If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse: A Dark Grumpy Sunshine Romance

Chapter 1

Briar — Present

I drag a finger to the man’s chest, smirking when I hear his breath hitching as I continue to caress his throat.

“Come on, James,” I purr, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lap. I whisper in his ear, “My bestie will pick me up soon, and I still need to get ready. Can you please give it to me so I can get going?”

James makes a strangled sound.

I lean back. “Oh! Shit, I’m so sorry. Duh,” I rip the duct tape covering his mouth. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

James wails, his face moving side to side in agitation. Probably from the pain of having tape ripped off his face or something; I can never be sure. Men are so sensitive.

“You fucking bitch!” He snarls, trying to wiggle off the chair.

Which is kind of dumb because I tied his hands together behind the chair, and his feet are tied to the legs of the chair. So yeah, if he keeps throwing a fit and wiggling like that, he’ll just fall to the ground with the chair on top of him.

I roll my eyes as I hop off him. “Excuse me. That’s rude. How am I the bitch when I’ve given you plenty of times to give me what I need?”

“I need more time!”

“Sorry, mister. Mr. Rogers gave me strict instructions. You owe him money, dude. Since a year ago. Seriously, why borrow money if you’re not going to pay him back? Stuuupid.”

James snarls, “You’re a crazy ass bitch!”

“If I were a man, you”d call me tough,” I frown and pull out my phone to check the time. “So, remember that wine we had at the restaurant? I added an extra flavor for you.”

James pales as he stops struggling. He stares at me with wide eyes.

I stare back before the realization hits me. “Oh! Ew, no. I didn’t spit in your wine. What the hell? I’m not that much of a savage. No, no. I added something that’ll make your heart slowly stop beating. It looks like you have minutes left, maybe an hour if we’re being generous.”

James starts yelling again, calling me colorful names and such.

“This date sucks,” I scoff. “But since you’re kinda cute, I will give you another chance.”

James pauses, waiting.

I rummage through my handbag and pull out a tiny bottle. “Give me the money, and I’ll give you this. It counteracts the poison, and you’ll be as good as new.”

James stares at the bottle for half a second before nodding furiously, “Okay! Okay!”

“Wait, seriously? That didn’t take long. What the hell, dude? You could have saved us all this time and just give me —”

“Take the money from my bank account, you bitch!” James rudely interrupts me.

“I’m starting to think you believe that’s my real name,” I grab his phone from his pocket and follow his hurried instructions.

“Hurry, I don’t feel good,” James complains.

I glance at him, noticing he’s getting paler and weaker by the minute. I sigh, watching the loading symbol on the screen.

“Sorry, the service here isn’t that great,” I mutter, lifting his phone up and down until I get another bar. “We wanna make sure it actually shows up in Mr. Rogers’s account, right?”

Frowning, I pull out my phone. “Oh, I guess it’s just your phone because I’m good. Oh, hold on, Nat just texted me.” I open a text message from my best friend, Natalie.

NAT:

-Send me a picture of what you’re wearing.

ME:

-I can’t, I’m still working.

NAT:

-Seriously?? Booooo!

ME:

-I knowww. Tell your dad I’m still working on it!

So, yeah. Mr. Rogers is the father of my best friend. Also, the man I consider my father since my real one died when I was ten years old in some fire.

His name is really Mr. Rogers. He’s not the friendly neighbor type, though. Mr. Rogers always tells me to call him by his first name, Drake, but I can”t get over how he”s literally called Mr. Rogers. So, I keep using that instead, much to his annoyance.

He took over the infamous group now known as the Charons after some complicated history with his uncle. I”m not entirely sure of the family details, but Mr. Rogers didn”t want to be part of the group initially. However, years later, he changed his mind and revamped the organization, including its members and name. So, is it even the same group anymore?

My best friend, Natalie— I call her Nat— is the daughter of Mr. Rogers, so she’s the princess and gets treated like one.

I”m part of this infamous group. I”m their adorable secret weapon. Insert winky face here. I was supposed to get some info from our target, James, here but I’m getting bored.

James starts crying, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Why does the sound of your crying grate on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard, James?” I inquire with a sigh.

He cries some more, muttering random shit here and there. Probably calling me a bitch again because that’s my name, apparently. I focus back on his phone and grin when the page refreshes.

I show him his phone and confirm that the payment was now on Mr. Rogers’s account. “It went through, James!”

I shove his phone back in his pocket and turn around to leave.

“Wait, wait! The poison!” James hysterically shouts.

I blink and show him the small bottle. “Oh, this? Yeah, no.”

“What the fuck! I gave your boss what he wanted! Let me go!”

I shake my head, “Yeah, but then Nat told me about your questionable tastes in women. Or… girls, I should say. What happened to that 13-year-old girl last seen with you on your private island?”

