Page 57 of Chasing Sunsets

His arms wrap around me, holding me in place.

I tilt my head, brushing the tip of my paint-covered finger against his jawline. “Now, you really look like a work of art.”

His eyes darken. “Yeah?” His voice is a low rasp. “Then, maybe you should sign your masterpiece.”

His hands tighten on my waist, and before I can respond, he crashes his lips against mine.

The kiss is hungry, paint-smudged, and completely intoxicating. His fingers slide up my back, tugging me closer, deepening the kiss. I melt into him, my hands finding his hair, his chest, his shoulders. I don’t care that we’re covered in paint. I don’t care that we’re making an absolute mess. All I care about is this—the way he tastes like salt and summer, the way my body fits against his, like I was made to be his.

A sudden, horrified gasp shatters the moment.

“Oh my God, you guys are naked!”

We jolt apart, breathless, turning to see Parker and Audrey standing at the top of the stairway that leads onto the deck. Audrey’s mouth is open in shock, but Parker is smirking.

“No, we’re not naked,” I say, my voice shaky as I climb out of Anson’s lap.

Audrey covers her eyes anyway. “You look naked. The paint—it’s—” She gestures wildly. “Oh my God, it’s everywhere!”

Parker just grins, arms crossed. “Well, this is definitely the most interesting thing I’ve walked in on.”

Anson groans, dragging a hand down his face—and smearing even more paint. “This is not what it looks like.”

“It definitely is,” Parker says, grinning wider.

Audrey peeks through her fingers. “You have pants on, right?”

Anson sighs. “I have trunks on.”

I stand and reach a hand out to help him up.

Parker waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, don’t stop on our account.”

Audrey yelps and smacks his arm. “We are not staying to watch.” She grabs his hand and drags him to the door as she calls over her shoulder, “We picked up Chinese. Hose off before you come inside.”

The door slams, leaving us alone again.

I bite my lip, looking at Anson. He’s still seated, and his arms come around my waist and pull me back down to my knees. Both of us are covered in paint, head to toe, and our clothes are a disaster, our breathing still uneven.

We both burst out laughing.

“Well,” he says, wiping a streak of blue from my cheek, “that escalated quickly.”

I grin. “Yeah, but I have to admit …” I trail my fingers down his chest again, smirking. “You make a pretty good canvas.”

His eyes darken once more. “Careful, Trouble,” he murmurs, his voice filled with promise. “Because I’m definitely not done with you yet.”

He stands up, pulling me with him, and carries me down the steps to the outdoor shower stall nestled underneath the deck.

Anson

We have dinner with Parker and Audrey, sharing laughs about the state they found us in, before they have to leave for Whiskey Joe’s—the bar that Audrey manages.

While I’m rinsing a plate at the sink, Parker comes up and clasps my shoulder. “We’re going to spend one last night at Audrey’s apartment before she turns in the keys tomorrow. So, you and Tabby enjoy yourselves.”

I nod as he leads Audrey to the door. They step outside and close it, but it immediately swings back open, and Parker’s head pops back inside.

“But no body painting in the house,” he says, then disappears again.

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