Текст книги "Truth in Watercolors"

Автор книги: Kimberly Rose

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

“These are really something,” my mom said holding up one of my paintings.

“They’re okay,” I said still not satisfied with using so few colors, and I probably never would be.

“Sweetheart,” she rolled up the picture I’d painted for fun of a dog’s paw smashing into the sand at the dog beach and put it into a box, “clearly they are more than okay. That hotel bigwig bought a few, and the gallery extended your showing for another month. That’s not okay. My little girl is brilliant.”

I smiled at her and rolled the packing tape across the box I’d just filled. Brilliant was a stretch, but I had to admit I was pretty proud of myself. It was a week after the bachelorette party that I got the phone call. I knew that because it was the first day I had left the house since Wes had broken my heart. It was also the day I gave up on waiting for him to call or come by.

Bia called that day saying the owner of The Bay purchased three of my paintings. It might not sound like a lot, but I’d just become the richest I’d ever been. I finally felt validated. Being colorblind could not, and would not, stop me from creating art people wanted to both see and purchase. It was after that phone call that I packed my Wes portfolio into the car and took it down to the gallery to ask about a showing. Bia instantly approved it, and after a month of increased foot traffic through my section of the gallery, she extended the showing.

The small purchase the owner of The Bay made had given me enough money for the first two months’ rent on an apartment in Mission Bay. It was a tiny place, but it was all mine. The complex was even just minutes away from SYC where I was officially employed as the new art director. Not long after August had the reopening, his funding came through for an art program.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time, all positive changes. I should be optimistic about the forward momentum my life had suddenly taken, but I couldn’t help feeling saddened that I wasn’t sharing it with the one person who helped me get here.

“How have you been feeling lately?” My mom eyed me as she stacked one box on top of another. When they’d returned from their Mexico trip and saw my heartbreak covering the house in tissues and dirty dishes, she stayed home with me until I got back on my feet again.

“Better.” I shrugged a shoulder and folded up a new box. It was a little true anyway. I mean, I was exiting the house and eating normally again. I still found myself crying some nights as I fell asleep or letting tears fall in the shower, but I didn’t sit in the sadness for much longer than those moments.

“You know sweetie, I really do believe this will be one of his biggest regrets in his life.” My mom sat down on the bed next to me, obviously wanting to talk, but I kept myself busy filling boxes.

“Sucks for him,” I said tossing my sketchbook in quickly avoiding its memories.

“Not if he realizes soon enough that he made a mistake. Some people know immediately, but others, unfortunately, can’t see where they went wrong until much later in life, if ever.”

“And what if he sees that he’s made a mistake?” I asked taping up another box.

“You forgive him.”

“And what if he never realizes he messed up?” I blew a piece of hair from my eyes and sat on the bed next to her.

“You still forgive him.” She took the tape gun from my hands and set it aside.

“That’s dumb, Mom,” I told her, and she laughed.

“It’s not dumb. You forgive him regardless for yourself so you can move on to whatever direction your life goes. Whether it’s with him or not.”

I huffed out a sigh and looked around my room. What once was filled with the emptiness of the color white truly was empty now. If I hadn’t had been so fearful, I wonder if I ever would have been brave enough to add some color to the space even if only in one I could see? I guess that might turn out to be one of my regrets, spending years hiding myself behind insecurity rather than living in uniqueness.

“Do you have any regrets, Mom?” I asked her pulling a pillow onto my lap.

“So many.” She laughed and got a far-off look in her eyes. “I regret the time I quit flag team in high school to play soccer so I could be around the boys more.”

“Oh, Mom.” I scrunched my face in disgusted amusement.

“I know.” She smiled at me. “I regret the time I took your dad to see Bob Dylan for his birthday.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell Lennon, but I slept through most the show.” I giggled at that and made a mental note to tell Lennon as soon as I saw her next. “And I regret not discussing your colorblindness with you more often.” She reached over taking one of my hands and giving it a squeeze.

“Mom.” I pulled her in for a hug. “You don’t have to regret that,” I said over her shoulder then pulled away.