James is now full-on ugly crying. Like, snot and puke and shit.

“Ssshh!” I snap, calling Mr. Rogers.

He answers on the first ring. “Hey, little one.”

I scowl. He always calls Nat and me “Little ones.” Yes, I’m 5 foot 2. I’m not short. I’m fun-size, thank you very much.

“Hey, Mr. Rogers! Did you get the munnies?” I ask, shutting the door, and James continues screaming weakly behind me.

“I did, thank you, Briar. Has James been taken care of?”

“He’s slowly dying as we speak.”

“I’ll have someone pick up the trash for you.”

“Thank you! I have to get ready; Nat should be here soon.”

“Have fun, girls. Oh, I deposited your percentage to your account. Plus more. Please enjoy yourselves, and don’t get too drunk.”

I make a mocking, offended noise, “Are you talking about me or your daughter?”

“We practically raised you, Briar. You’re like my daughter, too.”

“Stop.” I sarcastically say. However, I can’t help but feel a warmth spread through me. “I’m so touched,” I add with sarcasm.

“You little brat.”

“This brat does your shit because you’re too old and—”

“Why, you little —” Beep.

“Nat’s here! Bye!”

*-*-*-*

I stare at my best friend and groan.

“When you said you were going to take me to some fancy shindig, I didn’t realize it’s an art gallery,” I grumble.

I look down at myself and try to straighten my black dress. It’s a simple dress that hugs my curves just right. There’s nothing wrong with the dress, I look fucking fantastic. But I would have looked drop-dead gorgeous if I had more time to fix myself and plan my outfit and make-up.

Thanks for wasting my time, James.

“I thought you love art,” Nat chirps, looping her arm with mine.

“I do,” I nod as we stand before a random canvas. “I just wish you had told me where we were going so I can mentally prepare myself!”

“Nerd,” She teases, pulling me to another display. “Besides, Oscar is here.”

I roll my eyes and smirk, “Oh, that’s why we’re here.”

She hushes me, her eyes skimming through the crowd, looking for him. I chuckle, knowing she’s been in love with the man since she reached puberty.

Despite the ten-year age gap, her heart has been set on Oscar for years.

My eyes caught on another canvas, and I couldn’t help but admire the work. I want it. Who do I need to talk to to get this canvas sent to my place, like now?

“Who’s the artist this week?” I ask Nat, leaning forward to study the strokes and swirls of an abstract painting.

“He’s new, and he works with Oscar. His name is Rurik Campbell.”

“Aww, how cute,” I murmur, “this is his debut, I guess?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Nat shrugs as she continues looking around. “Oh, by the window! There’s Oscar!”

I tear my gaze from the painting to focus on where Nat is pointing at. Sure enough, Oscar is standing next to someone in the corner in front of a window with a glass of wine in his hand, laughing at something the person was saying.

“Oscar!” Nat calls out.

Oscar and his friend look in our direction. I smirk at Oscar before letting my attention drift to his friend.

Oh.

Hello, stranger…

I swear my heart leaps out of my chest. While everyone, including me, is dressed in fancy outfits and fine clothing, his friend is casually dressed in black jeans, white sneakers, and a white fitted button-down shirt that shows off his broad shoulders. I bet if I run my hand down his chest, I can feel how hard those muscular pecs are.

Wait — What the fuck, girl? Calm down.

His friend glances at me with a curious expression on his handsome face. His gaze shifts to Nat and then back at me, his brows furrowing as we approach them. When we finally stand before them, I can”t help but notice the sunlight shining through the window, hitting him perfectly and making him look radiant and beautiful.

He looks so fucking angelic.

“Hey, you,” Nat says, hugging Oscar.

I hug him after, trying to focus on him instead of his friend.

“Hey, you two.” Oscar grins. “Are you guys enjoying the art show?”

“I love it,” I couldn’t help but gush. “I already have my eyes set on a few things. If I had the space, I would buy everything!”

“Oh, wow,” Oscar’s brows rose. He glances at his friend, “That’s high praise coming from you, Briar.”

I shrug, “I’m being serious. Where’s the artist? I want to congratulate them.”

Oscar shoves his friend at me. “Briar, meet the artist, Rurik Campbell. Rurik, meet one of my good friends, Briar Reyes.”

I stare at the human masterpiece before me.

Dark, wavy hair falling in loose waves frames his face, contrasting with the brightest blue eyes I”ve ever seen. His perfectly straight nose complements a set of luscious pink lips and a sharp jawline begging to be licked.

Shit.

I thought love at first sight didn’t exist.

I shove my hand toward him and gave him a smile I know most men go crazy for. “It”s nice to meet you, Rurik. I love your work.”

Usually, when someone has their hand out, they expect the person to shake it as a greeting or whatever, right? Right.

