The Genius and the Muse (25 page)

“It’s that layering thing I was talking about. I do the same pose wearing… you know what, just shut up and help me get out of here.”

Still laughing, he looked around where she had her equipment set up. He was hoping the camera was on a timer and had captured that fall.

“Uh…Javi? A little help, please?”

“Yeah, I’m working on it. Do you have a blanket or something? So you don’t scratch your legs up?” Marring her perfect legs would be a crime.

“No. I have my jeans over there, but there’s not really room to put them on, I’m sort of wedged—”

“Okay, just…” Still snickering, he walked over and peeked through the pipe to the other side where Kate was wedged between the corrugated wall and the pipe. “Hi there.”

“At least you didn’t call the ambulance this time.”

“I just
thought
about calling them, Katie. I didn’t actually do it. And thought you had stabbed yourself with rebar.”

“As fascinating as this conversation is, can you maybe get me out of here?”

“Hold on,” he muttered.

Javi climbed into the pipe and reached a hand down for her to take. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but there was no way she would have been able to climb out herself.

“I think you can just grab onto my arm and—”

“Yeah, I think I have it. It’s a good thing you’re so strong,” she said breathlessly.

Feeling a little bit like Superman, he felt her fingers wrap around his bicep, and he tried grasping her arm, only to brush up against what felt a lot like a pert breast. He heard her let out a soft whimper, and he let his fingers wander. “Hmm, is it cold in here?”

“Help me out and I’ll let you know, you perv.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He laughed. “Here, just grab on. Both hands…”

“Okay, I think I have it.” Javi heard her grunt before she grasped his arm firmly, and he pulled her up toward him as he braced himself in the pipe. He lifted her with one tug, so she was lying soft, warm, and almost naked in his arms.

Well, that worked out better than expected.

Kate’s legs lay across his own and her right arm came up to grasp his shoulder. They were both breathing heavily, and he felt his hands grip, as if he was keeping her from escaping. Their faces were only inches apart as they sat curled in the pipe, and he could feel her warm breath on his cheek.

“Hey,” he said, looking at her lips as her tongue darted out to lick them.

“Hey yourself.” She wiggled on his lap and Javi groaned.

“Clumsy, stubborn little girl…” He slowly drew her closer, and his callused hands trailed down her smooth shoulders, grazing the sides of her breasts before they rested at her waist. Kate shivered, but he only smiled, enjoying his playful seduction.

“Cranky, bossy old man…”

“You gonna say thank you?” Javi’s head tilted slightly, and he saw her eyes dart down to his mouth before her lips reached up to meet his own in a burning kiss.

He was surrounded by her, his right hand reached up to grasp the hair at the nape of her neck and his fingers flexed in the warm flame. His other hand gripped her waist, dragging her into his chest. Her hands moved from his solid shoulders, up toward his neck, and she pulled him closer, pressing her body against his. Javi inhaled her soft breath and stroked her tongue when she opened to him. A soft whimper escaped her throat, and he backed away from her, only to have her pull his mouth back to hers.

“Katie,” he murmured, as her lips left his to trail along his jaw. Her swollen mouth nibbled at his jaw, and her hands reached down his neck to spread under his t-shirt as she scratched her nails along his skin. “I swear I came back to tell you something and not just rescue you from your own photograph and fool around.”

“Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Javi?” she whispered before she tucked her face into the crook of his neck and nestled there. Her fingers trailed along the orange and yellow flames that tracked up from his collarbone and covered some of the scars along his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He smiled. “I know.”

She looked up so suddenly, she knocked his head back against the pipe.

“Ow!”

“What?”

They both spoke at the same time.

Rubbing the back of his head, he grinned. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

Kate’s mouth dropped open and her face turned beet red. “I do not!”

He burst into laughter, unable to do anything except nod and hold her tightly to prevent her from climbing off his lap.

“I can’t believe—how long?” She punched his shoulder when he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh…” He was still laughing. “Maybe… September?”

He snorted when she hit his shoulder again. He was a little bit afraid she would hurt her hand if she kept punching him.

“I’ve been saying ‘I love you’ in my sleep for over six months, and you didn’t say anything?”

Javi grabbed her fist and kissed it. “Who says I didn’t say anything?”

She paused, the blush rising in her cheeks again, and smiled shyly. “So… what did you say?”

He kissed her hand again, smoothing it out from a clenched fist. “What do you think I said? You know I love you.”

“Yeah?”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. Now, can we get out of here?”

Kate cocked her head to the side and looked at him sympathetically. “That arthritis acting up again?”

She squealed when he pinched her thigh, and she almost fell out of the pipe again. Laughing, Kate scrambled down and went to put on her jeans and check her camera, which was still set up. Javi watched her, thinking of any number of ways he could distract her since he was done with his work for the day and wanted her done, too.

“So what were you coming back to tell me?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He lowered himself down. “Reed and Sam got married yesterday.”

Kate’s eyes lit up and she smiled. It was the same smile she got when she captured the exact light she was hoping for or completed a project she was working on. Javi loved all of her, but he especially loved that smile.

“Well,” she said with a grin, “how about that?”

Part Twelve: Two Lovers

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Pomona, California

April 2011

“
I
t’s going to be good.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“It will be.”

“But—”

“Kate,” Javi scowled, “why are you being like this? You’re one of the least insecure people I know.”

Her eyes wandered around the bustling art walk on the second Saturday of April. Her first gallery show would be in two weeks at one of the bigger galleries in the Pomona Arts Colony. Lydia wanted to play up the local angle and had taken care of most of the details, leaving Kate with little to do but worry about the reception of her series of self-portraits taken in Javi’s studio over the previous nine months.