“If we’d been more open about it, with you and everyone, I think you wouldn’t have felt so insecure. To know what we thought was protecting you may have hurt you is something I will always regret.” My mom reached up and tucked that pesky piece of hair back behind my ear.

“Maybe,” I said to her. “Maybe talking about it more would have changed how I felt, or maybe not. At the end of the day, I’m an adult now, and I’m not going to blame what happened as a kid on how I am today. I made the choice to continue hiding, and that’s all on me.”

“You’re incredible,” my mom said tapping away the tears lodged in the corners of her eyes. “Some man one day will see that, too,” my mom said patting my leg as she stood from my bed. Some man, but not Wes, I suppose.

I taped up the last of the boxes and took in my cardboard room. This was it. I was leaving home, but it was so much more. I was stepping away from my comfort zone, my sanctuary, my hideout, and my self-imposed prison. Still, I felt so much more in control of my life at this second than I had the entire time I struggled to control it.

Clink. Something sounded near my window, and my attention went to the ornament still hanging. I hadn’t decided yet if I wanted to take it with me. Somehow, it signified the beginning of Wes and me, and now that there was an end, I didn’t think it should come.

Clink. The sound echoed off the empty walls. I walked over and unhooked the ornament holding the tiny crystal paintbrush in my palm. It really was gorgeous, and even if Wes wasn’t in my life, painting sure was.

Clink. I peered out of my window into the night.

Clink. I jumped when a rock hit at the exact spot my face was pressed against. Then I knew. Do I open it? Do I walk away? I ran my thumb over the cool crystal in my hand and took a slow step back to my window. I lifted it slowly and poked my head out just enough to look down.

“Hey, baby.” He smiled from the grass waving his hand at me enthusiastically.

“Have you lost your damn mind,” I seethed down at him. Who did he think he was? Leaving me, not speaking to me for weeks, and then showing up at my window like freakin’ Romeo calling me baby?

“I did for a little while, but I’d like to think I got the bastard back in gear.” He tapped his head with his finger.

“What do you want?” I asked him only a tiny bit amused by his chipper state.

“I wanna show you something.” He waved his hand toward him. “Come down.”

“It’s not that easy, Wes.” I shook my head at him. I felt the urge to fall right back into us, but I reminded myself of all that he put between us.

“I know that,” he said putting his hands out wide. “I know I fucked up. I know I pushed you, and I know how much I hurt you. I also know how sorry I am; I know that no woman will ever come close to being as special to me as you are, and I know how much I need you.” There they were. The words I needed to hear weeks ago. My heart pounded in my chest coming back to life.

“Capri, go talk to the boy so I can get some sleep.”

“Dad!” I shouted at the same time Wes yelled, “Mr. Hunter?” My parents’ room was further down the hall but faced the same side of the house, and sure enough, my dad’s heading poking out of their window down the way.

“Don’t say anything more to me, Weston. I’m on your side right now, and I have a feeling if anything else comes from that mouth of yours, that may change.”

“Yes, sir,” Wes quickly replied as I hung my head out gawking at my dad. He was on Wes’ side?

“And thanks for the fruit basket,” he added.

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“And don’t ask me about siding with him, Capri. You know you’re on his side, too. Go let the man explain and move already.” With that, I heard his window close.

“You heard the man,” Wes teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I said and saw his fist pumping shadow. “But this changes nothing, Wes,” I firmly said.

“Baby, I’m about to change everything,” he shouted up at me and ran to meet me at the front of the house.

“Just close your eyes,” he pleaded with me.

“Wes, I’m not closing my eyes. You’re lucky I’m even in the car with you right now.” I sat as far into the metal door at my right as I could while we stopped at a red light. Somehow, Wes had convinced me to go with him to see whatever it was he needed to show me. It was probably the dimples. The dimples got me every time. I wasn’t going to make it easy for him, though.

“Capri, please. I don’t want you to see it until we’re there, and I promise if after, you still hate me, I’ll take you right home. Or better yet, I’ll call Lennon to come get you.”

“Okay,” I agreed only because I knew the wrath of Lennon on him in the middle of the night would make up for anything. I covered my eyes with my hands as he put the car back into gear.

Only a few minutes later, Wes was opening my door to help me out. “Keep both eyes covered with one hand, and I’m going to take the other okay?” he asked.