Rurik decides that it is too mainstream because he stares at my hand as if I’m holding a pile of manure and glares at me with disgust.

He mutters something to Oscar and walks away, leaving me hanging.

Huh. Angel’s got some spice to him.

No worries. I enjoy a little kick in my meals.

“Uh,” I awkwardly drop my hand and tilt my head in confusion at my friends. “Do I stink or something? I swear I put deodorant on.”

“Someone needs to tell Rurik it’s rude to be an asshole to his guests,” Nat scoffs as we all stare after Rurik.

“You’re fine, Briar.” Oscar shoots me an apologetic look. “He”s not an asshole, I don”t know what just happened. Let me go talk to him.”

“No, I”ll do it.”

Before Nat or Oscar can stop me, I walk to the bar and order a drink. A few minutes later, I lean back against the counter and sip my wine, watching Rurik chat with some strangers here and there.

I”m pretty sure he can feel my gaze burning into the back of his neck because he keeps rubbing it, glancing behind him until our eyes clash.

I lift my half-empty wine glass with a wink.

I swear, his cheeks turn a bit pink before he walks away from my line of sight.

Don’t fly away yet, angel.

I finish the remaining wine in one big gulp before thanking the bartender and leaving the glass on the counter. I skim through the crowd until I find his gorgeous self on the side, talking to some old lady standing in front of another one of his paintings.

I approach them, grabbing a couple of champagne glasses from one of the serving trays.

”What inspired this landscape, Rurik? It”s so beautiful,” I hear the lady coo, her hand playfully touching his elbow.

Would people notice if I break my glass so I can stab her hand to get her off him?

Woah. Calm down, girl.

Rurik smiles bashfully, completely ignoring that I am now standing across from him.

So damn cute.

He shoves his hands in his pockets, a hue of pink coloring those adorable cheeks. “Actually, this is a view of somewhere I used to go to a few years ago.”

Oh, his voice is incredibly smooth and deep, like velvet. I just want to take his voice and turn it into a blanket so I can wrap myself in it, feeling warm and comfortable as I snuggle on the couch.

And wait, is that a hint of a Scottish accent I hear?

Fuck me. I’m a sucker for accents.

Rurik continues, “I called it my little slice of paradise because it’s where I went when I wanted to be alone. Nobody knew about it.”

I reluctantly tore my gaze from him so I could look at the painting.

Immediately, I’m transported to a place of calm and serenity. I feel like I can deeply breathe in the open, tranquil lake while its shimmering surface reflects the blue, cloudless sky above. A dense spread of green trees stood tall and proud on the other side of the lake, framing the scene perfectly. It”s a simple view, but Rurik”s talent is so amazing that I could get lost just by staring at the canvas.

“Thank you for sharing your little slice of paradise with us through this painting, Rurik,” I say, focusing on him again.

Rurik glances at me briefly before clearing his throat and shrugging, “It’s no big deal. Anyone can visit that place. I haven’t been in years, though.”

The lady beams, “You’re so talented, Rurik! Your girlfriend must be so proud of you.”

I raise a brow, slowly turning my head to stare at the lady”s audacity.

Is she trying to figure out if he has a girlfriend or —

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Rurik chuckles, the sound spreading tingles of something throughout me.

Wait, what did he just say?

My head whirled back to him, my eyes wide.

He doesn’t have a girlfriend.

Not yet.

I clear my throat and offer him a glass of champagne. “A gift for you. I figured you could use a little pick-me-up since you’re busy talking to everyone.”

Is he going to be a dick again and reject a glass of bougie bubbly?

Rurik looks like he wants to walk away again, but thankfully, he doesn”t. He gives me a brief nod before reaching for the glass, our fingers brushing against each other.

I swear I felt sparks.

Yup, it’s official.

We’re going to be together forever.

Rurik turns red again as he takes a small sip. “Thanks,” he murmurs, his hand gripping the glass so tight that I was afraid it would break.

I grin at him. “Am I making you nervous?”

“What? No. I don’t know you.”

I thrust my hand out again, the same hand I offered earlier. The one he left hanging.

Rurik inhales deeply before finally wrapping his hand around mine.

Jesus, his hand is so smooth. I want to rub my cheek against it. Is that weird?

“My name is Briar Reyes.” I grin again and give his hand a firm shake.

He tries to pull away, and I briefly debate whether I should fuck with him by kissing the back of his hand.

“Pleasure,” Rurik mutters under his breath.

“It can be if you let me.” I chirp, loving how his face turned red again.

Fuck, he blushes easily, doesn’t he?

He’s so cute.

A nasal voice interrupts us, “You know, Rurik. I have a niece who is about your age and also very much into art. I can give you her number, and you two can chat —”

“Lady, you’re still here?” I interrupt back, my patience waning with this woman.

