Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Scarlett
W e pull up to a darkened building and I can’t help but state what I’m thinking. “I didn’t figure you for one to leave your little town of Greendale Valley very much for the city.”
“I don’t. But I have friends, in high and low places,” he answers.
“Good to know.” I hop out of the truck, still on bare feet, with my dress still damp from the lake photo shoot.
“I hope I didn’t ruin your truck seat with my wet dress,” I tell him.
He has the pizza we picked up on the way, and one beer and a soda in hand as he makes his way over to the door of this quaint studio in the middle of a bustling area outside of Nashville. The Notebook is on the sign. He punches in a code and the door opens.
“You won’t hurt my truck, little sunshine. It’s seen worse than a wet dress.”
The thought makes me slightly jealous, thinking he means from other women, which is a ridiculous thought to have. I have no claim on this man.
We walk inside and he starts flipping on lights. I glance around the studio, and he wasn’t kidding. It’s a recording studio. “We can’t mess this place up with yellow paint, Zander.”
He points to a small kitchen area, and I go in. He sets the food and his drinks down. “I figured we’d eat first since you’re probably starving, then we can use the paint and finish your trash-the-dress photo shoot. Don’t worry, they’re renovating the studio and there’s an empty room in back they haven’t touched yet. Plus, I have a painter’s drop cloth to cover where you’ll be.” He winks and says, “I got this covered. Start eating and I’ll grab the cupcakes and your wine.”
He walks out and I pull a slice of pepperoni pizza from the box. Within a few minutes he’s back. We eat in near silence, only making small talk before he grabs his painter’s drop cloth and the yellow gallon of paint and a paintbrush. “Bring the cupcakes and wine,” he tells me.
I grab them and follow his footsteps. I notice how well the white button-up shirt he wore today stretches across his broad back and how well his dark jeans hug his hips. He stops abruptly and flips on a light switch.
I bump into him and he turns. “You okay back there?”
“Yep, sorry. Wasn’t looking,” I clip in response.
“You’re fine. Here it is,” he says as he gestures toward the small room in front of us.
It has dark gray walls with no windows, and it’s empty. He sets the paint can down and then lays the cloth on the dark floor. It already has some yellow paint on it. A few other colors too. When he sees me looking at the cloth, he says, “I paint a little in my spare time,” and then shrugs his shoulders.
“I see. If you paint anywhere near as good as the pictures you take, I’m sure it’s amazing.” He takes the wine and cupcakes and sets them away from where the paint will touch them.
Then, he grabs the paintbrush he had and approaches me with his camera already hanging on a strap from his neck. He stops in front of me and holds my stare with his own. “Are you sure you want to take it this far?”
“I am. What do I need to do?”
He opens the paint can and dips the brush in before swirling it just a bit. When he stands back up, he faces me. “Hold out your hands.”
I do as he says, and he paints my palms yellow.
He backs away, brings his camera up, and then readies it. “Now use the paint however you want.” He starts clicking away even though I haven’t moved yet. I finally run my hands down my sides to show how much I want out of a dress that should’ve never been mine. Once the paint is almost gone from my hands, I pick up the brush and hold it in the front, allowing the paint to drip and splatter down from the neckline to the bottom.
I’m unsure what to do next when I finally drop the brush and stare at the paint. Zander pulls his camera away from his face to see what I’m doing. I bend down and dip both hands in the paint. I hold them both out in front of me before pressing them to my chest—right where my heart is—and as I do, I fold in on myself, slowly lowering to the cloth on my knees while gripping my chest. Before I realize it’s happening, Zander is in front of me almost as if he expected this part…these tears.
“I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s ridiculous to cry over a man who has done what he’s done.” I sniffle and keep my head down, refusing to meet his gaze. But he has other plans.
He gently grabs my chin and tips it up to make me see him. “It’s not ridiculous to have feelings, Scarlett. It’s okay to admit that he broke your heart, and it’s okay to let yourself feel it,” he says and then he wipes my tears with his thumbs. “Maybe you’ll be strong enough to keep it from hardening your heart as you heal from it, because you deserve a lifetime filled with love and happiness.”
