Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“No, it’s, uh…” What did I say here? I tried to think of the right words, then decided to be vague. “A good opportunity.” And it was. Not any better than the gallery I’d been a curator at in Boston for the past sixteen years, but he didn’t need specifics.
“Thought you were gonna be an artist,” he replied, as if judging me.
“I’m a curator for an art gallery in Boston,” I replied. That should have actually been past tense. I’d left that job last week. “The job here is at an art gallery, but, yes, I do paint. I, uh, mostly do equestrian paintings.”
I was actually becoming sought after in the world of horse breeders and owners, but I wasn’t telling him that. It had started with one piece I’d done after attending a Kentucky Derby with friends of ours. The piece sold almost immediately from the gallery. Then the owner contacted me, wanting to know if I’d come to her stables and do a painting of her horse there. It had slowly begun to grow as friends of hers saw it and wanted ones done of their horses. Those who had champions or retired former champions hired me to capture their horse on canvas.
“You paint horses,” he replied, as if disappointed in me, while he had dreadlocks, a biker club vest on, and a stripper wannabe as a girlfriend.
I dropped my eyes to his left hand, realizing that he could be married, but the only rings on his fingers ranged from a black-and-silver skull, a piece of twisted leather, and one that looked like a chain. His right hand had another skull, but this one was on a cross, and then a round, flat black onyx with what looked like barbed wire over part of it. None, however, were on his ring finger.
“I’m not stupid enough to lock myself down to one cunt. There ain’t a pussy that fucking magical.”
My eyes shot back up to his face. He looked mockingly at me, as if to remind me that my pussy was also included in that. Rome had been my first. Eamon, my second and last.
A tight smile formed on my lips. “I’m glad you got the life you wanted, Rome,” I replied.
His dark chuckle sent chill bumps up my arms. “Come on now, Salem. No one truly gets the life they want.”
Salem. A name he’d rarely ever used. Almost since day one, he’d addressed me as Angel Face.
“Tex,” a female voice called out close behind me.
Rome’s eyes slowly moved from me to look over my shoulder before returning.
“Or maybe you did,” he continued.
Had I? I wanted to believe that Eamon had been it. The life I’d wanted. But even if he hadn’t been, I hadn’t wanted to lose him. We’d planned to grow old together.
“Hey, baby, I was going to get another drink and wanted to know—” The female voice stopped, and a strong perfume hit my nose. Then the woman from his lap strutted past me with a sharp glare as our eyes met. “If you wanted another,” she finished, turning her focus back to Rome.
She’d called him Tex. Why was he going by another name?
His eyes soaked her in as if she were a treat he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. They must be new since he tired of a woman after a while. No magical pussies for him.
“I need to go pay and, uh, leave,” I said in a rushed breath.
If he was going to introduce me, I really would rather pass on that.
The woman slid a possessive hand up and rested it on his chest as her expression became threatening.
Okay. Yeah. Gonna go now. Enjoy him while you have his attention.
Without waiting on him to respond, I turned and walked away. Maybe Miami wasn’t for me after all. Perhaps I should consider a new state. One I’d not been to before. Start fresh.
I noticed Pepper at my booth now, and her eyes went from me to the two behind me in the small hallway. She probably knew them, too, seeing as she was related to the vice president of his club.
I’d smile, pay, and escape.
Never to step foot in here again.
5
Tex
My fingers wrapped around Amethyst’s wrist, and I slung her hand off me before stalking in the direction Salem had gone. My eyes bored into her backside and the subtle sway to her hips as she walked. That hadn’t changed either. It was effortless for her.
A darkness had sunk into me, baring its fangs and latching on when I saw the diamond and wedding band on her left hand. I’d known she’d probably be married and have kids, a dog, a white motherfucking picket fence, and I’d always told myself that was what I wanted. Mom would have wanted it.
No one had prepared me for the ferocity of my reaction to it though. Seeing it was another monster. It was a fucking beast now, brewing inside me. I shouldn’t care. Eighteen goddamn years. I should not care!