Brush Strokes Read Online Free Page A

spine. A smile
pushed up the corners of his mouth as he studied it. “What do you
call…”
    Wait a minute.
    He angled the painting further,
separating it from the remainder of the stack. When the view didn’t
improve, his fingers moved over the next painting in line, pulling
it away for his review. But again, almost the same sight greeted
him. He flipped through another and then another, going through the
layers of paintings with more speed, less careful about damaging
the surfaces.
    Joe looked up to meet her resigned
expression. “Tanya?”
    “ I know. I know. I…” She
blew out a breath, dropping her face toward the carpeted floor.
“It’s…I have good intentions.”
    “ But none of these are
finished!”
    She raised her eyes to his. “And
therein lies the problem with being ready for a show in four days
that could make or break my career.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Three
    One minute she stood there, the world
around her spinning out of control and in the next, dear God, in
the next, she’d been enfolded into Joe’s embrace. She had no idea
when he’d crossed the room, when her arms wrapped around his waist,
when her head settled against his chest. His heart beat a steady
rhythm beneath her ear and she had the vague thought staying right
here for the next week would be so very, very nice.
    “ There’s time,” he
murmured.
    Sure. For anyone else, four
days might as well have been a year, but that just wasn’t how she
rolled. And lately with her talent eluding her strokes, the
vitality she sought not appearing on canvas, she’d been stymied. By
starting a painting anew, each one had been a vague hope she’d find
that je ne c’est quoi just beyond her fingertips.
    “ How did this happen?” he
questioned gently. “Was it really a surprise?”
    She dislodged the lump in her throat.
“It’s my fault. I kept putting him off, telling him my work was
going well. When he asked to look at something, I always convinced
him it was the piece in progress and that the one I’d just finished
was off being framed. He never questioned it.” She lifted a
shoulder and let it drop. “I don’t know why he always believed me,
but he did.”
    Jesus and now was it ever coming back
to bite her in the ass. She tightened her arms around Joe, needing
for a few minutes more a solid foundation to hold onto. Something
stable to focus on. If she tried to think about how much shit she
was in, she’d fall apart.
    He leaned back and caught her chin. As
tender as always, he tilted her face toward his. “So, we’ll get to
work today and get these finished. Right?”
    “ Joe, I can’t just pick up
and finish something I’ve already started.”
    “ You want to start
fresh?”
    “ I have to.”
    This time he blew out a defeated
breath. “Would you have time for that?”
    “ No.” Her laugh immediately
afterward sounded bitter to her own ears.
    He studied her face and she had the
sudden notion that she was about to have a nervous breakdown. There
was so much concern in his pretty blues that he must have been
afraid for her sanity. She knew she had some concerns of her
own.
    “ Humor me, Tanya,” he said,
withdrawing from her embrace at last. He went to the stack and
extracted the first painting, the one he’d spent the most time
reviewing. “This one is fantastic. Start with this one and see what
happens when you try to finish it.”
    It was a damned good
painting. He seemed celestial in it, but still, she had her
reservations about any further progress at this point. She loved
that he wanted to help, but he didn’t get it. “Joe, I have moved on
since that one. That was one of our first together. Months ago. I’ve grown a
little since then and even what you’ve shown me yesterday comes
across clearly today in what I paint.”
    “ I don’t accept you cannot
take what you’ve learned and apply it now.”
    “ On top of what’s already
there?”
    “ Of course.”
    “ It’s not the