Dave led Janie down the stairs, not sure what to think. Seeing a painting of himself should’ve been strange. His cock was on it, for God’s sake. Hard, at that. Yet…he wasn’t freaked out. Proud, more than anything.

Everything his face was in, even partially, made him look really good. Much better than his image in a mirror. She clearly had a different scope when looking at him, and the effect was…

He hadn’t been lying. It was flattering.

Flattering wasn’t even an adequate word.

It made him feel like a god.

What other guy could have a girl like Janie, beautiful and smart and sassy, turn him immortal on a canvas? Make him into something so much better than he was in real life?

Knowing that he was her obsession, her muse, was indescribable. One of the best feelings of his life.

A pall settled over him as he descended the stairs.

It wasn’t a feeling he could keep. None of them were.

When he’d looked over her journey, he’d only recognized some of it. The deep, intense emotion. Feeling lighter than air. Wanting something so bad that he couldn’t think straight.

The paintings that conveyed darker emotions—the desire to back away, fear and uncertainty—weren’t as easy for him to relate to. The only time he’d ever felt like that around her was during his mom’s latest episode.

If he could paint, he’d title his masterwork Hopelessness. Because what he’d said to her upstairs was true. In order to have her, he’d have to give up Big Dig Escort Service. He knew that. No way could he be with anyone else when she was waiting for him at home. But to give up BD, he would be giving up his main source of income, which would mean sacrificing Betty’s security net.

He couldn’t. And no way would Janie let him. She was too good of a woman for that.

He took a deep breath as he walked into the kitchen. Everyone was busy, washing dishes or getting dessert ready, except for Ralph, who was absent, as usual.

“Where’ve you been?” Ethan asked with a grin. He paused in handing Martha a rinsed plate.

“Forcing a certain someone to show her work.” Dave carefully set one of the paintings against the back cabinets.

Activity in the kitchen slowed, making Martha look around in confusion. “What’s the matter?” She glanced back at Dave, and her eyes caught the painting.

She was the only one looking at that, though. Everyone else was looking at him.

“Did she let you in the room?” Colton asked with a straight face, not giving anything away.

“You want to know if I saw the ‘obsession’?” He grinned and set the other painting down. “Yes, I did. And I will bring in a lot of money, thank you very much.”

“What does that mean?” Martha asked, still looking at the first painting.

“Janie did a portrait of Dave.” Ethan rinsed another plate. “It is disproportionate.”

“It is exactly proportional. You, sir, are jealous.” Dave laughed and noticed Janie trying to sneak past the kitchen, headed toward the living room, where Ralph was surely sequestered.

“Nope.” He hurried after her, catching her nearly to the living room. The heat of her body soaked into him, and he paused for a moment, taking in her softness. Smelling her scent.

How he wished life were different. That he could pounce on her whenever the mood struck—and vice versa. Because he was every bit as in rapture with her as her paintings indicated she was with him. She made his heart ache in ways he’d never experienced. Ways he loved—and hated because of his situation.

“Where are the other two paintings?” He let her go, but continued to stand close.

“I left them at the foot of the stairs, hoping you’d forget.” She bit her lip. “This terrifies me, Dave. I don’t think you understand.” She took his palm and, looking up at him from under her thick lashes, placed it over her heart.

Which was very close to her perfect, round breast.

Her pupils dilated and her breath sped up, almost matching the hammering of her heart. “This is off-limits,” she said softly, moving his hand a fraction. To her breast. She reached for him, sliding her hand from his stomach to his hip. Her fingers curled around, and she slightly pulled him forward. “So is a quick kiss.”

“Yes, it is.” He brushed her lips with his. “I’m as hard as a rock, Janie, but I have to do the right thing.” He connected lips again, deepening the kiss and kneading her breast.

That was not at all what he’d meant to do.

Struggling to get grounding, he pulled back.

“And that?” Her eyes flicked down to his hand still kneading her breast. She grinned wickedly.

“Oops.” He pulled that away and stepped back. The cool air flash-froze him. “So what’s the problem? Stage fright?”

