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His latest favorite subject was Violet. He’d captured the motion of her chubby toddler legs and the texture of her thick dark hair in this current piece. Working from a series of photos he’d taken of her in the park a few weeks ago, he planned to give the painting to Fiona for her birthday. As he worked, he slipped into a familiar, melancholy mood.
In the past, during these moments of stillness, guilt would often creep in. He’d regret the stress he’d caused his mother when, as a teen, he’d nearly destroyed his family. Later, after he’d made something of himself, when he knew his mum had forgiven him, and when he’d been able to legitimately step up and help take care of her, the crushing guilt subsided.
For a while, he’d been content, thrilled with his good fortune, busy working like a dog and making music with the band. Now, although his life was full, loneliness was his constant companion, even in a room full of people.
His last attempt at a meaningful relationship had imploded in a spectacular fashion. If he’d been considered a player before Natalia wreaked havoc on his personal life, he’d upped his game in the months following. He told himself he couldn’t trust a woman’s intent now, since the last one had clearly been using him for his connections. But the reality was, she’d hurt him, and he was still licking his wounds.
Teag wanted what Fiona and Jake had, something he’d never witnessed as a kid. On some level, he knew he’d never find it if his bedroom had a revolving door, and if the women he chose to sleep with were using him as much as he was using them. He loved women and he loved sex, no denying that, but the game was getting old.
It was a conundrum because currently, the one woman who intrigued him, who made him consider altering his wicked ways and giving real dating a chance one more time, would barely speak two words to him.
Ah, well. Maria Ruiz was a problem for another day. Teag had a different little lady who needed his undivided attention.