I start to cry and actually let it out…to allow my tears to wipe the slate clean. He’s right, I need to feel this. I need to feel everything so I can let it go and move on. He pulls me close to him. He doesn’t have to comfort me, but he does. I fist his shirt in my hands as he rubs my bare back.
When I feel all cried out, I pull back and notice the yellow paint on his once white dress shirt. “Oh...I’m sorry. It looks like your shirt got caught in the crossfire.”
He drops his gaze to see the yellow paint and lets out a light chuckle. “I’m not worried about my shirt.” He stands and reaches for my hand to help me up too. Then he unbuttons it before shrugging out of the ruined shirt. He hands it to me, and I stare at it.
“Use it to wipe the rest of the paint off your hands,” he says. “I’m going to grab your cupcakes and wine for you.”
I notice a tattoo on his side as he turns. I can see a camera with words around it, but I can’t make them out. He returns a moment later with two bottles of water, and grabs my wine, and the cupcakes from where he placed them moments earlier.
“I’ll take a water with my cupcake for now.” I feel parched suddenly as I watch his muscles flex while he moves. He hands it to me after setting the wine bottle by the wall, and then opens the box of cupcakes and offers me one. I choose one of the vanilla and buttercream cakes and bring it to my lips.
“Thanks. These cupcakes melt in your mouth. The wedding cake would’ve been good too,” I tell him as I take a bite.
He laughs as he watches me eat it. “You’re really going to let me eat cupcakes alone on the night I found out I’d been cheated on for months all because I wanted to wait to have sex until our wedding night?”
His face grows serious as little creases form between his brows. “He cheated because you wanted to wait?”
“Essentially. It’s not like we’d never had sex before, but in my foolish mind, I thought if we waited for a while before our wedding, it would make our honeymoon more special—almost like the first time again with all the anticipation. Turns out I was wrong. Men apparently need sex more than they need love it would seem…at least in Eric’s case,” I blurt out flatly.
Zander takes a cupcake out of the box and sets it on the floor beside the wine before returning to stand in front of me. “Not all men are like that, Scarlett. A man who truly loves you would honor and respect you. He would wait forever just to hold your hand or kiss your lips.”
He glances at my lips and reaches out to wipe the icing off that I’m obviously wearing. Heat rushes to my cheeks as his gaze stays there a few seconds longer than necessary. Some type of warning is going off in my head, but I don’t care.
“Kiss me,” I blurt out.
He doesn’t move his hand from my chin. “That’s not a good idea, Scarlett.”
I pluck the cupcake from his other hand and set it down by the wall on top of the box, then turn back to face him. “I guarantee kissing you isn’t a good idea, but I don’t want to feel rejected again. I want to feel beautiful and loved…and wanted.”
Zander stares at me intently, his eyes fixed on my mouth. “You’re not beautiful, you’re gorgeous. And any man who would be dumb enough to reject you is out of his mind. I consider myself to be a smart man.”
He reaches for me and slowly allows his hands to land on my hips before pulling me close. “This isn’t a good idea, Scarlett,” he adds again as he lowers his lips to mine, gently at first, but then he deepens the kiss. And this kiss…it steals the very breath from my lungs as his tongue guides mine. He tastes as good as he smells. When we eventually come up for air, I see a hunger in his eyes for more. His pupils are huge, and his breathing is rapid.
“I should take you back to your car before this gets out of hand. I don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability right now. Besides that, I have nothing to offer you. You deserve so much better than my heart could ever give you,” he says gruffly.
“You’re probably right. But I think since we both understand each other, there’s no harm in understanding one another a little more.”
He hesitates briefly and then kisses my lips again before trailing more kisses down my neck, and he immediately finds my sweet spot. Chills break out across my skin and heat shoots to my core. I run my fingers through his hair as he pulls an involuntary moan from my lips. It’s been so long since I was touched this way and I feel myself melting.
