Chapter Three
Was the music supposed to calm the art class or put them into a trance?
Or maybe Keegan owed his fugue-like state to a night of very little sleep and not to the combination of rain patter and melodic instruments.
He’d gotten back to Redemption Ridge at a decent hour, thanks to the court processor, but he hadn’t fallen asleep until a few hours before his alarm went off.
Even then, his fitful slumber produced arousing dreams that stirred emotional and physical reactions best not remembered in a room full of people.
He shouldn’t recall his damp skin, the tangled sheets, or his hard-on pinned between his stomach and the mattress.
But Keegan’s mind went there, so the natural next memory was the way he’d eased that ache and the name he whispered as a rush of pleasure flooded his body.
“Yo, Kee,” Rueben whispered into his right ear. “Are those blue balls symbolic of something?”
“Let me see,” Sven said, muscling in from the left.
Keegan blinked to focus his eyes and nearly groaned when he saw the big, blue orbs he’d painted in the center of the canvas. He could barely recall picking up his brush, let alone choosing the three different shades of blue he’d turned into nearly perfect spheres.
Sven snorted. “It’s definitely symbolic of his unrequited pining.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Whose balls are this symmetrical? One of mine is slightly larger than the other.”
“Mine are the same size, but I swear my left buddy hangs a fraction lower than the right,” Rueben said. “You hear ladies remark that their eyebrows don’t have to be twins, just sisters. You think it’s the same with our testicles? They don’t have to be twins, just brothers?”
This time, Keegan groaned. Why had he invited these two goons to his first art therapy class? Because he freaking loved the men who’d do anything to make him laugh, such as the smiley face Rueben painted on the right blue ball.
“No way Keegan’s brothers are smiling,” Sven countered. He leaned in and painted a frowning face on the left ball.
“This looks like a social commentary about playing favorites,” Rueben said.
“One brother got all the affection while the other got ignored,” Sven agreed. “Must show them both equal love.”
Someone cleared their throat toward the front of the class, and Keegan locked eyes with the instructor, Melinda. Her expression was a mixture of the two emotions Rueben and Sven painted. Her mouth turned down at the corners, but her eyes sparkled with good humor.
“Sorry,” he mouthed before shooing his friends back to their canvases.
Their first session turned out to be a freestyle paint instead of a guided practice.
Melinda had pinned several inspiration images at the front of the class, but none of them resembled his blue balls, Sven’s colorful sailboat, or Rueben’s lakeside landscape.
Keegan easily recognized Rue’s setting as Seth’s fishing cabin but had never heard Sven mention anything about sailboats.
“Do you like to sail?” Keegan asked.
Sven smiled ruefully but didn’t look away from his project.
“Never been. It’s just a series of easy shapes I can connect and turn into something close to art.
” He brushed more sunny yellow paint on a sail to give it a deeper color.
“And my mom collected sailboats. Her grandmother had grown up in Martha’s Vineyard, and my mom talked about us vacationing there someday.
But money was tight after my parents got divorced, and then… ”
Sven’s mother had died of cancer when he was eight, which was right about the time his father remarried.
He’d moved in with Steven, Lucinda, and Kerry.
Sven once referred to that period as a family of fractured souls trying their best to exist in a world that wanted them to suck up their grief and move on.
Lucinda and Kerry’s entire world had been turned upside down just two years prior when Natalie’s murder destroyed their family.
His mother’s brief sickness and death shattered Sven, and Steven was trying to be the stalwart rock for everyone to lean on.
The environment was ripe with potential pitfalls and land mines, but they’d navigated through the storm and came out stronger on the other side.
Keegan had been in their midst enough to recognize genuine love when he saw it.
“Maybe we should plan a trip to Martha’s Vineyard for next summer,” Keegan suggested.
Sven turned and smiled at him. “I’d love that, but you’ll be busy planning your honeymoon.”
Keegan rolled his eyes and turned his attention to his canvas.
He would not continue the conversation they’d had the previous night.
Sven was convinced Kerry had developed feelings for Keegan, but he couldn’t afford to entertain the notion.
Keegan’s subconscious lacked the same discipline and had turned his dreams into vivid images of what Kerry’s love could look like.
But he was awake and in control of his thoughts, so Keegan reached deep for his determination and studied his painting.
What exactly was he going to do with his blue balls?
Um, do about them? Keegan’s focus teetered and nearly pitched his mind back into the gutter.
“Excuse me,” Rueben said, leaning into his personal space again. “Did I hear something about a honeymoon?”
