“Not a thing,” he said with pride.
“And you don’t seem to care that you know nothing. So sad.”
“Hey. I can field strip an M16 in the time it takes you to spell Van Gogh backwards. We all have our priorities. Now quit changing the subject. Your art. How’d you get into it?”
She wanted to tell him not to bother buttering her up. She’d internally agreed to sex with him, despite her prior claims that he not assume they’d eventually come together. But he looked interested. And he’d persisted in trying to talk about her tonight. Such a change from the way her dates normally progressed.
She liked his interest and decided to answer him. “I don’t know. I always liked creating things. Sculpting especially. Just model clay, nothing fancy. I can draw reasonably well, but it’s not something I can make a living doing. For that matter, neither are my current art projects,” she ended with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Not to hear Shelby tell it. She said that gallery where you work is selling a lot of your stuff.”
“The Beholder is a terrific place. And Kim’s a gem. She gives me flexible hours at the gallery, so that I can do my art and work for you during my time off.”
“I like that. But I still don’t get how you got into making paper. I mean, I think paper and I see holes and lines.”
“I used to feel the same. Then a few years ago I was bumming around an art gallery in Portland and saw a paper sculpture. The artist happened to be there at the same time, and we started talking.”
“Did he invite you to see his etchings?”
“No. She showed me her studio and took me on as an apprentice. I helped her prepare and did a lot of clean up for her, but in exchange, she helped me get started. In the garage at my apartment, I have my own paper press and materials. It’s not the best space to work, and it’s messy, but it’s my own form of expression.” She hated that she sounded defensive. A lot of artists looked down on her for her craft, but she loved it. She might not be into oils, watercolors or traditional art, but her medium worked for her.
“Sounds good to me.” Mac sat back and nodded. “Like you said, I know nothing about art. But if you made that red picture above your fireplace, I’d say you could more than earn a living selling your stuff.”
She brightened. “You liked it?” Then she immediately felt stupid. Of course he’d say what he thought she wanted to hear.
Except he looked uncomfortable. “Yeah. Not that I’m into art or anything, and I don’t know that I’d call it pretty, but I couldn’t look away from it. The piece had nice detail.” He shrugged.
“Shelby bugged the heck out of me to make her something for her birthday. She swears I’m going to be worth big money soon.” She sighed. “Maybe after I’m dead. Seems like the curse of most great artists. They’re poor until they die.” Realizing what she’d said, she corrected herself. “Not that I’m poor. But none of my work goes for millions.”
“Not yet.” Mac smiled. She saw no censure or taunting there, and she relaxed. “So The Beholder is where you work?” He frowned. “That sounds familiar. Hey, isn’t that right down the road from Shelby’s clinic?”
“How do you think she and I met? We bumped into each other years ago, and boom. Instant friendship.”
“The hot blond and sultry brunette. Fits.”
She didn’t like hearing him refer to Shelby as sultry. But the fact she felt a hint of jealousy over her boss didn’t sit well either. She hurried to ignore her weird emotions and pasted a smile on her face. “It’s nice to know you think I’m attractive, but you don’t need to keep repeating yourself.”
“Too used to hearing it, are you? I get that.” He gave a put-upon sigh. “Me too. Women are always treating me like a walking billboard for sex. It’s tough, being so manly.”
“Please.”
“No, really.” He nodded, but his innocent expression didn’t mesh with the devilry in his gaze. “Take my last girlfriend.”
“Do you even remember her name?”
He frowned. “Yeah.” He paused. “Jessica.”
“Jessica what? You don’t know, do you?”
He ignored her. “Jessica was all about my body and my wallet. I mean, I was happy to share myself with her, but I was hoping for something more.” He looked into her eyes, and the truth there shocked her. Mac wasn’t as superficial as she’d once thought. “I didn’t expect marriage or anything super serious since we’d just met, but time spent not talking about her boob job and how great she looked would have been nice. The only things she seemed to care about were herself and how much I cleared last year after taxes. Oh, and how much I could bench press.” He snorted. “I don’t lift weights to look good. I lift because it takes my mind off the fact that I’m retired.” He sneered the word.
She’d seen the scarring on his left leg and been curious but had never asked. “What happened?”
“Got shot in the knee and it never healed right. So I was medically discharged after two surgeries. Now I do physical therapy, and Shelby’s helping. It’s not like I could have stayed in the Corps forever anyway.” He acted like it was no big deal, but Maggie could tell how much being out of the service bothered him.
“That’s where you met Shane, isn’t it?” She knew Shane had served some time in the Marines.
He nodded. “He and I ran into each other a few times when I was active. Then I when I got out two years ago, I ended up seeing him on the street downtown. Weird coincidence. I mean, his folks settled just a mile from my uncle. Small world.” He smiled.
“Yeah.” They quieted and watched each other. Maggie wondered what Mac saw when he looked at her. This was the longest they’d ever talked together, and the majority of the conversation hadn’t been about Shane or Shelby.
Mac suddenly stood and cleared their plates.
“I’ll wash.” She moved to stand, but he barked at her to sit down. “Again. Do I really need to remind you I’m not a dog?”
“You know, there are so many ways I could take this conversation. But I don’t want to totally strike out. So I’m gonna put the dishes in the kitchen. You’re going to go sit in the living room, and we’ll finish up the night—”
“Getting naked?” There. She’d put her cards on the table. She wanted to have sex, so why not take what they both clearly wanted? Except the answer he gave her wasn’t what she’d anticipated.
“Watching the new detective movie on TV. And don’t even try acting like you don’t want to see it. I overheard you the other day talking to Shelby about it.”
“You have big ears.” So no on the sex, but companionship and an agreement to watch a television movie she’d been looking forward to? The man paid attention to things she liked. How…odd.
She figured out which remote to use and how to use it just as he joined her. Before she could turn the channel, he plucked the remote from her hand and settled her right next to him, hip to hip. His body heat bled through to hers, though she’d have bitten her tongue before telling him how much she liked him sitting so close.
“I am not a doll. You can’t just twist me around and bend me ov—”
His laughter made her reconsider what she’d been about to say.
“Oh, shut up and watch the movie, Jameson.”
He whispered, “Mac,” then nipped her ear.
Her entire body warmed and her nipples hardened. She thought about asking him to skip the movie and move on to the main course—them, in bed. But he pulled his head back and broke the mood. Instead, he cuddled her against his chest and put his arm around her shoulder. The movie started, and they watched together.
Maggie felt comfortable, turned on yet content.