Chapter 8

Erica

"Is he okay?" Jonathan asked me as he leaned back in his chair. The gangly artist was exactly what one would expect of an art dealer. His shirt was every color of the rainbow and his dark hair was slicked back. His wife was cute, but lost to a game on her phone. It was almost comical, at least it was before Matt got a wild look in his eyes and bolted for the door.

Maybe I'd overstepped my boundaries.

"I think so. Let me go check on him." I got up and walked through the restaurant searching for him. Worry wrapped in fear danced through my stomach as I reached the front door. What was I going to do if he'd left me there?

"Hey. I'm right here." He turned to face me as the wind picked up from the water and blew his blond hair about.

"You okay?" I walked toward him, wanting to reach out and touch him, but knowing that it was probably better that I didn't.

"Yeah. I just felt a little overwhelmed. I've wanted to share my art my whole life, but it needed to be on my terms, you know?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can back up some. I should have let you-"

He lifted his finger and pressed it to my lips. "No, it's not that. I love what you're doing for me. I meant that I wanted to gain this privilege on my own and not with my father's help. I've done that now. It's an incredible feeling, but all the emotions raging inside of me have me a little dizzy."

I gripped his wrist lightly and pulled his finger from my mouth. "So you want me to help, or no? I'm good either way. I just want what's best for you."

He smiled and studied my face. "I want your help. You're my girl after all, right?"

I want to be.

I chuckled. "Yeah. I'm playing that part for the night."

"All night?" His smile faded and he took a step closer to me, sucking the air out of the patio around us and leaving my knees weak.

Every wicked hot fantasy I'd had of him blasted through my vision and I stifled a moan.

"Don't tease me," I whispered roughly and moved back toward the door.

"I thought women liked to be teased." He reached around me and held the door open as I walked back in. He towered over me in a way that left me feeling petite and feminine. I loved it with a passion.

"Only in the bedroom." I glanced behind me and winked as his eyes widened.

"I'll remember that." He touched my lower back and moved up beside me.

"You sure you're okay with me negotiating on your behalf?"

"Yeah. I love it. It's a turn on." He glanced down at me, the look on his face sensual and strong.

I had no doubt that he was two different personalities, like all of us were. The fun-loving guy that enjoyed a good laugh and wanted life to be a party was only part of who he was. I wanted to see the other side of him. The one I kept catching glimpses of, though he was more than enough no matter if I ever saw it.

I took my seat and ignored his comment about me being dominant being a turn on. I could analyze it later that night while I worked myself into a frenzy alone in my bed.

"Everyone good?" Jonathan gave us a warm smile and lifted the bottle of wine. "The liquor is here, so this party is just going to get better and better."

We laughed and worked through the rest of the details on Matt's contract. It would seem that Jonathan had the chance to show Matt's work to some of his high net worth clients and they loved the paintings. The first showing would just be for them, and the profits on the event would be split sixty-forty in Matt's favor. I had to whittle Jonathan down and give Matt more than a few stern looks to make it all happen, but in the end it all worked out.

"I have to say that I'm rather impressed." Jonathan stood next to me at the front of the restaurant. Matt had a call he had to take, and Margaret was in the restroom.

"How so?" I turned and lifted my eyes to focus on him.

"Matthew is a Bryant. Rarely do men like him let a woman do his bidding. He's a different bird than his flock, no?"

"He is, but in a good way, I think." I glanced out to catch a glimpse of him walking back and forth in front of the restaurant. His ass looked divine in his slacks, but I couldn't help but lament over him not having his jeans on anymore. I'd have to talk him into wearing them to the concert the next night. Just the thought of having another night with him left me smiling like a silly schoolgirl.

"Does he know that you're in love with him?" Jonathan picked up a mint and offered it to me.

"No. He has no clue," I murmured and popped it into my mouth. "It's far more complicated than you might think."

"Most things worth having are." He chuckled.

Matt walked back through the front door as he slipped his phone in his pocket and smiled.

"Just Damon checking in on things. He was glad to hear that you were here with me." He winked at me.

"That's because he knows you care very little about money and would give your stuff away for free if we let you." I reached out and brushed something off his dark green shirt. "It's worth too much to let it be devalued."

"The woman is right." Jonathan moved back as his wife rejoined us. "And I think the same could be said about me. I love to share my art, but people are quick to take advantage of anything they can. Show it to those that will appreciate it most, and then when you're well-known and wealthy... show it to everyone who will look."

