Page 68
Story: Code Name: Michelangelo
“It’s no way to live,” Brand said under his breath.
“I’d definitely want to ask her first before just showing up with you.”
“Of course.” He stood. “More coffee?”
“I like some, but I’ll either have to come inside or bring a blanket out here. Why is it this chilly when we’re not even halfway through October?”
Brand set his mug down and embraced me from behind. “I know how we can warm up.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Out here?”
“Come now, where’s your sense of adventure?”
I did feel like a stick in the mud. “We should go to the cottage.”
His eyes lit up. “Could we?”
“Sure. The gallery is closed for the next three days.”
“I have fond memories of the place.”
“Let’s make some new ones.”
Brand smiled, held out his hand, and pulled me into his arms. “I cannot help thinking your suggestion we go to the island relates in some way to us ‘warming up’ out here in the garden.”
“Smart man.”
He groaned in the same way he had last night when he walked into the bedroom and found me clad in nothing but a silk robe.
Packing was stalled once by our need for a quickie in anticipation of our time alone on the island. When Brand pressed me up against the wall on our way out the front door and kissed me, I warned him that the car service we’d hired to take us to the ferry landing was outside and, if we didn’t leave now, it would be that much longer before we could spend the next three days making love anywhere and any way we wanted to.
Not that we were able to keep our hands to ourselves on the ninety-minute drive to the ferry landing. Thankfully, the car he’d hired had a partition we could raise between the driver and us. Even the ferry crossing seemed hours long rather than thirty minutes.
By the time we reached the cottage, we were already shedding clothes that landed in a heap next to the front door. Not the smartest move since it was freezing inside the place. Even the sheets were ice cold, not that they’d stay that way for long.
On our way to the bedroom, I’d cranked up the heat on the thermostat while Brand lit fires in the family room and the room we were now in.
“Every minute we were here the first time Tara brought me, I imagined you naked and beneath me. I wanted you then with the same desire I feel now. You in that hot-pink bikini only fueled the flames.”
“I could tell.” I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “This was one of my fantasies. I propose we take turns fulfilling them.”
“We’ll need more than three days for mine.” His last word came out as a gasp when I lowered myself onto his hardness. “Although this was one of them.”
Over the next month, we returned to the cottage on Fire Island every chance we got. I spent our time in the city at the gallery while Brand split his between there and the Farm, where he continued training with Sundance. He was usually only gone three or four days, but when he got back, he was physically and mentally exhausted. The rest of the time, he spent painting. Most of the pieces I’d seen were done in the town house’s garden but also in different areas of my small neighborhood.
He told me how he used to come here and paint when he was younger and how many times he got asked to leave.
“Now, many of the residents stop and talk, ask about my work, and inquire about where they can purchase a piece.”
“Too bad we can’t mount a show for you at Catarina Benedetto,” I said, looking through the many canvases he’d completed. Since most were oils, they were set out on the fifth floor to dry.
Thinking about staging a show reminded me of Julie Smith, another person I’d wanted to represent. She hadn’t shown up in the park any of the times I went. Not that I’d been that often since Brand got back.
“What?” I asked when I glanced over and saw him studying me.
“There’s something we need to talk about.”
Upon hearing the same words I’d uttered every time I ended a relationship, my gut clenched, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was to think he’d break up with me, given how happy we both were, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I’d definitely want to ask her first before just showing up with you.”
“Of course.” He stood. “More coffee?”
“I like some, but I’ll either have to come inside or bring a blanket out here. Why is it this chilly when we’re not even halfway through October?”
Brand set his mug down and embraced me from behind. “I know how we can warm up.”
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Out here?”
“Come now, where’s your sense of adventure?”
I did feel like a stick in the mud. “We should go to the cottage.”
His eyes lit up. “Could we?”
“Sure. The gallery is closed for the next three days.”
“I have fond memories of the place.”
“Let’s make some new ones.”
Brand smiled, held out his hand, and pulled me into his arms. “I cannot help thinking your suggestion we go to the island relates in some way to us ‘warming up’ out here in the garden.”
“Smart man.”
He groaned in the same way he had last night when he walked into the bedroom and found me clad in nothing but a silk robe.
Packing was stalled once by our need for a quickie in anticipation of our time alone on the island. When Brand pressed me up against the wall on our way out the front door and kissed me, I warned him that the car service we’d hired to take us to the ferry landing was outside and, if we didn’t leave now, it would be that much longer before we could spend the next three days making love anywhere and any way we wanted to.
Not that we were able to keep our hands to ourselves on the ninety-minute drive to the ferry landing. Thankfully, the car he’d hired had a partition we could raise between the driver and us. Even the ferry crossing seemed hours long rather than thirty minutes.
By the time we reached the cottage, we were already shedding clothes that landed in a heap next to the front door. Not the smartest move since it was freezing inside the place. Even the sheets were ice cold, not that they’d stay that way for long.
On our way to the bedroom, I’d cranked up the heat on the thermostat while Brand lit fires in the family room and the room we were now in.
“Every minute we were here the first time Tara brought me, I imagined you naked and beneath me. I wanted you then with the same desire I feel now. You in that hot-pink bikini only fueled the flames.”
“I could tell.” I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “This was one of my fantasies. I propose we take turns fulfilling them.”
“We’ll need more than three days for mine.” His last word came out as a gasp when I lowered myself onto his hardness. “Although this was one of them.”
Over the next month, we returned to the cottage on Fire Island every chance we got. I spent our time in the city at the gallery while Brand split his between there and the Farm, where he continued training with Sundance. He was usually only gone three or four days, but when he got back, he was physically and mentally exhausted. The rest of the time, he spent painting. Most of the pieces I’d seen were done in the town house’s garden but also in different areas of my small neighborhood.
He told me how he used to come here and paint when he was younger and how many times he got asked to leave.
“Now, many of the residents stop and talk, ask about my work, and inquire about where they can purchase a piece.”
“Too bad we can’t mount a show for you at Catarina Benedetto,” I said, looking through the many canvases he’d completed. Since most were oils, they were set out on the fifth floor to dry.
Thinking about staging a show reminded me of Julie Smith, another person I’d wanted to represent. She hadn’t shown up in the park any of the times I went. Not that I’d been that often since Brand got back.
“What?” I asked when I glanced over and saw him studying me.
“There’s something we need to talk about.”
Upon hearing the same words I’d uttered every time I ended a relationship, my gut clenched, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was to think he’d break up with me, given how happy we both were, but I couldn’t help myself.
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