“’Kay,” I said back, sucking in a sharp breath. If it was even possible, the anticipation he sparked in me when he said he was going to touch my hand was far greater than even anticipating our first kiss, and I’d dreamed about that for years. Gently, his fingertips tickled the back of my hand in a ghost of a touch. I held my breath waiting for more. Then his calloused palm clasped around my hand so delicately it felt like he was holding onto so much more than my hand, and he helped me step out of the car.

My breath shuttered audibly, or maybe it sounded that way because my sight was compromised. Either way, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, leading me up to wherever we were.

“We’re here,” he said releasing my hand, and I heard the sound of his keys reaching into a lock. “Don’t open until I say.”

“Got it.” I followed him into a doorway by the hand again. Memories of the last time he’d taken me, with my eyes closed, through a door swarmed me. He’d shown me something so special and important to him that day, and in a way, I felt like I’d taken it away. Even with purchasing the shop for him, which I wasn’t sure he even kept, taking that financial responsibility from him stripped away the importance of the shop for him. I wish I’d seen it this clearly then.

“Shit, let me say this first.” Wes’ voice wrapped around me, and my arms hugged my body holding onto it. “I’ve worked really hard on this since the night I went to our gallery. Oh, and Capri, baby, your paintings were epic. I’ve never seen anything like them. Well, except that they were me, but you know what I mean. I digress, I think this is perfect, but if you don’t, if for one second you think it’s awful, tell me.”

“Can I open my eyes already?” I asked growing impatient with his mumbled insecurity.

“Okay, yeah, yeah. Okay, on the count of three.” I heard his heavy footsteps move to my right. “One.” I opened my eyes.

“You cheated!” Wes shouted, but I had no reaction. My eyes and my thoughts zeroed in on the room I stood in. His shop and not just the empty shell of a shop he’d first taken me to but a completely remodeled tattoo shop. He’d kept it. I couldn’t hold back the tears of sheer relief mixed with pride if I’d tried.

“It’s gorgeous,” I whispered wiping away the blurred vision with my fingertips. The black and white tiled floored was outlined with brick walls on two sides. Solid wood half walls partitioned off the stations. They appeared to be a deep shade, with the way they reflected the lights of the room.

“You think so?” Wes asked from the spot that I’d left him when I started to walk around the room. Each workstation was fashioned from wood and metal and each carried a masculine feel. The whole space felt like an old speakeasy, encompassing a hidden charming vibe like I’d just discovered one of the city’s best secrets.

“Wes, I’ve never seen anything like it. You did all this?” I turned in a slow circle, motioning to every inch of the space around me. Even the waiting area had what appeared to be a set of old smoking chairs and framed artwork that was recognizably Wes’ lined the walls in brass frames.

“Well, I did have contractors, but I designed it and spent a lot of time working on it with them.” A smile tugged at my lips when he said that. Wes was never the kind of guy to sit back and have someone else do the work.

“It’s unreal. I’d almost get a tattoo if it meant I’d get it here,” I joked with him.

“Manager’s special for you.” He grinned, giving me his dimples, and strode over to the stations. “See, in the shop now, we have tool boxes for all our stuff, but here I had them put in these old barn wood shelves, and this one had an extra spot for Rocco’s claw.”

“The guys are going to work here?” I asked surprised they’d leave Blue’s shop.

“Oh yeah, everybody. Blue decide to retire,” Wes exaggerated the word, “but really the old guy is gonna work part-time from now on, and sell the shop to put the cash toward medical plans for all the guys here.”

“Holy crap. You guys are amazing.” My heart swelled with pride for Wes and for all he’d accomplished through his hard work and the sheer goodness of his heart. I couldn’t stop scanning over every square inch of the beauty in the space.

“What’s over there?” I asked pointing to an arched doorway in one of the brick walls.

“Lemme show you,” he said holding his hand out to me and biting on his lip. I nodded and put my hand back into his, where it fit perfectly. He walked me into the smaller room next to the shop.