"I like that." Matt nodded and offered me his arm. "You ready?"

"One more thing." Jonathan lifted his finger. "What are your plans on moving up here to join us versus staying in Dallas?"

"I haven't decided yet." Matt's eyes shifted back toward me. "It's still up in the air. This pretty woman right here is trying to talk me into coming to work for her at my father's firm."

"Oh, interesting." Jonathan tilted his head to the side and studied me. "Please do tell me that you're involved in the advertising for McKenzie and Bryant. I love their slogan so much. It was done by a world-class artist."

"Erica did that for us." Matt ran his hand down my back, resting his fingers just above the curve of my rear and leaving my pulse to spike. I wanted so much more than he would offer, but the simplicity of his touch left me on edge and almost panting. How much could I really handle?

Jonathan laughed loudly and clapped his hands. "Erica Hall. You aren't just Matt's agent and his girlfriend, you're an artist yourself."

"I used to be." I clasped my hands together in front of my waist and glanced back over toward Matt. "Let's get out of here before he starts trying to show my work too."

"Oh I would love that," Jonathan cooed.

We all laughed and said our goodbyes. I watched Jonathan and his wife walk toward the parking lot, laughing about something and seeming to enjoy each other.

"I like him." I turned to face Matt as his Audi pulled up beside us.

"He's a good guy. Different, but I would assume most art dealers need to be a little mysterious, right?"

I laughed and got in the car as one of the valets held the door open for me. "Do you think art has to be mysterious?"

"No, but I think when we look at a panting, it's always going to be part of the experience. Just think about it. You're trying to see into the mind of the artist, right? You're constantly thinking to yourself, what the hell was he thinking when he painted this."

I laughed and snuggled back into my seat. The wine warmed my blood and left me feeling far more open that I would have allowed otherwise.

"Where are you staying again?"

"I was going to stay at the Hyatt, but they overbooked the damn place, remember?" He smiled and glanced over at me. "You're drunk."

"I am not." I sat up and smiled.

"You're pretty close. I like it. It's cute." He pulled out into traffic and rolled the windows down. "It feels so damn good out here in the fall."

"Stay with me tonight." I reached out and turned the air off. "You don't need to get another hotel. You and I have been friends for a while now. I have a couch. You can take it, or I will, but don't go trying to find a hotel this late at night."

"It's eight." He stopped at a red light and reached over to touch my shoulder. He brushed the back of his fingers down my exposed skin and breathed in deeply. "I'm not sure staying with you would be a good idea. You taking charge and working all that shit out tonight was a huge turn on. As if you weren't enough, but your aggressive ass personality is incredibly drawing."

"Drawing?" I forced myself not to reach for his hand. I wanted to feel his fingers glide on every part of me, needed to with a desire that I hadn't felt in years.

"Yeah. It pulls me closer to you. Scares the fuck outta me too." He turned the station to something a little more upbeat. "I'll sleep on the couch if you're okay with that. How about we pick up the stuff to make cookies or brownies or something? I have a sweet tooth that isn't going to let me go without giving it attention tonight."

"Mmmm... I haven't had sweets in almost four months."

"What?" He pulled into a small grocery store down from my condo. "You're not living if you're not indulging from time to time, woman."

"Woman?" I got out of the car and laughed at the stern look he gave me. "How many personalities do you have, Mr. Bryant?"

"More than I care to count." He held the door open for me and moved up beside me as I grabbed a cart and walked in. "Are you a cookie girl or a brownie girl."

"Both? I used to make something called slutty brownies back in college. They're delicious."

"I like the sound of them already." He laughed. "What's in these hookery treats?"

My turn to laugh. "Cookie dough, Oreos and brownie mix. Let's get everything we need and then we'll make them right when we get back to my place. Once you try these things, you'll never go back."

"Something tells me this weekend is going to make it hard as hell to consider going back in lots of ways," he mumbled and moved ahead of me to grab the cookie dough. He turned around and I let my eyes run up the length of his body.

"Are you afraid of me, Matt?"

"Terrified." He dropped the tube of dough into the basket and gripped the sides of the handle around me, trapping me against his chest. "You?"

"Not even an ounce," I panted softly, knowing we were about to step into something I might not survive.

"Hot," he whispered against my hair and walked toward the center of the grocery store.

I turned and watched him go, trying to decide if I was going to man up or run like hell.

Both sounded viable, but when he paused and glanced over his shoulder at me, I realized I wasn't going anywhere without him.

No matter the cost.