“Will you paint me a clover on my cheek?” I glance up at the little girl who is standing over me. I’m sitting on the sidewalk next to the building, out of people’s way. Her curly red hair is up in two little pigtails making her look utterly adorable. She’d wearing a shirt that says “I Pinch Back” that matches her green sunglasses. She’s pointing at one chubby cheek. I can’t help but smile.

“Where’s your mommy?” I ask her, glancing around the busy street worried she slipped free of her mom. The sidewalk is filled with people as the parade marches down the center of the street in the middle of downtown Denver, Colorado.

Children are always coming up to me. I’ve never been sure why, but they do. Not that I’m complaining. I love children. I spend most of my day surrounded by them at the center. Maybe I’m drawn to them because of my own lack of a family.

The little girl looks around as if finally remembering her mom. “There she is.” She points to the red-haired woman who is pushing through the crowd toward us calling for the girl.

“Mommy! She’s going to paint my cheek!” The girl claps excitedly.

“Evey, don’t scare Mommy like that by taking off. There were too many people around.” The woman bends down and pulls the little girl into a hug, relief clear on her face.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.” She gives her mom a small pout. I have to fight a smile because I know the little girl is going to get what she wants. Who could say no to that face?

The woman looks over at me. “You’re doing face painting?” She looks around me. I have paint set out but not because I was planning to face paint. I was painting the Shade building, something I’ve done many times over the past year since construction began on it. Something about its design always caught my attention and I began painting it in each stage of its construction. The whole thing was made of glass, but what’s special about it is the way it looks like it’s twisting on its way up. It’s not just straight up and down. It’s elegant but still different. When I first saw it, I felt like the building called to me for some reason. I’d never had such a hard pull to paint something before, one that hit me over and over again and drew me back to it.

I know today isn’t the best day to be painting it with all the people about for the parade, but I’d wanted to paint it while it was surrounded by people. I set the almost-complete painting up against the building, out of the way so no one steps on it while I dig through my bag looking for the small face painting kit I have.

I often paint children’s faces at the community center. When I find it, I pull it out. “It’s your lucky day,” I tell the little girl. She jumps up and down.

I paint her little chubby cheek the best I can with her giggling every time the brush strokes her cheek. When I’m done she gives me a hug. Her mom hands me a five-dollar bill and I slip it into my back pocket. It’s not as if I’m in a place to refuse money, even if I would have loved to have done it for free. I need every dime I can get my hands on.

I’ve been saving up to get a place, but I have a weakness for two things: the bakery next to the community center, and art supplies. Not to mention I’m always giving some to the kids at the center who need a little extra cash. Hopefully I can stay at the center for a while. At least until I get caught.

I watch the girl and her mom slip back into the crowd. A few more kids come up to me asking for face paintings. It isn't long before I’ve made an extra fifty bucks cash. I glance over at the painting I still need to finish. A trace of sadness washes over me. After this I’ll be done. The building is complete.

Suddenly paint splashes everywhere. I fall back on my ass as some hits my black leggings and splatters on shirt. Not that it matters. My clothes always have spots of paint on them. It’s nothing new.

“What the fuck!” someone barks out. Two firm hands grab me, pulling me up to my feet and into a hard chest that is spotted in green paint. My eyes travel up and up, meeting two of the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. My breath catches, not because of the color but of the hard intensity staring back down at me.

The man’s jaw is hard. Everything about him is hard. I wiggle against him, trying to break free of his hold. I gasp when I feel a different kind of hardness come up against me. Liquid heat floods through me, and my sudden attraction to him is strong.

“Be still,” he grits out. My face warms at the realization I was just wiggling against some stranger’s cock. Hell, I’ve never wiggled on any man’s cock if I’m honest. His hands on me tighten a little more. “You ruined my suit.” He cocks his head to the side as if studying me. For some reason I wonder what he sees. Then I remember I’m covered in paint as well. I can even feel it in my hair.

I inwardly cringe. This man’s suit has got to be worth an easy grand. I’d never be able to pay something like that back. Maybe he should have been watching where he was going, I tell myself, trying to make myself feel better because I do feel a little guilty.

“I think I made it look better,” I joke, hoping to lighten the mood and dispel that hard look from his face. I glance to the side to see a man just as big as the one holding me, and he smirks. Hell, that guy’s suit probably cost even more than a thousand freaking dollars. I’m guessing he has to have it specially made to fit all this hard bulk he has going on.

“Eyes,” the stranger barks, making me jerk my eyes back to him. He looks even more pissed now. His nostrils flare and I swear he looks like a caged beast just waiting for someone to open the locked door.

“Sorry.” I smile, trying to lighten the mood once again, but it does nothing.

“Mr. Shade.” The man next to him tries to grab his attention, but Mr. Shade’s eyes never leave me. It’s almost like he can see inside me.

“Shit,” I mumble. Shade as in the building I’m painting. Great. Now I think the suit probably cost more. My shitty luck. Of course I have to ruin the suit of likely the richest man in the city. Probably the state.

“You’re coming with me.” He pulls me even closer to him. His hard cock digs into me. I lick my lips, drawing his attention there, then I move my hands to flatten on his bulky chest. God, he smells good. Like whiskey with a hint of oak. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to give him as hard of a look as he’s giving me. One that says I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care who you are.

It doesn't work.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Let me go, you big brute.” I struggle in his tight hold but can’t break free. This only makes him cock a half smile as if entertained by me trying to break free. “Who do you think you are?” I ask stupidly. I’m pissed that he thinks he has the right to just grab me and take me with him, though a small voice in my head tells me to go with him. A tiny part of me likes being pressed against him.

“Someone you owe a suit.”

“Keep dreaming,” I throw back at him tartly as if he doesn’t already have a hold on me. “I don’t even want to know what this ugly suit cost. I did you a favor,” I lie. The suit looks good on him. Too good. Even the fabric under my fingertips feels nice to the touch. I start stroking the suit absently, forgetting for a moment I’m pissed. Oh, and I’m pretty sure I’m turned on, too.

He sucks in a deep breath and I stop petting him. Embarrassment rushes over me at what I was doing. Jesus. Get it together. “How about you work off the cost of the suit?” My mouth falls open at his innuendo. Great. Of course I have to be turned on and petting a arrogent jerk who’s apparently into paying to get his cock jerked. It pisses me off but simultaneously starts off an ache in my chest.

I lift my foot and bring it down hard on his foot. Then I push at his chest as hard as I can, taking him by surprise. We both stumble. He lets me go and I trip over my own feet falling on my ass next to my backpack. It knocks the breath out of me.

I glance up to see the man only stumble back a foot or two, then gather himself to come back for me. I grab the paint can I have out, lifting it and throwing it right at him. Green paint splatters everywhere. Shock forms on his face, and I grab my bag, hop to my feet, then take off running through the crowd as fast I can. I’m petite, so I can easily cut through the mass of people. I should be able to lose him. When I glance over my shoulder I see how wrong I am. I forgot how freaking tall he was. He can easily spot me as he towers over everyone else.

His eyes are on me as he pushes through the crowd, commanding people to move out of his way. I stumble onto the street and into the parade, tripping over something. A cop yells at me to get out of the street. I look back and see Shade is getting closer, a look of determination on his face.

“Charlie!” I turn to see my best friend Fredrik standing on top of a float. I smile. Looks like my luck just changed.