15. Jensen
FIFTEEN
JENSEN
“If you don’t have this place set back up by tomorrow, your ass is fried.” My friend Tom Cadell held the keys away from me.
“You don’t need to worry. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“This is my day off, you know.”
“I know, I appreciate it, man.”
“You can get any chick to pose for you, can’t you?”
My hands fisted at my sides. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure, it’s not.” Tom tossed me the keys. I snatched them out of the air. “Relax. I would, if I looked like you. All day, every day.”
I sighed. I wasn’t opposed to something happening with Lyric tonight, so I couldn’t be mad. It was the idea she was just some girl I wanted to bang.
Oh, you don’t?
As my truck was full of things to make up this space. It wasn’t as if I could bring her back to my studio apartment. Oh, would you like to look at my nightmare walls? Would you like me to hand you a trigger into a panic attack?
Hell.
I’d actually almost covered it all with white paint last night. I’d even stopped at the hardware store and bought it, but I couldn’t. Not because I was precious with my art—I was absolutely not. Being a muralist meant things were erased as fast as they were put up sometimes.
But I couldn’t bring her there. And a hotel was presumptuous as fuck.
No, I’d bring her here—where I’d begun.
Tom folded his arms across his chest. “You haven’t been around, anyway.”
“I know.” I pocketed the keys. “The academy kicked my ass.”
He whistled. “You really did it?”
I nodded. “Took two tries, but yeah, this time, it stuck.”
“Damn, son.”
“Yeah. I’m almost done. Passed my written with a 97.8 today.”
Tom pushed his dreads out of his face. “So, I’m actually going to see you in a uniform one of these days?”
“Hopefully not. Only way you should is if the studio was on fire. Speaking of you should probably replace that busted smoke detector I saw over the doorway. Way too much turpentine and other solvents in here.”
Tom chuckled. “Who are you?”
I flushed. There was no doubt I’d been more careful since seeing just how easily Trick or Treat had been destroyed. “These old buildings can go up in a second. Believe me.”
Tom’s face lost its humor. “Jesus, I’m such an asshole. Sorry.”
“It’s cool. Just get one, will you?”
“Yeah. I bought one, just need to put it up and I keep forgetting. Code enforcement came through when I had to update the insurance when I bought out Franny.”
“I can’t believe this place is yours.” I looked around at the high ceilings with the wall of windows that let in perfect natural light. I’d spent hours in here when I first moved to Crescent Cove. Tom made space for all kinds of art, including the larger canvases and slabs of wood I preferred.
In the corner was a screen-printing set-up for T-shirts, which was Tom’s medium. He’d made a killing on social media making band shirts and custom stencils for logos. Enough that he’d bought this spot and changed it into an artist's space.
He even had a pottery room that made most of his rent.
It had been my sanity when I’d first gotten here.
And I wanted to share it with Lyric.
The studio was closed for one day a week which was why I was going to set this up to hopefully make her feel special.
“All right, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Sure. Don’t be such a stranger.”
I glanced around at the familiar shabbiness. “I do miss it. Your cleaning lady quit again, didn’t she?”
Tom hung his head. “Yeah, no one wants to clean up after these animals.” He gave me a snappy salute. “Have fun.”
“Will do.”
I had a few hours to get this place set up. And I was going to need it by the looks of things.
I cleared out the sawhorses that were in a circle around a still life set-up that changed all the time. Carefully, I stacked the horses around it and created a big space on the floor. Since it was a co-op space, I knew where the cleaning supplies were and gave the floor a much-needed sweep and mop.
Then I went to my truck for the rest of the stuff I’d stolen from my gram’s house as well as my own stash.
I put on my music and had it all set up in less than an hour. Including the white twinkle lights I’d found in a bargain holiday bin.
I spent the rest of the time doing a quick and dirty version of the soap lady’s logo. I’d done a simple line drawing of lavender and honey that she used in most of her lotions and potions. I added a few bees since she actually kept them and harvested her own honey.
