Page 87 of Fresh Canvas
I wrapped my hands around the curve of her waist, deepening the kiss. Our conversation could hardly be considered productive, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Instead of cooking”—I pressed my forehead against hers, admiring the perfect symmetry of her lips—“I figured we could order take-out so we’d have more time to dothis.”
Amantha’s laugh was throaty, her eyes still glassy with desire. “You’re an idiot.”
“Only for you.”
Much to my dismay, Amantha ducked under my braced arm, headed to my couch, and threw herself on top of it with a sigh. I leaned my shoulder into the wall, watching her.
Jealousy for the stupid inanimate object overcame me. Never thought I’d be in competition with a couch, but it was apparent I was losing. Maybe once she had her own, she’d get bored and throw herself atmeinstead.
We ordered our food and sat talking while we waited for thedelivery. A bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter behind us quietly played one of my playlists.
Amantha trailed her pink fingernails over the ridges in my palm as we talked. I stilled, enjoying each second of her attention across my fingertips. The way this woman could melt me with a single touch was a superpower only she possessed.
“So, Anthony called me this morning.” Pain laced her cheery tone.
“Is he doing okay?”
“Seems like it. But I think he’s homesick. I mean, I am too.” A bemused expression crossed her face. “Not homesick, I guess. Anthony-sick.”
She sighed at our joined hands, letting her head fall heavily on my shoulder. “Ryan wants me to let him extend the trip for another week, but I told him no. Vanessa’s case isn’t over yet. Once she gets there, Ryan wants more time for her and Anthony tobond.”
“He can’t make you, can he?”
“My lawyer says the documents he signed are iron-clad. So technically, no. But it’s never stopped Ryan from threatening to make my life awful if I don’t.” A barely discernible tremor rippled through her voice.
I felt my temperature spike, my jaw twitch. What kind of low-life man could sleep at night after threatening a woman? My shoulder tensed beneath the beautiful head still laying on it, and I was thankful she couldn’t see my murderous expression.
I hated that Amantha had to deal with Ryan. Hated that he would be forever in her life. Her willingness to communicate with the scumbag only spoke volumes of how much she loved her son. With that thought, I bowed my head to hers, lips brushing her downcast cheek.
Amantha didn’t need my anger. She needed an ally. A safe place. And I planned on being just that. I admired the warm flush of her cheek as I pulled away.
“You are such a great mom. Anthony’s lucky to have you.”
My reverence was rewarded withthatlook again. All of my coherent thoughts vanished within that swirling gray mist.
“Ugh. Seriously?” As the song on my playlist changed, Amantha groaned and dropped my hand. “Accidentally On Purpose? Youdoknow they’re the worst band in history, right? All their songs sound the same!”
“They do not!” My attempt at offense was betrayed by my surprised laugh.
“Yesthey do! See?” Amantha tried miserably to mimic the tone of the lead singer as she sang off-key. “I know I have a car, but baby can I walk you hooooome…”
My booming laughter was drowned out beneath her tone-deaf singing.
“We’ll stare up at the stars…” Amantha began to dance around the living room.
I shouted over the noise, “If you hate the band so much, how do you know the lyrics?”
“And make one ours…” Amantha picked up my remote and held it like a microphone.
I tried to snatch it back.
“Because it’s you and me just sitting in a treeeeee?—”
I finally succeeded in stopping the horrific performance by hooking her around the waist, grabbing the remote, and tackling her gently onto the couch. Amantha was breathless from laughter.
“Never, underanycircumstance, audition for a televised singing competition,” I growled low in her ear.
