26. Arden
26
ARDEN
The drive into town was quick, but I didn’t miss the occasional scowl Linc sent poor Brutus, who sat between us on the bench seat. I tried to stifle a laugh but couldn’t quite get there.
“It’s not funny,” Linc muttered. “If you’re taking me somewhere in public, I’ll probably be arrested for walking around with a hard-on.”
This time, my laugh wasn’t stifled at all. “Sorry about that.”
“You’re not sorry at all,” he shot back.
“No, I’m not.”
“Vicious,” he muttered.
I glanced over at him. “Would you wish away that kiss not to have blue balls in this moment?”
Linc’s eyes flashed that brighter green. “Wouldn’t wish away a single second with you, even if it meant agreeing to a lifetime of torture.”
“Good.”
“Blue balls, it is,” Linc muttered.
Brutus turned and licked his cheek.
Linc chuckled. “A little solidarity. Finally. ”
“I don’t know about that. Brutus hasn’t had balls for a long time.”
Linc covered the dog’s ears. “Don’t remind him. That’s just cruel.”
I laughed as I pulled into an empty spot a little bit down from The Collective. “Come on.” I hooked Brutus’s leash to his collar, and he looked up at me balefully.
“And now you add insult to injury,” Linc said, shaking his head. “I’d never do this to you, B.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then you’d get a ticket from Trace.”
“I can afford it.”
“Billionaires,” I muttered, shutting the door behind me and Brutus.
As I started toward The Collective with Linc at my side, he peered down at me, confusion in his gaze. “I’ve already been to The Collective.”
“Yes. But you haven’t been to one of our art camps. They’re my favorite.”
The confusion melted into something else, and whatever the emotion was, there was a tenderness to it. “Thanks for letting me into your world, Vicious.”
“You’re welcome, Cowboy.”
Brutus wagged his tail as we walked up the path to The Collective. There was a table set up in the gallery space, where I knew parents would check their kids in for the day. Behind it stood Farah with a shit-eating grin.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in. A reclusive artist and the man who looks like he needs to be climbed like a tree.”
I choked on a laugh. “Farah.”
She held up both hands. “I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. Can’t be helped.”
“Well, try to refrain from any tree climbing, would you?”
Farah waggled her eyebrows. “I can’t make any promises.”
“I swear, between you and Lolli, it’s a miracle I don’t have gray hair,” I muttered.
Linc dipped his head to kiss my temple. “You’d look cute rockin’ the grays. ”
“Oh, Jesus,” Farah mumbled and started fanning herself. “Get outta my sight before I combust.”
I laughed and led Linc down the hall. I pointed out the different studio and storage spaces as we went. We saw works in progress from Hannah, Isaiah, and Farah. And it looked like Hannah’s watercolor that she’d been struggling with had found its stride.
The Collective’s building formed a U shape with the gallery on one side and the storage and studio spaces in the other two. But what lay in the middle was my favorite part.
I slowed before a set of French doors, the sounds of voices and laughter on the other side filtering around me. I glanced up at Linc. “Welcome to one of my favorite places.”
Opening the doors, I gestured for Linc to pass through. I tried to take it in through his eyes. The courtyard had a magical feel to it, as if it were a land that could be home to fairies. Fig trees were scattered around, their branches wrapped in lights. And the entire space was oriented with the best views of the mountains.
But there currently wasn’t a whole lot of peace to be found in the space. A little girl screeched as she leapt over one of the planters teeming with flowers. A little boy held up a paintbrush like he was about to duel with someone. Half a dozen miniature tables covered in art supplies had been set up.
“Who knew this was hidden away back here?” Linc said, taking it all in.
“We can open some doors in the gallery for events. It makes for a nice spot for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And are you one for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres?”
I made a face. Stuffy parties were not my thing. “Sacrifices must be made for a good cause.”
Linc’s gaze roamed over my face, taking me in. The movement felt like his fingertips were grazing the skin, making every nerve ending stand at attention. “Let me guess. Never for personal gain but always willing to fall on your sword for the kids.”
One of said kids let out a battle cry as if to punctuate Linc’s point .
The corner of my mouth kicked up, and I shrugged. “They’re worth it.”
“They are. But there’s more.”
Of course, Linc would see that there was a deeper motivation for me, a clawing need to give to others what had been given to me. “I didn’t talk when I came to live with the Colsons.”
Pain streaked across Linc’s expression. I tried not to let it land—the fact that he cared so deeply about my agony—and pushed on. “I was scared all the time. So sure those men would find me again. Kill me this time.”
“Arden,” Linc rasped.
“But things changed. It was gradual and a multi-person effort, but it all started with paint and Lolli.”
A little of the sadness and pain lifted from Linc’s eyes. “I hope she wasn’t doing dick art with you when you were twelve.”
I choked on a laugh. “No. She was in her oils and landscape phase then and would set up two easels for us in the backyard every day. She’d talk some but never expected me to answer. She taught me the basics and told me to let out whatever I needed to.”
A muscle fluttered along Linc’s jaw. “It’s how you started letting out the darkness.”
I nodded. “There were other things, too. Nora taught me about horses, and I discovered their healing powers. When Kye came to live with us, he taught me how to protect myself and feel strong. And slowly but surely, I found my way through. It wasn’t back to the girl I’d been because she was gone, but I’d become someone better. Someone more real.”
Linc moved in then, crowding me. His fingers slid into my hair and tipped my head back. “So fucking strong.”
“Because others helped me find that strength, the healing. I want to make sure I give that outlet to anyone who needs it.”
“You’re killing me, Vicious.” Linc’s head dipped, his lips brushing mine with a featherlight touch.
Then, a tiny but very angry voice broke into my Linc-haze. “ Why are you kissing my girlfriend, mister?”