As an artist, I appreciated any and all versions of art. I’d even ordered her organic shave cream to get a closer look at her logo and packaging. My phone went off at quarter to five, dragging me out of the moment. I probably should have given myself more time to get ready to go, since now I had chalk paint smeared across my shirt and jeans.
“Son of a bitch.” I hurried over to my bag and swapped my shirt for a forest green thermal. My jeans were a lost cause, and hopefully, she wouldn’t notice.
I checked my phone for the food order I’d put in for pickup and sprinted out the door. I locked up after myself and hopped in my truck. Trick or Treat was only five minutes away from the studio.
I walked through the doors of the candy shop at three minutes after five. Since the shop closed at six during the week, there were only a handful of people inside. The lights in A Place for All were dimmed, showing off the rapidly darkening windows.
The days were getting longer, but winter was still in full effect. Especially this week, rain and snow were playing hot potato. Today was one of the colder days. I took a right as soon as I went through the doors to the office space Lyric called hers.
Soft music played when I walked through the doors to the communal space. I heard Lyric’s voice and another woman as I paused outside her section of the room.
A blond hopped off the desk. She was petite and looked like she ran on coffee and adrenaline. I could practically hear her vibrating internally from where I was. “Can I help you?”
Lyric stood up. “Hi.”
The blond looked from me to Lyric. “Interesting.”
“Hush,” she murmured to the woman. “Jensen Turner meet Tatum Masterson.”
“Oh, this is the artist?” Her gaze tracked over me—thoroughly. So much that I was tempted to take a step back.
“Yes. Jensen will be helping us with the booths. He specializes in murals.”
“We have a few people signed up, but we’re not really ready for specifics quite yet.”
“I know. I work quick, but I also used to work here back in the day.” I gave her an easy smile. “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re the marketing genius.”
“Oh, I like him already. Genius?” She gave Lyric a cheeky smile.
“You know you’re a genius. Our profits are already up ten percent, and we’re only in January.”
Tatum grinned. “You gave me good product. I’ll let you guys talk.” She gave Lyric a long look before she left with a glance at me over her shoulder.
“Sorry about that. Tatum doesn’t mean any harm.”
“She seems very high energy.”
“Pretty sure coffee runs through her veins.” Lyric grabbed her bag and shrugged into her coat.
“No Sheba today?”
“No, I left her with her Aunt CJ today.” She hooked her messenger bag over her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
I glanced down at her jet-black jeans and leather boots that went up to her knees. Then up to the heather grey sweater that looked soft as a cloud. Her curls were tamed into a loose braid that hung over her shoulder, the tail teasing the vee of her sweater.
“You look perfect.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Does your sister expect you at any particular time?”
“No.”
“Good.” I held out my hand to her. “Ready?”
She flexed her hand once then she put it in mine. I drew her out of the room, and she called out a good night to Tatum.
She appeared at the doorway of what was probably her office. She glanced down at our linked fingers with a wide smile. “Have fun, you two.”
Lyric rolled her eyes, but she didn’t try to take her hand back and I counted that as a win.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. I ordered take away.”
“Okay. No details?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll put myself into your capable hands.” She closed the distance between us and went onto her toes to brush her lips over my cheek.
I twined our fingers together and brought her wrist up to my mouth. I scraped my teeth over the fragile skin. Her golden eyes warmed. We walked outside quietly.
I drew her past her Jeep to my truck and held open the passenger door for her. Before she could step up on the footrail, I lifted her up and placed her gently on the seat.
Her hands went to my shoulders with a gasp. Which gave me the perfect opportunity to lean in and taste her. Lips cool and unpainted, I licked my way between them and delved deep. I’d been thinking about her nonstop since the night before.
She dug her fingers into my shoulders and kissed me back with equal heat. Enough that when I pulled back, her eyes were soft and dreamy.
I gripped the door so I wouldn’t go back to kissing her. There would be enough time for that.
“Swing your legs in.”
She did and automatically stowed her bag at her feet and pulled the seatbelt across her chest.
Because I couldn’t stop myself, I buried my face in her neck for a moment and dragged in her scent. The pears were sharper today, minus the spicier aspects that I’d noted yesterday. “You smell delicious.”
