Crazy Love by Michelle Pace Read Free Book Online Page B

slowly turned 360 degrees. Seeing those paintings was like glimpsing into the past through a peephole, and I was floored by my emotions as a lump rose in my throat. My eyes stung and when I finally inhaled, it was more like a heave. My physical response embarrassed me, and I felt juvenile…vulnerable. I was suddenly very glad they’d left me alone. A tiny part of me dared to wonder if Trip had finally managed to follow the trail of breadcrumbs out of the twisted forest he’d been lost in for so long.
    When I was finally able to propel myself onward, I joined them in the back room which I took to be his work room. A man-sized canvas loomed in the center of it, facing away from me toward the widows. Annabelle stood to one side, examining its contents with wide-eyed wonder. Trip stood on the other side, arms folded with his thumb to his lips. His eyebrows were critically drawn together as he examined his own handiwork. Curiosity gripped me and I rushed around the mammoth easel to see what it held.
    The subject of his painting was a narrow road canopied by draping oaks and Spanish moss. Shades of green dominated the large canvas. Though one side was only three-fourths completed, the detail was already phenomenal. As with the bounty of canvases in the first room, Trip had chosen dynamic shades of color. It didn’t escape me that the avenue that tunneled down the center of the painting stood conspicuously empty.
    “So you’re going to paint me naked…onto this?” Annabelle’s genuine awe charmed me, and had I not been so disturbed by the location he’d chosen for his subject, I would’ve chuckled.
    He shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’d like you to wear a white dress, if that’s alright.”
    Trip seemed to be a million miles away, his voice reflecting a quiet thoughtfulness. As I beheld his Technicolor depiction of the avenue at Wormsloe Plantation, I was awestruck by its perfect detail and optimistic vibrancy. This picture was practically a snapshot of the spot where he proposed to Violet; however, the startling colors gave it an otherworldly feel, as if the viewer were the Mad Hatter peering through the looking glass. I felt a familiar weighty pressure in my chest, and my blossoming hope for Trip’s recovery blinked out of existence.
     

 

     
     
    I chewed aggressively on the inside of my lip as Sam and I drove in silence. Just as we were leaving Trip’s place, the ashen sky dumped torrential rain down on us, and I’d insisted on giving Sam a ride. Though he’d been nothing but a master douche-lord all day, I didn’t want his catching pneumonia on my conscience.
    Trip’s jaw-dropping talent intimidated the hell out of me, but I was psyched about being a part of his latest creation. He’d told me he’d need a few days to finish the background and detail work and that he’d call me about dress shopping later in the week. Imagining hours alone with Trip intrigued me, but the way Sam was telegraphing his angst, I knew he had a lot more to say about the matter.
    “Why’d you leave law school?” Keen to redirect him, I took the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.
    I could feel his eyes boring into me, but even with the wipers on full blast, visibility sucked. I trained my sights on the road ahead, and I heard him exhale.
    “I hated it. It was a soul-sucking bore.” He sounded tired, and I snickered.
    “A bore? Well, duh. What the hell did you expect?” I stopped at a red light, and then turned to look at him. He was way too good looking. Trip had that ruffled around the edges quality, but even with his stubble Sam looked immaculate…airbrushed. I knew something had to be terribly wrong with him. “Were you failing?”
    “What?” His response was practically a whisper. He looked distracted, and he seemed to be fixated on my mouth. The way his eyes locked on my lips was incredibly hot, and I felt like my face was on fire.
    “Were you flunking out?” I pointedly enunciated each word.