Safeword Quinacridone (21 page)

She wasn’t being booted
out
;
she could’ve stayed until well into next year. The Arts Council asked for a copy of their tax returns
,
and decisions about who might be ready to leave were based on those; but she knew it was time, and Travis had been asking her to move in with him for months now.

“I’ll miss you too, Papa Bear. I’ll be back to visit Kiki, so I’ll still be in and out. My art is better because I’ve had you looking over my shoulder for the past couple of years. Thank you, for everything. Not just the art advice, but for taking care of us, making sure we’re safe. It’s meant a lot.”

Papa Bear grunted as he released her from his embrace. “You know the drill; you’ll be asked to spend at least sixteen hours a year mentoring the artists who
live
here. I
have
your email so you’ll get notification of the four seasonal parties we throw; as an alumna you’ll still be invited free of charge. You’re staying in town so this isn’t goodbye.”

Cara knew he was thinking of one of the musicians who’d left last week for California. They’d all been thrilled for him, but sad to say goodbye. Wanting leave on a more upbeat note, she took a breath and said, “Hey, you’ll have two new people coming in at the same time. New blood’ll be good for the house.”

“I walked through a few minutes ago and didn’t see anything of yours still here. If we find something, we’ll let you know. Kiki says the two of you plan to have a standing Tuesday date?”

“Yeah, I should stop stalling and just go.” She gave him a final quick hug before backing up and wiping a tear, and his smile was sad as he said, “Bye Cara. Take care of yourself. I know he’s built you something like our sunroom, make sure you put it to good use. You’re a talented artist, keep with it.”

* * * *

Cara directed the movers to put her furniture into the guest room Travis had emptied, and her clothes went into the extremely large closet he’d added onto the master bedroom. Contractors had turned the room next to his home office into another office, and her computer went in there. Her art supplies went into the solarium — a freestanding sunroom he’d had built on the grounds to entice her to move in. She’d spend tomorrow putting everything away out there.

Debbie, Travis’ housekeeper, fed everyone and ensured they had plenty to drink. Cara had made friends with Debbie but still felt self-conscious letting anyone clean up after her. However, it made Debbie uncomfortable when Cara helped, so she’d gradually learned to back off and let the older woman do her job.

It’d been almost a year since the night of Cara’s first gallery opening, and she’d stayed with Travis quite a bit as the two had grown closer. She had to admit having the bedding changed out every couple of days was an indulgent luxury, and she loved having her dirty clothes magically appear as clean again — all hung up and everything. Debbie also kept track of their toiletries, restocking before they ran out.

Travis was seriously spoiled, and Cara worried she’d be spoiled by it, too. What if they lived together for six months and decided it wasn’t working? Sure, she could afford to support herself now, but it would be a nice apartment or a modest house. She wouldn’t have the great place to create her work, or the pool, or Debbie. What if she started putting up with shit from Travis so she could still have all of this? Maybe this was a mistake.

By the time Travis arrived home from the office, Cara had worked herself into a tizzy. He took one look at her and knew something was wrong.

“Did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Cara almost burst into tears, but managed to hold them back as she said, “What if this spoils everything? What if we can’t stand seeing each other this much? Are you sure you want me and all my things here?”

Travis pulled her into his arms and held her a moment before walking with her to a sofa. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead before saying, “We’ve seen each other at our worst. I’ve seen you in a manic painting phase and survived it. You’ve seen me when I code for days and barely sleep because there’s no room in my head for anything other than what I’m creating. I’ve watched you fall apart before gallery openings, you’ve watched me rant and rave at suppliers who don’t follow through on promises. We’ve seen the best and worst and we’re both still here. Sure, living together is bound to require some adjustments, but we’ll figure it out. We both want this to work, so it will. I love you, Cara.”

“I love you, too,” she sniffled. “It’s part of why I’m so scared. What if you get tired of me being here all the time? You’ll go off to work but I’ll be working here, either in my office or the solarium. Since Debbie does all the shopping I may never leave!”

“Of course you’ll get out. I’ve offered to give you an office at work so you can do your graphics stuff with the group. I’m not currently participating much on the education project, so you’d primarily be working with Timothy and the rest of the team. And we’ll be eating out, and going out to do fun stuff. You’ll see Kiki on Tuesdays, and I know you have other friends you’ll want to spend time with.”

She sat up a little. “I’m being
a baby. I’m sorry. It’s just...
handing my keys over to Papa Bear was harder than I thought it’d be.”

“I’m sorry.” He lifted a strand of hair that’d come loose from her ponytail and gingerly looped it behind her ear. “Is there something else I can do to make you feel like this is your home, too, and not that you’ve moved into my house? I thought giving you a room for your things, letting you pick out the paint and flooring in it and your new office, and building the solarium...” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe you need to do more? Do you want to redecorate our bedroom? Or maybe the living room? The pool area? The whole house?”

Cara considered his questions a moment and said, “If I could maybe swap some accessories out with my things? Buy a few pieces to add here and there? And I mean I will pay for them — not that I’ll choose and you’ll purchase. I want to physically go shopping and buy items with my money. Nothing major, maybe some lamps and doo-dads here and there. Nothing I’ll do all at once.”

“Of course you can. Consider this your house, too. Our house. You shouldn’t have to ask, okay? A few months from now, I want anyone who walks in to see your imprint on it as much as mine. Do what you need to make it happen. If you choose to spend your money, fine, whatever. Or perhaps I should set up a construction and decorating budget. I’d be more than willing to open a joint account with a couple hundred thousand in it so you can do what you need without asking for funds. In fact, we’ll go to the bank tomorrow and handle it.”

