Truth in Watercolors (Truth Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

nudged me with his leg under the table. My head snapped in his direction. “You’re a great artist, one of the best I’ve seen.”
    My narrowed eyes widened when I saw it. The warmth. It was there again in his eyes. I studied the downturn of their corners while his voice rumbled on. The different shades in his eyes seemed to be in stumbled strokes throughout his irises. Could that be where the warmth came from? Or was it from the way the darkened hues separated, almost like the dry stroke of a brush to allow lighter hues to shine through?
    “C?” His voice was softer now, reserved just for me.
    “Huh?” I pushed out the question faintly at the touch of his hand on my knee under the table, and I pulled myself from the depths of his eyes.
    “Help me out with the mural?” he said giving my knee a small squeeze from where his hand still rested on it.
    I should really say no. Decline and make up an excuse why I couldn’t paint with Wes. However, the tenderness in his touch and the encouragement in those damn eyes had the word yes tumbling from the forefront of my mind and onto my lips.
    “There you are.” A smoky voice stopped me from speaking. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
    A tall and slender girl stood at the table just behind Wes. She placed her palm on his shoulder and tossed her corkscrewed hair from her face. She looked wild. I bet Wes liked wild.
    I sat back into my chair and turned back toward the group for the first time since I’d locked eyes with Wes. The looks on their faces said plenty. Lennon smirked, and I flipped her off. Kensie smiled, and I smiled back. August’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and I stuck my tongue out at him.
    “I wanted to tell you that the tattoo you did for me last week is healing nicely,” the girl’s smoky voice purred across the wooden tabletop. I was sure I could have hidden the disgusted grunt that came from my chest, but I didn’t.
    “Oh yeah? Is it looking good?” Wes asked excitedly and almost innocently. I could have held back the curl of my lips, but I didn’t. He wasn’t stupid. He had to know what she was up to, and he was playing right into her.
    “It’s perfect.” She dragged her hand from his shoulder and moved it to the waistline of her jeans. “Come me with to the bathroom, and I’ll show you.” Her fingers gripped onto the button of her jeans.
    Absolutely not.
    I shoved out of my chair, causing the whole bar to hear the screech. I yanked my white tank down covering the button on my jeans and strut my way to the bar. I heard my name called in various ways from various voices, but I didn’t turn back. I wasn’t going to sit by and pretend to ignore Wes and yet another one of his harlots.
    I didn’t know why I let his female endeavors get to me, but I did. Time and time again, my heart would cringe and my stomach would turn with the parade of women Wes encountered. One after the other, they’d come and go. Sometimes I wanted to call him out on his impulsive conduct, and other times I wanted to shout at the harlots to treat him with a little respect. Every time, though, I bit back the words and pushed them back down into my chest.
    I sat down at one of the stools and waited for the bartender’s attention. “Be with you in a sec, beautiful.” He winked at me and continued to attend to the customers before me.
    He was a handsome guy, gorgeous actually. He was tall with mocha-colored skin and a closely shaved head. He and I had gone out a few times, but we were at two very different places in our lives. Did I mention he was ten years older than I was? Yeah, it didn’t work out well when I was twenty-one and he was thirty-one. Wes was much closer to my age, still older, but we had a lot in common. Stop thinking about Wes .
    “Can I buy you a drink?” I turned to politely decline but changed my mind when I saw the guy asking me. He was hot with intentionally disheveled hair and a boyish smile that held a small gap between