“No,” Keegan growled.
“Yes,” Sven countered. He moved in closer until Keegan was once again sandwiched between them. “You should’ve seen them last night.” Sven’s voice took on a dreamy quality, and his eyelids lowered to half-mast.
Rue narrowed his eyes and glared at Keegan. “You’re dating someone and didn’t tell me.”
“Nope,” Keegan said. “Sven has turned into a delusional matchmaker while you weren’t looking.”
“I am not the one with blinders on,” Sven countered. “Kerry was seconds away from kissing our sweet Keegan in the middle of the dance floor.”
“Kerry who?” Rueben asked. “Hart?”
“I don’t know another Kerry.” Too late, Keegan realized his answer sounded like an admission.
“Aha!” Sven exclaimed, causing everyone in the class to turn in their direction. “You admit he was about to kiss you.”
“Chill, dude.” Keegan added a soft elbow jab to Sven’s ribs with his whispered admonishment.
“And Kerry wasn’t on the verge of kissing me.
” Except maybe he had been. Keegan recalled the warmth of Kerry’s hands against his face and the smoldering intensity sizzling in his dark gaze. “Nothing happened.”
“Yet,” Sven countered in a singsong voice.
Rue’s quirked eyebrow expressed his curiosity, but his dark eyes glittered with fierce protectiveness. “You sound too breathy, so it definitely had to be something.”
“Something hot,” Sven said, fanning himself.
Keegan turned an annoyed glare on his friend. “Knock it off.”
“What happened to you warning Keegan away from Kerry?” Rueben asked. “Didn’t you tell us that Kerry has built vast walls around his heart and employs a miniature dragon to patrol them?”
Sven scoffed. “I doubt I said that exactly.”
“Close enough,” Keegan said. “The implication was clear.”
“So, what’s changed?” Rueben asked.
Sven cocked his head and pursed his lips as he considered the question.
Keegan tried not to let on just how invested he was by the answer.
“It’s not a specific thing.” Keegan hated the way his heart sank, and he hoped his disappointment didn’t show.
“It’s this collective energy of actions and reactions whenever Kee enters the room.
You’re too wrapped up in Seth to attend family dinners right now, but you and my cousin are missing out on one hell of a saga. ”
Rueben assessed Keegan with twinkling eyes. “Is that so?”
“Nope,” Keegan said.
“The temperature goes up twenty degrees whenever Keegan and Kerry are in the same room,” Sven said.
Keegan’s foolish heart soared like a balloon on the breeze. He tried to grab the string before his daydreaming carried it too far away, but it only floated higher. “You’re ridiculous.” But had he meant Sven’s assumptions or his foolish heart?
Rue waved off Keegan’s denial. “Continue. I want to hear specifics.”
“First, Kerry does an impression of a meerkat whenever Keegan arrives,” Sven said. “His head pops up, and he goes on high alert, looking left and right with quick, jerky motions.” He demonstrated what he meant and winked at Keegan. “Listen, I’m telling this in terms Rueben can understand.”
Keegan laughed at the reminder of his first visit to the Thirsty Cowboy, where he’d not only danced with Kerry but got to see Sven in action for the first time.
Rueben had hilariously narrated Sven’s flirtations like they were wildlife encounters occurring in a National Geographic documentary.
Sven was the gazelle who masterfully seduced the hunky lion.
Kerry had asked Keegan to dance before he got to witness the outcome of the conquest. Keegan had asked Sven about it during their drive home last night, and he’d learned that the lion had fallen prey to Kerry’s cockblocking antics.
“Let the gazelle talk,” Rue said.
“It’s like his every sense is tuned in to where Keegan is and what he’s doing,” Sven said.
“I think I’d know if that was the case,” Keegan argued.
But Sven continued talking as if he hadn’t heard Keegan’s protest. “The rest of the room fades away as Kerry tracks his every move. He laughs when Keegan laughs and smiles when Keegan smiles.”
“Christ,” Keegan groaned. “I’m really concerned about your observational skills. Pretty sure those are grimaces.”
“Nothing wrong with my eyesight or perceptions,” Sven replied before returning his attention to Rueben.
“And the look on Kerry’s face whenever Lucinda wraps her arms around Kee.
I’m telling you, that big, growly bear melts because Kerry adores his mother.
And guess who Mama Lulu loves?” Sven pointed at Keegan.
“He’s growly like the Big Bad Wolf,” Keegan corrected absently. He would not touch the other parts with a ten-foot pole.