“Basically, yes. I can’t go in there. My palms are sweating just from the thought of it. How the hell would I ever do a big art show?”

Dave considered leading her back, but her wringing hands and darting eyes made it clear she really was terrified.

“Okay.” He motioned her away. “You’ll be the silent partner. I’ll field their questions. You go do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

She flashed him a relieved smile. “Thanks. I owe you a nude painting session.”

Fire rolled through him, adding to the already pounding flame in his gut. He tensed and squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s off-limits.”

“I didn’t say touching. I just said painting.”

“Then you better tie me up, or else I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“Sold.”

“Wait…” But she was already striding away.

“First step—”

Dave jumped about three feet.

Ethan was standing behind him with a shit-eating grin. “As I said, first step, hogtied. Second step, wake up in a bathtub full of ice, wondering where your kidney went.”

“I worry about you, Ethan. I really do.”

Dave went for the other two paintings and took them into the kitchen, where everyone was standing in a semicircle around the first two paintings, talking quietly.

“Well, Colton?” Ethan said. “Did she waste all that time in your spare room?”

Dave set the others down, leaning them against the island.

“She could definitely sell these. And you know what…” Martha tapped her chin. “I know the owner of a small gallery. I’m sure I do. She’s in my bridge club. Now, she is a close-mouthed, unhappy sort of woman, but maybe I can get one or two paintings in there. Let me go make myself a note.”

“Did you get a shock walking into that room?” Noah asked after Martha had bustled out, looking for her purse.

Madison leaned against the island. Her eyes held a warning. Clearly she did not want Dave dicking her friend around.

If only he could stop.

“The first painting I saw was”—he glanced behind him, making sure Martha was still gone—“the portrait.”

“That’d be a trip if you weren’t expecting it, but I’d be into getting a portrait like that.” Ethan poured himself more wine. “I bet I could get a buyer, easy.”

“I bet I could sell one of myself, but I wouldn’t want to pose.” Noah scratched the back of his head, grimacing. “That’d be embarrassing.”

“I didn’t pose,” Dave said.

“You walk around naked.” Noah quirked an eyebrow at him. “You probably walk around naked with a hard-on.”

Dave curled his lips. “Guilty.”

“I bet you could still sell it if you posed half-clothed.” Ethan nodded at Noah.

Noah shrugged. “Probably.” A slick smile crossed his face. “Do we get royalties?”

“Here’s the problems that I see.” Madison stalked forward. “Janie isn’t even comfortable with friends and family seeing any of her paintings. How is she going to talk a gallery into showing them? Her terror would be obvious.”

“I can talk a gallery into showing one,” Dave said. He caught Colton raising a beer, asking the room at large if anyone wanted one. Dave raised his hand. “I can charm words out of a mime.”

“It won’t be so easy,” Madison responded. “Galleries like to have a relationship with the artist. They like to bring in proven sellers. They also have a bunch of artists who want to get onto their walls, and only so much space to accommodate them. Getting in won’t be as easy as getting laid.”

“Things rarely are.” Colton sobered when he got a look. “Except with you, honey. Getting laid is extremely difficult with you.”

“It will be after that comment, anyway.” Noah laughed.

“The second problem,” Madison continued undaunted, “is that while Janie is obviously crazy talented, her paintings are edgy. Kind of off-beat, like she is. They’ll require a certain type of buyer. If the seller doesn’t have experience with this sort of style, he or she won’t be able to sell them.”

“So we find sellers that can do the job.” Dave shrugged.

“The third problem is the business side,” Madison went on. “Janie isn’t good at that, and I am up to my ears with my job and Colton’s playground—”

“You too?” Colton shook his head miserably.

“—so I won’t have time to do much more than check over the contracts she gets. She’ll need someone doing inventory, bookkeeping, marketing…”

“I agree. This won’t be just about art. She’ll be running a full-fledged business.” Colton twisted his mouth to the side in thought. “She needs a business partner.”

For the second time, everyone looked at Dave.