"I thought you were treating me to ice cream, Lovette. This isn't ice cream." 

My smile was unavoidable as I reached for my second cherry Danish. When we first left the loft, I had every intention of buying Ollie some ice cream. Because truth be told, I was a sore loser. But as we started walking towards the ice cream shop not too far from where we stayed, I couldn't ignore the aroma coming from my favorite place:  La Rose De Baguette. 

"No, it's not," I replied, and my smile got bigger. "It's better." I took a few more bites, savoring the fruity sweet flavor before I reached for my napkin and dabbed at the corners of my mouth. "I still can't believe we haven't run into each other here before that day in the loft. I mean, I've been here literally every day since I landed in Paris." 

"Only a day? Lovette, I've been here twice, sometimes three times a day. Paris has made me develop one helluva sweet tooth." 

My eyes roamed over his body. It sure didn't look like he ate a lot of sweets. If anything, he looked like he's been working out. Which was surprising since Ollie wasn't the gym type. He was the nerdy artist type. 

Of course, that didn't mean he didn't have a jaw dropping body that I happened to see partially naked one time in a certain hotel room a year ago.

And when I did see it? Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

That man had a physique that haunted my dreams over the past twelve months. At first, I tried to get him out of my head. Tried not to dream about him. But after my mom...

Let's just say I welcomed the subconscious distraction. The nights I dreamt of Ollie were the only ones where I got any sleep.

"You're drooling."

That deep voice ripped me from my very inappropriate thoughts and my eyes met his.

"What?" 

"You're drooling." A corner of his mouth lifted into a very sexy I-know-what-you're-thinking-about smile.
"Any you're staring. Should I ask what's going on in that head of yours?"

Busted.

It took sheer willpower not to reach for a napkin and wipe my mouth again. Because I probably was drooling. "For your information, Ollie, I wasn't drooling. This Danish is just very delicious. And as for staring, I was only thinking about how you must have a really fast metabolism considering how much pasta and dessert you eat. Nothing more." 

"Right," he said with a chuckle before reaching for his coffee. "So, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Why? Do you want to cheat me while playing another board game?" 

Another one of those annoyingly sexy chuckles. "Sadly, no. I really have to try to get some work done tomorrow. If I don't come up with some new paintings soon, I might be the one looking for a place to stay." 

"Your boss wouldn't really do that to you, would he?" 

Jeez. I felt guilty enough about everything that's happened over the past year. Hell, maybe for more than that. I didn't need to add guilt for Ollie losing this big commission job or ending up on the street. 

"Nah," Ollie said with a shrug. I'm kidding. He might ride my ass, but he's a pretty good guy. As long as he doesn't have to push the art show, I should be fine." 

Something he said really caught my attention. My memory flashed to that day I was sitting at this very cafe, looking at my very expensive hotel receipt on my email when a young guy handed me a flyer for an upcoming art show. 

"Art show? What art show?" 

Ollie finished his apple Danish before leaning back in his chair. "Well, my boss offered me a commission job of furnishing his homes and offices with paintings he requested." 

"Wait...did you say homes? As in more than one?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "They're loaded. Anyway, so when I got here and we met, we really hit it off. He was really impressed with my portfolio, so he offered to host an art show to showcase my art."

My mind was literally blown away by his words. I knew he was a talented painter, but I also knew an art show was no small thing. "Ollie, that's amazing. Congratulations on the show. How many paintings will you have for sale?" 

Now Ollie was the one with the guilty look on his face. "He wants me to have ten paintings for the show. He invited a bunch or art dealers and stuff so there is actual opportunity here. I'm just trying not to let him down." 

Oh, yeah. I knew all about not wanting to disappoint people. "How many paintings do you have now." 

His eyes met mine and all humor disappeared completely. "Three." 

Oh shit. I remember what that flyer said. If it was right... "And when's the art show?" 

"Less than two weeks away." 

My mouth dropped. "Less than...I know you said you were having some painter's block, but this is bad, Ollie." 

"I know. But don't worry about it. I'll manage." 

"Don't worry about it?" My mouth dropped even more now. Was this man crazy. "Ollie, ever since I got here all you did was drag me out of the loft, take me to random parts of Paris, dinner, cheat me in Monopoly-"

"I didn't cheat." 

"-and now you're saying you have less than two weeks to complete seven paintings?" Feeling defeated, I slouched in my chair. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry. This is completely my fault." 

His brows drew together. "Wait, what? No, it isn't—"

"I've been distracting you and keeping you from your job."