“It’s important. Really important, and you and Reed and Sam and Vanessa and everyone are going to be here, and because you’re all going to be there, all these journalists are going to be there, and—”

“Do you not want everyone to come?” he cut her off. “Say the word and I’ll tell everyone to butt out and stay home.”

“No!” She turned to him and put a hand on his chest. “That’s not it. I want you all there, it’s just the expectations. What if it’s not as good as everyone expects?”

Javi frowned, pausing to think before he tugged on her arm to start walking again. “Your stuff’s good, Kate. Very good. But you never know. You might be right.” Kate came to a halt on the sidewalk, but he only grabbed her hand and kept walking past a group of people who waved and nodded at them both. “It’s possible the critics aren’t going to like it. Or they’ll say something nasty. Or just write something rude because they can. That’s kind of the way it works sometimes.”

She tried pulling away from him, annoyed that he couldn’t just make her feel better for once, but he tugged her back to his side and tucked her under his arm. They continued walking through the streets, stopping at the same taco stand as they had their first night together. They sat down on a curb and Javi cracked open her drink and handed it to her. Kate leaned over, kissing his rough cheek before he gave a reluctant smile and started eating.

As frustrating as it was, Kate knew Javi was never going to be a man who told her what she wanted to hear just to reassure her. And she could also admit it was one of the things she loved most about him. When it came to her photography, she trusted his opinion implicitly because she knew he would always tell her the absolute truth.

“Thanks. I’m still nervous, but thanks. I know you’re right. I’m just scared.”

“You going to stop taking pictures if they hate it?”

“No.”

He smiled and leaned over, returning her kiss and playfully nipping at her cheek. “So what does it matter what they say?”

Kate thought about it for a few moments, enjoying the rush of people that sped past them as they sat on the sidewalk.

“You’re right.”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Just keep doing your thing, Katie. Your stuff is real and raw and beautiful. The important people are going to see that.”

Kate glanced at him from the corner of her eye, marveling at how easy it was to love him. Most of their friends and family still found Javi and Kate something of an oddity. He was taciturn, antisocial, and old enough that more than one person commented. She was optimistic, friendly, and playful, unless she was in the middle of a shoot.

Yet despite all their differences, Kate and Javi just worked. Dee had seen it. Reed saw it, and even Kate’s father had told her the month before he thought Javi was “good for her.” Their friends might have been initially stumped, but no one could deny that the two made each other happy; and both were doing exceptional work.

Javi finished his food and stood, holding a hand out to Kate, who ate the last bite of her taco and reached out for him. He tossed their garbage away, put an arm around her, and held her a little closer as they meandered through the crowd. She leaned her head on his shoulder and kept moving forward.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

New York City, New York

September 2011

“
W
hy do I have to keep telling you to hold still?”

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of their apartment as Sam lay on the bed, propped up by pillows and surrounded by rumpled sheets as her husband of six months perched next to her, sighing in frustration as he tried to work.

“It tickles.” She giggled as the paintbrush traced over her stomach. “Maybe you should distract me. Take your clothes off. You being naked always distracts me.”

Reed smirked. “I’m sure you’d be plenty distracted, but I don’t think you’d be holding still. You never hold still; it’s one of the reasons I love you.” He winked, and his fingers traced up and around her swollen abdomen. He laid a gentle kiss on her bellybutton before the paintbrush swirled around it in an intricate filigree.

“Whose idea was this again? Oh yes, yours. This was your idea.”

“It’s a great idea. Be quiet.”

“I already have stretch marks down there, don’t I?” Sam wrinkled her nose a little as she stared at her pregnant belly. When they found out she was pregnant five months before, she had been surprised, to say the least. They had been told conceiving would be difficult, so she and Reed were initially shocked, then thrilled, when the doctor told them the unexpected news.

They had quietly married in a small ceremony the previous March, six months after they had been reunited in California and two months after they moved back to New York. They’d spent a relaxing week in Savannah for their honeymoon, where Sam painted the oak allée of Forsyth Park, this time including the old men who sat in the park feeding the birds, and the young children playing in front of the fountain. Reed took countless pictures of her as she worked, feeling invigorated by the camera for the first time in years.

Lydia had been thrilled to have them back, though she was less than thrilled when both of them seemed determined to spend several months out of the year in Southern California. Reed and Sam just dug their heels in and told her to deal with it.

“Reed?” Sam asked again. “I have stretch marks, don’t I?”

“Mmmhmm,” he mumbled, his forehead wrinkled as he traced the elaborate Mehndi designs over his wife’s pregnant belly with black tempera paint. “I want to go back to India when the baby's old enough. I miss the colors. Maybe my mom can go with us.” He continued tracing. “I should have done this on your hands and feet with henna when we got married. I think Dee did for her wedding.”

Sam laughed, but tried to hold still when he shot her a dirty look. “I’m not Indian, Reed,” she pointed out logically. “There might have been a few funny looks at the courthouse.”

“Who cares? It’s beautiful.” He drew out the word sensuously as the brush swirled along her skin. “And so are your stretch marks.”

“Stretch marks are
not
beautiful.”

“They are when they’re on my wife who is pregnant with our child. They’re pretty great then, if you ask me. Besides… they’re interesting,” Reed murmured.

His head cocked to the side as he continued painting; and his dark hair, which he had grown out a little, fell into his eyes. “It’s your skin, but different. That’s what makes it beautiful.”

Reed’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he continued, speaking quietly as the brush moved over and around her belly. “We’re always changing. Why do you think I like to photograph people? Every person is unique. Changing all the time. No two pictures are alike.” He was silent after that, but finally looked up when he heard her sniff. “Hey, what’s wrong?”