“Wait, is that?” I asked, but I didn’t know why. I knew exactly what I was looking at. We faced another brick wall that had a giant mural painted almost transparently on the surface. The mermaid and the marlin picture Wes had carried with him all these years. I mindlessly walked directly to the wall and traced my hands following the contours of the paint. “It’s perfect,” I whispered and felt Wes close in on me from behind.

“It’s even more perfect than you realize.” He breathed into my ear sending a warm shiver down my spine. “Look around, C,” he added and stepped away.

I turned around slowly and let my eyes take in the space. “Oh, my God.” My hand flew to my mouth and tears blurred my eyes again. “Wes.” The room was a gallery. Wood panels that looked just like the partitions in the shop speckled the concrete floor.

I walked to the first sketch. My lips. They were parted with my bottom lip glistening just enough to show a reflection of Wes. I reached my hands up and brushed my fingers across my lips.

I moved to the next wall holding a painting of my eyes. They were hiding behind my lowered lashes and made me sad for the girl I was just a few months ago. The next painting brought a smile to my tear stricken face. It was simply me standing on a blank canvas smiling in a pair of old jeans, a white tee, and my Chucks. I pointed and laughed out loud at a larger painting hanging on the back wall. A smaller version of the mural we had worked on, except he’d added our faces to two of the silhouettes.

I spun around, taking in at least a dozen pieces of art, and they were all of me. A tingling sensation pumping through my veins overcame me, and I rubbed my arms with my hands turning toward him.

Wes stood back by the mermaid and the marlin wringing his hands nervously in front of him. I could see his chest heaving quickly under his white tee, and his hair was mussed from where he must have been just running his hands through it. I walked up to him and didn’t stop until our bodies were only inches apart. I looked up into his panicked eyes. “You love me,” I whispered, and his eyes closed tightly.

When they opened, they glistened back at me and he nodded, “Yeah, baby.”

“Since when?” I asked unable to take my eyes off his.

“Since you showed me what love is.” He blinked and a single tear fell from his eye. I reached my hand up and swiped the tear with my thumb then held his face in my hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said into my hand with his eyes still closed.

“I believe you, Wes, but you hurt me. You tore me apart bit by bit, piece by piece, until I felt like nothing more than a smear. No edges, no lines, just a smudge of heartbreak.” I pulled my hand from his face, but he reached up and grabbed it with his own holding it to his face again.

“Can you forgive me?” He stared so intently into my eyes; I was captured by their sincerity. My mom’s words from earlier in the night rushed to the forefront of my mind. You forgive him regardless for yourself so you can move on to whatever direction your life goes whether it’s with him or not.

“I’m not letting you go.” He continued assuming my silence was hesitancy. “I’ve loved you my whole life, since I was a kid. I’ve stood up for you, I’ve looked up to you, and I’ve teased you all out of love. That’s all changed though because over the last few months I’ve fallen. Hard. I’ve fallen for you, Capri, and I am completely hard for you.”

My mouth fell open.

“Wait, that didn’t come out right.” He shook his head with his eyes cinched tight.

I laughed. Loudly.

“Shit.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit, that’s not how it was supposed to come out,” he said disappointed in himself. It was so cute that I tried to tame my laughing. I shook my head in understanding, trying to let him know that I knew what he was trying to say and that it was okay, but I couldn’t stop laughing. Then he kissed me. Hard. And I shut up.

“Can you stop now so I can tell you this right?” he asked, and I nodded devoid of words.

“Capri Hunter, I have fallen completely in love with you. I love you, C. Can you forgive me?” He squeezed my hand that was still in his.

“I forgive you, Wes,” I said knowing that this wasn’t forgiveness to move on without him, but forgiveness to move forward with him. “And I love you so much.” I stood on my toes and leaned up to his lips. He quickly caught me in his arms and lifted me the rest of the way, pulling my toes from the ground and sending his lips colliding with mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly and quite honestly, kissed the living crap out of him.

When our kiss slowed, he lowered me to the ground where I stumbled on my footing. He took my hand again and outstretched his arm presenting the gallery. “This is yours,” he said ignoring the way my jaw fell. “If you want it. I wanted to give you a piece of the dream you gave to me and make it a dream of yours.”

“This.” I pointed to the concrete floor below me and tried to wrap my head around what he was saying.

