(Super Sweet #3)
Coming soon! Stay tuned for more details.
Cat Crawford just wants to be normal—or at least as normal as a daughter of Hollywood royalty can be. And it looks like fate is granting her wish: she’s got an amazing boyfriend, Lucas; her fabulous cousin, Alessandra, living with her; and her dad planning his second marriage to a great future stepmom. That is, until her prodigal mother reveals on national television that she has something important to tell her daughter…causing a media frenzy.
Lucas Capelli knows his fate is to be with Cat, and he’s worked hard to win her over once and for all. Unfortunately, Lucas has his own issues to deal with, including a scandal that could take him away from the first place he’s truly belonged.
As secrets are revealed, rumors explode, and the world watches, Cat and Lucas discover it’s not fate they have to fight if they want to stay together…this time, it’s their own insecurities.
Well, and the stalkerazzi.
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Lucas’s smile widens and he brings his elbow back like he’s aiming for my head. He laughs at my scowl and says, “Ladies first.”
Rubbing my hands together, I survey my options. The first dab of paint on a clean canvas is always the most exciting. A new beginning that sets the tone. I decide on purple, the color of royalty (a nod to the character who inspired this date), and pitch it at the wall.
Color explodes in a burst of vivid orchid, and I slap my hand over my mouth.
That felt amazing.
“This is an excellent stress reliever,” I declare, picking up a yellow one and heaving it next. The contrasting colors are so bright, so beautiful in their dissent…so messy on the canvas. So unlike anything I’ve ever done.
My art is like me—controlled. Portraits, landscapes, photorealism. I don’t think I even colored outside the lines when I was a kid. But breaking the rules like this—with Lucas—is fun.
All traces of earlier nervousness now gone, Lucas grins as he picks up a red balloon. He winds back, and even through the clear plastic coat, I see the muscles of his bicep bunch. His weight shifts, and aiming for the clean side of the canvas, he lobs the paint at the wall. I sigh.
Why watching that was sexy, I don’t know. It just was.
After that, we go at it, lobbing color after color at the canvas, laughing and taunting each other. It’s silly, and we’re having fun, two things I definitely didn’t expect when Lucas picked me up on his motorcycle. Or when he stopped outside what looked to be a location for a horror film. But this is exactly what I needed.
Lucas gets me.
Soon the canvas is completely covered, colors blending in new shades, all of it one big blob. I haven’t become a converted abstract artist during this exercise, but I know with everything in me that I’ll be doing this again.
Lucas swipes a red balloon and tosses it in the air. When he catches it, he grins.
“You look way too clean over there,” he declares, his voice heavy with disapproval. His gaze skims over my pristine coat, and I follow suit. It’s true, not a drop of color is on me. He, on the other hand, squeezed a few balloons too hard and paint exploded all over him.
“Guess I’m just good like that,” I say with a shrug. Being totally type A doesn’t hurt, either.
“Oh, you’re definitely good.” Lucas’s left arm shoots out and snags my waist. “But unless you get some on you, I’m not sure you’ve experienced the true spontaneous spirit of balloon art.”
“Spontaneous spirit?” I palm the blue balloon he’s yet to see behind my back and smile with innocence. “You think I need to be more spontaneous?”
He nods, and the action knocks back his hood. I eye his golden curls as he leans down to brush his lips against mine once, twice, and then says against my mouth, “Yes, I’d—”
Before he finishes that thought, I smash my balloon over his head.
Of course, some paint splatters on me, too, but it’s so worth the utter look of confusion and shock that washes over him.
Blue paint oozes in his curls, and rivulets trickle down the sides of his tanned face. I laugh, loving that for once I was the one doling out the surprises…then gasp as Lucas pushes back my hood and slams his paint balloon over the back of my head.
Thick, cool liquid gushes over my unprotected hair. I squeeze my eyes shut in case any makes its way toward them, then shiver as goose pimples prick the back of my neck at the odd, icky sensation. Lucas’s mouth slams against mine, hot, eager, and passionate, and those goose pimples multiply everywhere.
Scooping me up, his mouth never leaving mine, his hands shift to my bottom. He lifts me until I wrap my legs around his plastic-covered hips, then palms the back of my paint-coated head, kissing me with an urgency I’ve never experienced before.
Making me feel wanted in a way I never thought I would.
My arms latch around his neck, and I hang on tight. I match Lucas stroke for stroke, nibble for nibble, as we pour all the fun, all the excitement, all the romance of the day into the kiss. And as the hour of my Cinderella-like curfew draws closer, I try and show Lucas just how much feeling wanted means to me.