Page 25 of Tempted By the Princess

“Yeah.”

She lowered her head and pressed her lips against mine softly, then lifted her head and pushed some hair back behind my ear.

“We’d better get you home so you can get cleaned up.”

Carrie helped me get to my feet then looked behind me. “We’re going to have to hose you down before you get in the car,” she laughed.

“Is there a hose down there?” I asked curiously. Given the amount of mud here that made sense.

“No, but I have a blanket in the trunk we can put over the seat before you sit down. That’ll be easier to clean.”

By the time we drove back to Carrie’s house the mud was caked and falling everywhere. It wasn’t just me though. Carrie’s shoes were coated, despite her efforts to scrape off the worst of it before she got in the car.

We pulled into the garage and after the door closed Carrie gave me a stern look. “Strip.”

I made a show of looking around the garage. “I don’t know, this doesn’t seem like the best place for sexy times. There’s no place comfortable to lay down.”

She stalked towards me and I darted away, laughing. “Okay, okay, if you want me naked I’ll get naked.”

At her direction I tossed my clothes right into the washing machine, and when I turned around my temporary housemate was also stark naked. I raised one eyebrow and she shrugged. “I might as well wash my clothes too. Now how do you feel about showering together?”

“I heard showering together is good for the environment,” I said solemnly.

“It really is. Let’s go.”

Carrie

“Carrie? Are you up there?”

Genny’s voice traveled up from the door to the attic. Setting down my paint brush, I walked closer to the stairs and hung over the half wall that separated the rest of the room from the staircase.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Genny stood at the bottom of the stairs looking adorably rumpled. We’d had a very sexy shower then fell into my bed for another round. Genny had promptly passed out, exhausted from our hike, but I’d been too keyed up to take a nap. Finally I’d slipped out and came upstairs to paint for a while.

“Can I come up?”

I glanced between the easel that was up in front of the window and the stairs, calculating. I’d never let anyone see my paintings before, not even my sister. Not because it sucked. I was pretty good at this. But my art was personal. Private. I poured my deepest emotions onto the canvas. It made me feel exposed.

And yet, Genny was the woman I loved. She was only here for a short time. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to share this one thing with her?

“Okay, but don’t expect too much.”

She popped up the stairs with the ease of someone who didn’t have forty year old knees, then stopped on the landing, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead and look around.”

The attic was finished, although not very well. It was flag shaped, one long hallway opening into the square room where the ceilings sloped in on either side. When I first moved in I’d replaced the tiny original windows with larger ones and had skylights installed to make the room seem light and airy. Completed paintings were propped up against every wall, some stack three or four high.

Genny started with the closest painting, one that was leaning against the wall close to the stairs. One by one she examined the paintings, shrewd eyes missing nothing. I held my breath, her opinion meaning more to me than I cared to analyze.

“You have a talent for using color,” she said.

I didn’t respond. I just watched her as she slowly circled the room, taking in every painting that I’d done. I’d kept them all. The good. The bad. The ones that I wasn’t quite done with but wasn’t sure how to complete. She studied each like they were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

“Your work is good,” she said finally, and I knew she meant it. “You should show your work somewhere.”

I shook my head. “My art is just for me.”