Her jaw drops as she stared at me. She closes her mouth and opens it again as if trying to say something, but her voice fails to deliver.

Rurik glares at me before smiling at the lady again. “That’s kind of you. If she’s looking to network, she can speak to my friend, Oscar, and go from there.”

Before she can say anything else, Rurik says a hasty goodbye and walks away. Well, he tries to, but I follow him.

“So, how come you don’t have a girlfriend?” I ask, walking beside him.

His head whips around, his eyes widening in surprise. “I’m sorry. How is that any of your business?” Rurik asks, his voice straining. “I don’t know you.”

“Of course you do. We literally just introduced ourselves,” And I”m going to be the love of your life. But I can”t say that shit, unfortunately. I have a feeling it’ll freak him out. So I say instead, “But if you forgot, I’ll reintroduce myself again. Maybe the third time”s the charm. Hi, I’m Briar Reyes. You’re Rurik Campbell.”

Rurik stops walking and turns to me, not saying anything other than sighing heavily.

I feel my lips twitch. “I like your accent.”

“Thanks,” He says flatly. “Leave me alone.”

He turns to walk away from me.

“You sound like the characters from Outlander. You know, the TV show? It’s kinda hot.” I grin, keeping up with him. “Will you sing me a song of a lass that is gone?”

“What the fuck?” Rurik makes an exasperated sound. “Jesus, you’re like a mosquito that won’t leave me alone.”

“Thank you, angel.”

“That wasn’t a compliment, and that’s not my name.”

“But you look like one.”

He mutters something, and I can’t help but grin. I don”t know why, but I find his assholeness kind of adorable.

“Want to grab a drink?” I ask, halting him with a hand on his wrist.

He glares at my hand and snaps, “What?”

I blink. “A drink? Do you want to grab a drink after this?” I look at his glass, still filled with champagne. Oh wait, what if he doesn’t drink? “Fuck. Do you not drink? Did I just peer pressure you to drink alcohol?”

“Get your hands off of me.” He growls, trying to shake my hold from his wrist.

“But I don’t want to. Your skin is so warm and smooth, Rurik. It’s like a baby’s bottom—if that’s not too weird of a comparison.”

Rurik snarls and forcefully shoves my hand away. He throws me another look and walks away.

Again.

So I follow him again.

“You keep walking away from me. But that’s okay, I like the view. I’ve never seen a man’s ass looking so squeezable as yours.”

Rurik stops abruptly and whirls around to face me. He stares at me like he”s never seen a fantastic woman, a.k.a. me, in his life. “Are you stupid or something?”

“Struck stupid by how overwhelmingly charming you are,” I chuckle. “Can I take you out, angel?”

Rurik stares at me as if I had grown another set of heads.

“What? N-No,” He sputters. His neck and the tip of his ears turn bright pink. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested.” He swallows his throat, making his Adam’s apple go up and down.

I grin, “How do you know if you haven’t given us a chance?”

I earn a dirty look, to which I return with another sweet smile.

“I don’t need to.”

“Why not?” I ask again.

“I don’t go out with bloodthirsty murderers like yourself.”

I freeze. Now, what the fuck does he mean by that?

I like to boast about how easily I can control my inner emotions. I could be shaking with fury inside, but appear like I’m having the time of my life outside. So imagine my surprise when a wave of sharp rage washes over me, making my fingers physically itch to grab the small dagger I have hidden under my dress.

What? Yes, I have a dagger hidden away. I have multiple daggers in my collection. They’re sometimes pink, sparkly, and floral. They’re beautiful.

Sometimes, when working, I pretend I’m the main character in a fantasy world. Guns are fast and efficient, but when the target is right before me, they look so pretty with my pink-decorated dagger protruding from their chest.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” I ask, my tone quiet so only he can hear me.

Rurik lifts his chin like he’s tough shit. “You heard me.”

I blink, my gaze lingering as I size him up. Our eyes lock, and a slow smile creeps across my face before I lick my lips. “Are you flirting with me?”

Rurik’s face drops before he makes a disgusted sound. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to be seen associated with the likes of you.”

Before I could respond, he walks away again. This time, I let him.

What the fuck is his problem? And what the hell does he mean by “the likes of me”?

I feel soft fingers wrap around mine.

I sigh and turn to my best friend. “What the hell just happened?”

Nat groans, “It’s my fault. I should have told you who Rurik is.”

“Okay? And who the hell is he?”

“He’s the senator’s stepson,” Nat murmurs, tucking a hair behind her ear as she smiles at the people around us.

“Senator. Which one?”

“Greene.”

I stiffen at the name. “Senator… Greene?”

Nat says something, but I can”t focus on her because I”m staring at Rurik Campbell”s back again.

Sure, Greene is a common last name here. His stepdad could be any of those Greenes. But I know only one Greene who became a Senator after working as a family chef.