“This.” He laughed at my shock. “I want this gallery to be yours. You can display your art, you can host other artists, you can even have some of the kids you are working with at the youth center put some of their stuff up here. Whatever you want. It’s yours. If you want it.”

“I want it,” I said immediately, and then covered my mouth in a fit of giggles. “Oh, my gosh, my own gallery.” I couldn’t stop. Wes’ own throaty chuckle mixed with my laughter and I ran back into his arms. “Thank you. I love you so much,” I whispered into his neck.

“I love you too, baby, and I’ll make sure you know it for the rest of our lives.”

“You ready to get out of here?” he whispered, kissing down my neck.

“Mmm, just a few more minutes,” I mumbled staring off into the dark ocean with Wes’ arms wrapped tightly around me from behind. “Did you just whimper?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all night to get you out of this dress.” He pulled my earlobe with his teeth, and then covered it with his mouth.

“I thought,” I sighed enjoying Wes’ tongue against me, “I thought it was a pretty cute dress.” After Kensie found out about me being colorblind, she completely changed her wedding colors to all white. I insisted that she stick to her original plan, but she promised this was something she’d always wanted but never had the guts to do. I told her that I’d happily be her excuse.

“It’s so far from cute,” Wes mumbled into my neck while tugging me in close enough the feel the bulge in his pants press against me. “It’s the sexiest piece of clothing I’ve ever seen you wear and the bastard has been taunting me all night. I can’t wait to rip it off your body and show it who’s in charge here.”

I giggled and turned around in Wes’ arms wrapping my arms around his neck. “It was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?” I asked tickling my fingers through his hair and over the back of his neck.

“So pretty,” he groaned and licked my lips. I allowed him in, briefly sucking on his tongue before pulling away.

“The lantern was something,” I whispered looking up at him, and his eyes softened in the moonlight. He reached up and tucked a piece of my wavy hair behind my ear.

“It was,” he said and kissed me on the tip of my nose. Kensie and August got married on one of the cliffs at Sunset Cliffs. The ceremony was simple with only thirty people in attendance. We all stood together on the cliff as Kensie and August read each other their vows. With the ocean roaring behind them, it was impossible to hear what they’d said to one another, but the way they stood forehead to forehead eyes closed, and hands held tightly together, I was sure whatever words were spoken came from the deepest parts of their hearts.

After the ceremony, the party moved to one of the houses just above the cliffs where Kensie had a relaxed atmosphere set up with an open bar and small dance floor that all looked out over the water. She had changed out of her lace mermaid wedding gown and into a white cocktail dress so she could dance comfortably. Although, it looked difficult for her to get much dancing in with August glued to her side and attached to her lips.

As the night came to an end, she invited our family and closest friends out to the beach for a surprise. She had a special Chinese lantern made with recreations of Ella’s pictures, and we all stood together on the beach as we watched August send it up into the night sky. As the rest of the family made their way up to the house and to their cars, I’d asked Wes to take a walk with me down the beach. Not for any other reason than that I just wanted to enjoy the quiet with him for a little while before we left.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I said standing on my tiptoes to give him a hug, but he was quicker in his movement and squatted down to scoop me up. “Let me go.” I giggled as he carried me up the beach peppering my skin with kisses.

“Never.” He grunted and trudged up the sandy stairs with me then set me down on the top. “Never, C.” He held my face in his hands and looked at me.

“Good.” I smiled and kissed his lips but pulled away quickly when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. “What is that?” I asked pointing the monstrosity attached to the back of Wes’ car.

“A U-Haul.”

“I know that. Why do you have a U-Haul on your car?” I folded my arms across my chest.

“To carry all my stuff.” He patted me on the butt making me squeal and walked to his car.

“Why is all of your stuff in a U-Haul, Wes?” I trailed behind him stopping to slip on the sandals I‘d left at the top of the steps.

“’Cause I’m movin’ in with you,” he shouted over his shoulder at me and winked.

I stopped in my tracks and watched his perfectly shaped figure walking in a pair of khaki linen pants and white button-down shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up to expose his tattoos, matching his swagger to a T. Weston Monroe. Live-in boyfriend, and my hot ass soul mate.