PaintedPassion Read Online Free Page B

answered. “No.”
    “Someone drove around the fountain last night. Wish I’d been
able to get a look at the license plate.”
    “Did you tell her?”
    “No. No need to worry her.” He opened a cabinet, extracting
a colorful mug with the words artists do it better emblazoned on the
front. Carlos filled the cup with coffee.
    With a nod, he indicated the food on the table in front of
Miguel. “That stuff’ll kill you one of these days.”
    “Probably, but I’m going to enjoy every bite.” Miguel
swallowed then gave a low whistle. “You need to get laid or what?” He sucked
his teeth. “Guess Trella wasn’t down for what you were up for, right?”
    Carlos choked on a swig of hot coffee. “You talk like that
around her?”
    Miguel waved away Carlos’ concerns. “Chill. Trella and I are
friends.”
    The doorbell pealed melodiously throughout the house. Miguel
heaved himself from the chair. “I’ll get it.”
    Alone again, Carlos returned his attention to Trella. Maybe
he’d inspired her. Whatever she worked on, her pencil moved across the paper as
if she couldn’t wait to see the finished product.
    His cousin returned with a large vase containing an explosion
of three dozen peach roses. With a low whistle, Miguel set the display on the
table. “Whoever sent these wants folks to know he’s interested.”
    Carlos wondered who sent them. Not that he cared…but out of
concern for Trella. Right.
    “Did you send them?”
    He blew his breath out in an effort to release the sudden
tension flowing through his body. “Nope.”
    “You should’ve.” Miguel chuckled. “Have you looked at her?
Banging body, intelligent and a sense of humor.”
    “She is an amazing woman,” Carlos agreed.
    “Make a move, man.”
    He didn’t need advice on women, especially from his cousin.
“What’s the plan for the day?” he asked, changing the subject.
    Miguel finished his juice. “We’re stopping by the gallery
and taking scenic photos from South Mountain.”
    “I’ll check on an updated security system.” He divulged the
hang-up calls Trella received. “Has she mentioned any other calls?”
    “No. Did call return yield any info?”
    Carlos shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll have a trace initiated
on the line.” He finished his coffee then rinsed out the mug. “See you later.”
    “You’re not letting her know you’re leaving?” Miguel mumbled
around a mouthful of food.
    Carlos glanced back out the window at the woman now
imprinted on his brain. “Tell her I’ll be back.”
    Miguel smirked. “I’m not getting any details about why you
spent the night?”
    “Nothing happened.”
    His cousin eyed him as if Carlos had sprouted a second head.
“Fine with me if you take it slow.”
    “I’m not interested.” If he said it enough times, perhaps
he’d actually believe it.
    Miguel threw his empty cartons in the trash with the flair
of an NBA player’s jump shot. “She’s a gorgeous woman. You wouldn’t be a
red-blooded male if you didn’t at least acknowledge the fact.”
    “Fine. She’s gorgeous and intelligent.” Carlos retrieved his
keys from his front jeans pocket. “But I’m not interested. I have enough female
friends.”
    “Yeah, and they all appear in ‘for a good time call’ ads.
Should tell you something.”
    “Tells me I need to find a new cousin.” Carlos left the
kitchen with Miguel’s laughter ringing in his ears.
    * * * * *
    With Miguel at her side, Trella entered Renault’s Fine Art
Gallery, her sketchbook tucked under one arm. In a bid to stay as cool as
possible in the hundred-degree heat, she wore a white linen wrap dress with
strappy navy sandals.
    “Ah, the flowering cactus has returned.” A tall, gaunt man
with wisps of steel gray hair covering his bald spot approached them. Francois
lived and breathed art and his had been the first gallery to feature her work.
He nurtured her, coaxing her not to be afraid to let her work shine. He alone
had done more to help her