Ollie leaned across the table and pressed his index fingers against my lips. It was his go-to whenever I started rambling. "Jamie, zip it. This isn't your fault. I was lacking inspiration before you even showed up at the warehouse."

"Really?" I was less than convinced. "You expect me to believe that?" 

"Yes, because it's true. Look if anything, you being here actually helps give me some inspiration." 

That had me rolling my eyes. "Oh really? What am I your muse or something?"

"Or something," he replied with a charming smile. "I'm not lying to you, Lovette. Just hanging out with you is helping. I actually started working on a new painting last night." 

"Really. What is it?" 

"Remember that vineyard I took you to? Well, I started painting that. With my own personal spin on it of course. It's in my studio. You're welcome to come see for yourself if you don't believe me." 

There was a tiny part of me that did believe him. But I also knew Ollie. And he would say anything to keep me from feeling guilty. So, I decided to call him on his bluff. 

I put some cash on the table to settle the bill before saying, "Yeah. I want to see it." 

Fifteen minutes later Ollie and I were standing in the middle of his studio where there was a large piece of canvas sitting on an easel. A painting that was about twenty-five percent done and clearly had the setting of the vineyard he took me to. 

I glanced over to Ollie who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Nothing but pure arrogance on his face.

"Well?" He asked. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" 

Heavy sigh from me. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I honestly thought you were just trying to make me feel less guilty that you haven't been painting." 

"It's all good," he said with a laugh. Then he got serious and took a few steps towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. "If I'm being honest, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to make sure you didn't feel guilty. About anything, Jamie." 

Ollie's voice was deep and strong. Filled with hidden meanings I couldn't place. It was almost as if...no. There was no way he could know. He was just being sweet and caring. Same old Ollie. 

Yeah, for sure. That's exactly what it was. 

But if that was true, then why did I have an odd feeling in my gut? 

In a quick attempt to change the subject, I cleared my throat and offered him a teasing expression. "You may have been right about this painting. But that doesn't mean I'm your muse. For all I know, you could have started it a month ago since you said you've been there already." 

Ollie shook his head before a chuckled deep. "Holy shit, Lovette. You're a piece of work." He walked over to the painting and very carefully lifted it off the easel before turning it around so I could see the back. "What does it say in the top right corner?"

I didn't even need to read it. I already knew he was telling the truth. Again. But I found myself saying with a heavy sigh, "It's dated the night you took me to the vineyard."

He returned the painting to the easel. "Once again, you called me a liar. And I proved you wrong." 

Now it was my turn to cross my arms over my chest. "Well...what about me being your muse or something?"

"God, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met," he laughed. 

Suddenly his eyes darked to his workstation before quickly meeting mine again. 

"You win. About the muse thing," he said softly. "So, do you want some coffee? I can really use some."

What I wanted was to walk over to his workstation and see what he was trying to hide from me. But I couldn't very well do that with him standing right there. 

"Yeah. Coffee sounds great. Do you mind getting it started? I need to run up to my room for something." 

"Sure." He shrugged. "I'll meet you in the kitchen." 

"Sounds good." 

As soon as he walked out of the studio I hurried to his workstation. I immediately recognized that same sketch book he had been drawing in when I met him in that coffee shop. I started skimming through the pages until I saw it. 

The first drawing was of me in that same coffee shop. I was glancing straight ahead, coffee in hand and my red curls hanging loose. 

The second was of me the night that I went up to his apartment with him. When I was standing in front of my favorite painting, him by my side. 

The third was from Harper's wedding. This one was of me when I was laying in that big king size bed in my hotel room. I was wearing my dress, the strap hanging off my shoulder. My hair was a mess.

But the way he captured me here...

I couldn't let myself think about that.

Then there was the fourth one. The last one. It was a profile of me when I was leaning against the railing of the very vineyard that was partially painted on the canvas next to me. 

My mind flashed back to the cafe earlier tonight...

"Oh really? What am I your muse or something?"

"Or something," he replied with a charming smile.

Or something was right. Calling myself his muse seemed a bit of an understatement. 

"You coming, Lovette? This coffee's getting cold."

"Coming!" I called back before I slammed the sketch book shut. 

I couldn't deal with this right now. Seeing those sketches did something to me. Changed something inside me. Problem was I didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

And that's what scared me. 

***

Hey all! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm making great progress on this story and I'm really enjoying writing it for you guys. 

Next chapter is in the works and I'll give you a little hint as to who the POV...
Nathan or Karma! Take a guess in the comments!

xoxo