“Um, thanks.” She lifted her shoulder as I dragged my beard across her skin and tickled her. I grinned then I stepped back to shut the door.
Thankful for the cold, I took a minute to get myself under control before I climbed into the other side. “How do you feel about Chinese food?”
“Very warmly.”
I laughed. “I got a bunch of stuff, so hopefully, you’ll like some of it.”
“Most of it, I’ll bet.”
“I love that you don’t act like you never put a calorie into your body.”
“El Ray’s should have disabused you of that notion.”
“It did. And hot as fuck.”
She laughed. “You’re so odd.”
“You should probably get used to that now.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. And you like it.”
She faced the windshield with a smile. “Maybe.”
The drive to the Asian restaurant was a quick one. I hopped out, grabbed the two bags, and rushed back to the truck.
She groaned at the scents of shrimp, pork, and beef. “Hope we don’t have far to go.”
I laughed. “Nope. The nice thing about the Cove is everything is close.” I pulled out of the cramped parking lot and headed back to the studio.
“Still not telling me where we’re going?”
“Nope.” I reached into one of the bags and pulled out a water, handing it to her.
“Thanks.” She cracked it and took a sip. “How was work?”
“Busy, but it was really good in the end. How about you?”
She turned toward me, tucking her back against the door. “Really good. We signed four more people to the soft launch. So, I actually will have some details for you soon. I just have to see what kind of things they’d want to show off their wares.”
“Like what?”
“A pottery company, another jeweler—but much different than Hadley. More of a male flavor in heavy silver. His stuff is amazing. Also, a quilter and Sugar Rush is coming in with their limited ingredient pet treats.”
Immediately, I pictured Sugar Rush’s logo and style. I was pretty sure the owner’s sister was an illustrator, as well. More digital than my kind of work.
“Sounds amazing.”
“Yeah, we’re half full now. Tatum has been rocking the community aspect. I knew she would. Her family is huge around here, and it seems like they know everyone.”
“Don’t discount what you’re doing.”
She grinned over at me in the dark. “I appreciate it, but I know my limitations. Tatum wrangles them, then I lock them down—we make a good team.”
“You seem excited about it. It’s nice to see.”
“Thanks. I really am. I used to run a gallery in San Francisco. This is exactly the kind of curation I always wanted to do.”
“Wait. Gallery?”
“Yeah. The gallery was getting sold to a huge conglomerate, and I was looking for something new. We used to show Nolan’s work.”
“Well, shit. You moved here from California?” I realized I knew so little about Lyric.
“I did. I wanted a change and while I didn’t really think running a candy shop was going to give me such purpose, I was willing to try it at the very least. My parents are never in one place for very long, so there wasn’t much keeping me in San Fran.”
I pulled off into the parking lot for the studio. It was in the old warehouse area, close to Trick or Treat. Since it was well toward six, it was pitch black.
She looked around. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
She sat up straighter, but there was very little lighting over here. I took a right and drove around the building. It had been an old machine factory back in the nineties. Before such things had been outsourced to places like Mexico and China.
“This was my home away from home when I first moved here.” This side of the building was ancient brick that had been whitewashed. It was too dark to see the mural I’d helped to paint in the dim lights. I slid out of my side and went around to Lyric’s.
“You’re not going to tie me to a radiator or something, right?”
I laughed. “There will be no tying of wrists. Unless you’re into that kind of thing.”
The overhead light burnished her dark curls and only highlighted her cheekbones. She was so damn pretty. The sharp blade of her nose and bow of her mouth made me want to get my pencils out. But it was her eyes that always hit me the hardest. The gold reminded me of treasure.
Another reason the dragon had become so much a part of how I thought of her.
“Pretty sure that’s not my kink,” she said, handing me the bags.
I laughed. “I’m very invested in finding out what your kinks are.”
“Me too.” She pushed me back and slid out of the truck and slammed the door. “Assuming my body isn’t found in a ditch tomorrow.”
“Definitely no ditches.” I herded her toward the door.
Though I was a little nervous to let her see the real me.