Page 3 of Irresistible

CHAPTER TWO

Wednesday

The room was crowded and there was a low hum of conversation as everyone worked on their paintings. “Whoever decided that drinking wine and painting was a good combination is a genius,” Lilly said, as she added more green to the stalks of the flowers she was working on.

“Anything with wine is a good idea,” Poppy responded. “We need more though because that’s the only way these paintings are going to turn into anything we want to lay claim to.”

Leaning back, Lilly closed one eye and stared at her canvas. “If I squint, then it actually looks like the picture in my mind.” Taking her glass, she sipped carefully. “I ran into Brock at the station the other day, and he was actually nice to me. It was the weirdest thing. It was like an alien took over his body or something.”

Dropping her brush, Poppy sat back and spread out her hands. “Start from hello and don’t leave anything out.”

“Not much to tell…I needed some technical info and he offered to help. And the disapproval was kept to a minimum. It was very strange.”

“Maybe he’s finally giving in to the attraction he’s always felt for you,” Poppy replied, as she poured them each another glass. “I think you should add some sex and sizzle to your books and ask him to help you work out the scenes. I liked the five romantic suspense books you wrote. Maybe it’s time to leave death and destruction alone for a while.”

“Maybe.” Pushing her paintbrush into a glob of red paint, she darkened the base of the flower. “I’m stuck on where to take the story, so maybe it’s a sign. All I seem to be able to write are scenes where I kill Drew and Tina off.”

“When is your day in court?”

“Next month. They can’t drag this out anymore. It will be decided once and for all, and I’ll be free of their nonsense.”

Their friend Star wandered over with her glass of wine and stared at their work. “I think we definitely have talent. Every week I see our paintings come to life.”

“How many glasses have you had?” Lilly asked as she added a highlight.

“Don’t judge,” Star snapped.

“I’m on my second glass. Trust me, I’m not judging. I just wondered how many glasses it took to make this painting look good.”

“Three,” Star responded before plopping herself down. “What’s the latest on Drew’s demise?”

“Today I thought about making him the victim of a tornado. I wrote a scene where his body is picked up like a piece of trash and then dropped on top of a fence post. You know, one that’s rusty and sharp. It takes a while, so he really suffers.”

Star lifted her glass in salute. “That may be my favorite one yet.”

“I still like the piranhas,” Poppy said as she wiped off her brush. “I think flesh-eating fish are the way to go.”

“So far, I’ve killed him off in at least a dozen different ways. I was thinking of running a contest on my website to see which one gets the most votes.”

“That’s a great idea,” Poppy responded. “I vote for whatever makes him suffer most.”

“Me too,” Star added. “I had the unfortunate experience of running into him and Tina at the Rodgers’s on New Year’s Day, and let me tell you, they deserve one another. I’ve never been around two people who thought more of themselves. Tina was cruel in high school, and now she’s downright dangerous. I swear there’s something off about her. She has the look of the sociopaths I’ve seen in court.” Tightening her ponytail, she smirked. “Being a court reporter has given me a front row seat for society’s crazy parade, and that woman could lead the spectacle.”

“As long as she keeps her sociopathic ways away from me, then everything will be fine,” Lilly said as she stood. “I’m going to wash out my brushes. This masterpiece is done.”

Standing at the sink, she let the warm water run through the brushes and wondered if Poppy was right. Maybe she should add some sizzle to her books. When she had first started writing, she loved creating the romantic and sexy parts of her stories. Why had she left that behind?

A flash of white caught her attention. She turned toward the big plate glass window and saw Brock jogging across the street. He wasn’t in uniform, so he must be on his way to the Jefferson Street Pub. Their tumultuous past didn’t make her blind to the fact that he’d gotten more enticing the older he got. He’d been a dreamboat at sixteen. At thirty, he was six-foot-two of raw masculine power.

Poppy came up and hip-bumped her out of the way. “Are you writing a scene in your head?”

Lilly moved out of the way and dried her brushes. “Not really. Just letting my mind wander.” Hearing her best friend snicker, she knew she’d been caught.

“Your mind is wandering all over Brock’s very fine ass and long legs. You can fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. You look at him the same way you did when we were fifteen and he was leaving for college.”

“Like I’m relieved,” Lilly replied.

“No! Like the love of your life walked out the door.”

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