, but
it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I just hate knowing that you were so
close to those kinds of people. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

     
I didn't want
to lie, but I wasn't about to open up when I was still only just getting used
to him. I took a sip of my drink. "You know, I don't know anything about
you."

     
He frowned at
the sudden change of topic. "Don't you?"

     
I shook my
head.

     
"…What do
you want to know, then?" he asked after a few seconds, returning to his
food.

     
"Were you
born here? Do you have any family? What exactly is it you do work-wise? And how
many girls do you normally go through in a single year?"

     
He let out a
small chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't just look me up."

     
"I was
going to, but I got distracted. And then by the time I remembered to, I
realized I would rather hear it from you instead."

     
Fixing his eyes
on me again, he smiled. "I was born in Wellington, New Zealand. My mother
was a native. A few months after my birth, my father brought us here to his
home in Bellingham. Luxadigm Industries was originally his business."

     
I looked up at
him in surprise. New Zealand?
Ah!
"That's it! Your nearly
nonexistent accent - it's Kiwi!" I grinned. One mystery was finally
solved.