His fingers tug on my zipper and excitement fills my veins. He trails his tongue from my collarbone back up to my ear while holding my head to the side giving him perfect access to my neck. He finally whispers in my ear, “Tell me what you want, Scarlett.”
“Unzip my dress.”
He does and then he helps me shimmy it down my hips to let it pool at my feet. His hungry stare takes in my body. I’m not wearing a bra due to the dress’s design, and my underwear is barely there baby-blue lace. He swallows hard. “Wow, Scarlett. You’re perfect.”
“Show me what a real man would do with a woman like me,” I say in a voice I’m not sure I recognize.
“I’d love to, but I’m afraid you’ll regret this in the morning,” he says, barely holding on to his restraint.
“I’ll never regret being loved by you. Even if it’s just for one night.”
That seems to be the only answer he needs as he lifts me from my trashed dress and leaves it behind on the floor. He takes me back into the kitchen and sets me on the table. His fingers thread up the back of my neck and into my hair. That simple touch lulls me into the moment further. I’m a sucker for someone playing with my hair or a scalp massage.
“Tell me to stop, Scarlett. Tell me now,” he whispers gruffly as he leans in to touch his head to mine.
I grip his forearm and let my nails bite into it just a little. “I can’t do that,” I answer breathlessly.
I close my eyes as his lips touch mine again. He kisses me like he’s afraid I’ll evaporate into thin air. Once he’s thoroughly left my lips swollen with his kiss, he stands upright again to push me back slightly. I’m propped on my elbows and notice his smirk before he leans over to trail kisses down my neck, and then further down to my chest. He finds my nipples and gives each one lavish attention before pressing kisses all the way down to my underwear.
I can feel his breath through the lace and then he pulls down the flimsy material. I’d normally feel self-conscious, but somehow, I just feel beautiful in this moment. I hear his voice again and it causes me to tense up for a second. “I’m telling you one more time, please tell me to stop.”
Instead, my answer is, “Please don’t stop, Zander.”
He groans before I feel his tongue on me. He holds me in place as he brings me close. Then he stops, causing me to open my eyes. I see him fumbling with something in his wallet. He pulls out a foil pack and holds it between his teeth as he unbuttons and unzips his pants. “Last chance, little sunshine.”
Once the protection is in place, he arches a brow waiting for my response. “I want you, Zander. I want this.”
I feel him slowly enter me as he watches me for any hesitation. Then he brings me back close to him again. We’re eye to eye as he thrusts in and out. His hands are everywhere, feeling every soft curve. My hands feel all his hard edges.
The minutes tick by in silence except for our rapid breaths, until I feel it. That undeniable sensation of the sweetest release I can ever remember having. I break the silence with a small whimper as it takes over and becomes a moan. He holds me close with his hands in my hair and his own moan sounds in my ear.
Once we both float back to reality, he removes himself from me and then grabs a paper towel, wets it, and brings it over to me. “This is all I have to help you clean up. I’d offer my shirt again, but…the yellow might end up where it doesn’t belong,” he says while smirking.
I gladly accept the damp paper towel. “Thank you. Who knew such a grump could be so thoughtful.”
He drops his gaze, and even though the smile is still on his handsome face, it becomes a little tighter. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just, you put off the grumpy vibe to the world. I know just by spending the last few hours with you, you’re not. You’re more like a vault.”
He chuckles. “I’m not sure that’s better than grumpy.”
I laugh at the same time I feel heat in my cheeks again. “I mean, a vault is hard and locked up tight, but it’s protecting something valuable.”
His smile fades almost completely. “I’m afraid nothing about my heart is valuable anymore.”
I drop down from the table and stand in front of him. “One day, someone will make you see that it is.” I tap his chest just over his heart and allow myself to get lost in his dark eyes for a few seconds longer.
Then, I pull my lace panties back on before I walk away and add, “By the way, I’m stealing your shirt. I’m not putting that dress back on. You helped me trash it, and now I’m done with it. You can fold it up with your drop cloth and use it the same way if you want.”