Page 3 of Balancing Act
“I guess so.” The woman arched an eyebrow and shrugged, then turned to look back at the painting on the wall, sliding her hands into her pockets in one effortless movement.
Beth swirled her champagne slowly as she, too, surveyed the piece, tilting her head slightly and tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She caught the quick glance thewoman tossed at her as Beth took in her painting, standing so close their shoulders were almost brushing.
“You know, I don’t get art,” the woman mused, her voice coated in a slight huskiness Beth hadn’t expected. She turned those deep brown eyes back on Beth, shifting her weight slightly.
Beth couldn’t help the way her eyes flicked—just for a moment—to the woman’s lips before she caught herself and quickly redirected her focus back to where it should be.
“Art makes you think too hard sometimes,” the woman said with a teasing smile, those dimples flashing just enough to undo Beth. “Kind of feels like beautiful bullshit, you know?”
The distance between them seemed to shrink, the air charged with an undeniable pull despite the woman’s teasing words.
Beth smiled, spinning the stem of the champagne glass between her thumb and forefinger. “That’s refreshingly honest.” She laughed. “As the artist, I can personally assure you I try to keep my artwork as bullshit-free as possible, but that’s not to say others are as mindful.” Beth grinned playfully, extending her hand to the woman. “Beth Walsh. Nice to meet you.”
“I know who you are.” The woman smirked as she reached for Beth’s hand. “I’m Jamie. Jamie Lyons,” she said, as her smirk melted into a smile, her sharp jawline softening.
Jamie Lyons.The name echoed in Beth’s head. Jamie Lyons... Why did that name sound so familiar? Had they met before? Maybe it was one of those names that sounded like a name you’d heard but wasn’t. It had to be that, because Beth would have remembered meeting someone like Jamie. Whoever she was, Jamie was flirting with her, and Beth was flirting right back.
She squeezed Jamie’s hand and felt a surge of electricity between them, their hands lingering, neither in a hurry to let go.
The look Jamie gave her dared Beth to dive in, sending a spark up her arm. For a moment, she was breathless, lostin those velvety brown eyes flecked with amber, glowing like embers under the gallery lights. She took in Jamie’s appearance and God those lips—they seemed so soft and inviting—and Beth couldn’t help but wonder how they’d taste.
Beth tilted her head toward Jamie with curiosity as she dropped her hand. “So, Jamie Lyons, what brings you here tonight if not the art?”
She watched Jamie slide her hand back into her pocket, laugh, and glance at her shoes. The subtle shyness surprised her. It was not quite what she had been expecting—a departure from the intense, loud personalities Beth was usually drawn to. Something about how Jamie carried herself—a hint of strength and confidence beneath a seemingly shy exterior—piqued Beth’s curiosity.
“I don’t know what gave you the impression that I’m not here for the art, Ms. Walsh.” A playful glint flashed across Jamie’s eyes, making Beth smile. “As of...”—she checked the gold watch on her wrist—“. . . two hours ago, I happen to be your newest fan.”
“Is that right?” Beth took another sip from her champagne, and this time, she caught Jamie’s eyes lingering on her mouth. Jamie flashed Beth a cunning smile, like she knew she had been caught and was still about to get what she wanted.
“I’m here with a friend. As wingwoman.” Beth followed Jamie’s gaze across the room to the redhead she had seen her talking to earlier. “She’s got a thing for your friend—the gallery owner. But it doesn’t look like she needs my help now,” Jamie said, lifting a dark eyebrow at Beth.
“No, I don’t think she does,” Beth agreed, eyeing the redhead across the room, deep in conversation with Sean.
“I told her she wouldn’t need me, but she insisted I come along. I got back to town a few days ago. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the area.”
“Back? Are you from here, then?”
“Yup. Grew up in the area. Staying for a few months to help my friend out, and then I’m out of here.”
For a moment, Beth’s smile flickered as the reality hit her. Jamie was only passing through. The thought of a no-strings fling sparked a tempting thrill: simple, uncomplicated, and exactly what she needed. But beneath that was a softer, unexpected ache. This connection—sharp, electric—felt too rare to ignore. She shook the thought off. Now was not the time to dive into anything deeper. This was supposed to be her time to celebrate herself, her success, and everything she’d worked so hard for.
“What’s kept you away for so long?” Beth asked.
A coquettish grin formed on Jamie’s lips, and Beth was hooked. She was effortlessly expressive, and with every word she spoke, Beth only wanted to hear more.
“That’s a story best told over a nice dinner, and a glass of wine or two. Who knows, maybe you can help broaden my perspective on art?” Jamie’s tone lifted at the end of her thought, leaving the invitation dangling between them. It was an immediate yes for Beth, obviously. Screw one-night stands, pun intended. She couldn’t quell the desire that had been building all evening. Why wait until dinner to have what she wanted? Tonight was about celebrating her accomplishments, and she knew exactly how she wanted to reward herself. She felt emboldened by that thought as a fire coursed through her.
“Dinner sounds nice, but I had my thoughts set on something a little more immediate.” This time, Beth made sure Jamie was watching as she let her eyes trail down the other woman’s body with purpose. Her gaze traced Jamie’s lips, the hint of her collarbone peeking out from under her shirt where just the first button was undone, and down the sharp lines of her suit beforesnapping back to meet her eyes. How could someone be so effortlessly sexy?
Immediate satisfaction filled Beth as a faint blush spread across Jamie’s cheeks. She flashed a devilish smile at Jamie as she leaned in, her voice dropping lower. “I’d love your thoughts on a new piece I’m working on,” she murmured, her breath warm against Jamie’s ear. “No time like the present to start changing your perspective on art.” Jamie shivered, which only emboldened her more. “You know, to make sure it’s not bullshit.” Beth grinned, pulling back to meet Jamie’s eye.
Jamie, to her credit, didn’t even flinch, but Beth saw it in her eyes—the desire lighting there.
Jamie nodded slowly as that cheeky grin returned, and Beth beckoned for Jamie to follow her. She briefly looked over her shoulder and caught Sean’s eye. He smirked as he lifted his glass to her silently. Of course he’d noticed.
Beth led Jamie away from the party and down a quiet hallway to her studio, which, to her horror, was more disorganized than she had thought it’d be. Easels dotted the room, and scattered art supplies cluttered a small desk in the corner. She rarely worked here, preferring her home studio, but Sean insisted she work here occasionally.
“Are artists always this messy?” Jamie teased, her eyes skimming the room as Beth stepped closer.