Cara tried to interrupt but he spoke first. “You don’t have to use it but it’ll be there if you want it. Did you get your computer set up okay?”

She rolled her eyes, letting the bank account idea drop, but she had no intention of taking his money. “Of course I did. It’s not rocket science. I love my new closet, too. The organization person you hired helped me put everything away and it looks great. My water bottles and lunch stuff are in my closet for now; I didn’t want to invade the kitchen while Debbie was in there. Tomorrow I’ll spend the day arranging everything in the solarium.”

“Let’s put your stuff in the kitchen now, and we can see how long until Debbie has dinner ready. She likes you; don’t worry so much about invading her space. It’s our kitchen, she works for us.”

Cara started to interject it didn’t matter who owned it, the kitchen still belonged to Debbie, but he beat her to the punch. “Yes, I’m aware she runs the house, but only because it’s her job. She’s been with me a long time
.
I treat her with respect, I pay her well, and she takes good care of me. By the same token, I take care of her. When a tree fell on her place last year I sent my contractor to her house and had him work with her insurance company so he could begin working to fix it right away.”

“That reminds me, who’s JB? I heard you inquire about him the other night and forgot to ask.”

“JB is her son. Long story short, he was arrested at fifteen, I bailed him out of jail and my attorney got him off the hook, and I insisted he work for me to reimburse my legal costs. He’d been somewhat lost, drifting, but we gave him focus. After he’d worked off the eighteen hundred dollars, he stayed on with us part-time through high school, for a paycheck. He was accepted to MIT but couldn’t afford it, and was applying to less expensive colleges, so I ended up paying the difference in tuition. I could’ve paid the entire thing but his mother said he should be responsible for part of it so he’d appreciate it, and I followed her wishes.”

“Where’s he now? How’s he doing?”

“He works for a company I sold a few years ago and is doing quite well. Debbie’s like part of my family but she’s also my employee. I realize it isn’t a relationship you’re used to, but I want you to understand the kitchen is yours
,
and I don’t want you afraid to use it. I trust her to manage it without oversight, so I generally let her do what she wants, but if one of us would like something handled differently we have to tell her or she won’t know.”

Cara wrapped her arms around his neck, rested her cheek against his chest. “Would it be okay if I asked you for something?”

His hands went to her arms and slid around to her back until he was holding her. He leaned forward to kiss
the top of her
head and said, “Of course, what do you want?”

“I
need
. I’m not sure what I need, but will you take me to the playroom after dinner? Remove my choices for a little while?”

He caressed her back, massaged her shoulders. “I won’t objectify you tonight. I’ll take you to the playroom but you’ll know how much I love you as I work you over. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Okay, let’s get your things from your closet and take them to the kitchen. Debbie’s making something special to celebrate your officially moving in, and it should be ready soon.”

* * * *

When they finished dinner, Travis put her into a warm bathtub and told her to soak for a while. The monitor hanging on the wall over her feet displayed a painting, and he put the waterproof wireless mouse in her hand. “It’s scrolling through the art in the Louvre and will stay on each for thirty seconds unless you use the mouse to pause, go forward, or go back. You can also click on an image for more information, or zoom in on parts of it. I have some prep to take care of and will come get you when I’m ready.”

Travis’ plan worked, because Cara became engrossed in the pictures and barely realized time had passed when he came to get her half an hour later. He dried her off and led her into the bedroom and towards the hallway. When she hesitated at the door he said, “Debbie’s gone for the day; we have the house to ourselves.”

She gave him an apologetic look, sorry she’d doubted him, but he kissed her on top of the head and wrapped his arm around her. “It’s okay Cara Mia. I’ll keep explaining until you can trust.”

He held her hand as they walked comfortably through the house. Sometimes he dressed up for these scenes, making her feel even more naked next to him in a tux or leather pants. Tonight he was still in his work clothes — khaki pants and a blue button down with a white tee peeking out.

She remembered what he’d said about not objectifying her tonight
,
but she no longer worried about a lack of arousal. Travis could make her body sing an entire chorus of sensations. In some ways, his resolve to see her as a person and not an object turned her on
because
of his insistence; he knew what she wanted but was choosing a scene designed to please
him
, no matter how she felt about it.

He hadn’t had a playroom in the house when they started dating but he’d slowly added pieces to a basement room, and had infused so much warmth and comfort into it she sometimes went in there to read when she needed time alone. The room was soundproof and the door stayed locked, needing one of their palm prints to enter, as neither of them wanted Debbie to have to deal with their kinks.

So now they walked through the house side by side, and he led her to the gyno table when they reached the playroom. It’d been made to look like an antique but was new, with warm wood tones and supple brown leather. He knelt to wrap the soft, chocolate leather cuffs around her ankles, his hands smoothing them down, and a finger poking in to test the fit. He stood and caressed her face, brushed her lips with his, and slid his hand down her arm, up her back — a patient seduction that made her tremble.

Once, gentle kisses irritated her, but with Travis she sometimes thought her heart would burst, the emotions so strong from merely a soft brush of his lips.

His eyes gleamed as they focused on her, and he straightened, talking as he secured the cuffs around her wrists. “I want you to know I see you tonight. I’m doing this to you, the woman I love, because it makes both of us happy. You’re my partner, my friend, my other half. I see you. I love you.”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded and closed her eyes as he urged her backwards onto the table. He kept his movements slow, deliberate, as he clipped her ankle cuffs into the stirrups and wrist cuffs to hooks near her face.

The table vibrated under her as the motor raised her head and their eyes met.