The Dangerous Curves Series

Chapter 91

“Why would we mind?” Jax said. “You go on with Naomi and figure your stuff out. I’ll get Sarah home.”

King and Naomi watched as Jax gently lifted Sarah to her feet, supporting her. He helped her put on her coat, and Naomi almost sighed at the way that Jax’s hands moved over Sarah’s body. He was slow, careful, loving. Despite his rough demeanor, he handled that woman like she was the most precious thing in the world, and Naomi felt a chasm of loneliness as large and wide as the Grand Canyon open up inside her.

What would it be like to be the center of a man’s universe, just for once in my life? To have him treat me with nothing but respect and care? To touch me like I was valuable and cherished?

King held the door for his friends, watched them walk out to Jax’s truck. Sarah was leaning on him heavily and King felt worried. She hadn’t looked this weak in quite a while, and he hoped all she needed was a good sleep. God knows, she’d been through more than enough, and if anyone deserved some peace, it was her.

“You think she’s OK?” Naomi asked him, her beautiful face troubled.

“I hope so.” King sighed. “She’s been through hell, and she just keeps fighting, you know? Today is the first time that I’ve seen her admit to being tired, though, so it must be bad.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Naomi shook herself. “OK, so. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

King gave her a slow smile. “I’m all yours.”

Argh. Why did everything that the man say or do have to sound and look so damn sexy? She’d told Mirrie that Matt had shown up at Dangerous Curves and breathed and looked unnervingly gorgeous while doing so, and she actually hadn’t been kidding. There he stood in front of her now – just breathing, damn him – and she was barely able to keep herself from leaping at him.

The fabric of that t-shirt was thin enough for her to see the curves of his chest and abs through it, no problem. The large, taut muscles rose and fell with his every breath, approaching and then retreating, teasing and tantalizing her. When he absently ran one massive hand over the back of his neck, every muscle in his arm tensed and flexed, even just with that simple, casual movement. He was dark, and dangerous, and the most astonishingly scorching hot man she’d ever seen. She’d had no idea that men like Matt Kingston were running around loose out there, all hard eyes and hard edges, and the knowledge scared her about to death.

“OK, great.” Her voice came out cool and confident, thank God. “This way.”

She led him through the small reception area, and into an enormous open-space room. It was busy and noisy and as always, she felt her spirits rise as she looked around.

“Wow.” King stopped, a bit stunned. “It’s massive, Naomi.”

“Yeah, I know. This obviously used to be a warehouse, and it had already been partially-converted for commercial purposes when I bought it two years ago. I love the open-plan concept, so I left it as it was.”

King stared around him, trying to take it all in. Huge windows lined the room, providing good light and amazing views of the Rocky Mountains under a blazing blue sky. The floors were dark wood, and there were easels and tables of art supplies scattered around all over the place. He saw a shelf overflowing with art books over in the corner, a bunch of art magazines on a long table, some handmade vases with cheerful flowers. It was so warm and welcoming, and he imagined it had to be an amazing creative space for the artists.

They walked around a bit, Naomi introducing him to some of the artists and the staff. He glanced at the easels as they passed by, and he was shocked at what he saw. Some of the paintings were amazing, and he was a bit shaken at the amount of sheer unrecognized talent standing around the room.

“My God,” he said. “It’s beautiful work.”

Her dark eyes sparkled at him. “And these are just the painters.”

“Yeah.” King look around. “Where does Callie do all her pottery and sculpture?”

“Over here.”

She led him down a hallway and past several open doors. These were smaller rooms, but still a good size, with high ceilings and more large windows. In one of the biggest rooms, there was obviously a class of some kind going on, and everyone looked at them over their pottery wheels.

King nodded at the students and they stared back, many of them expressionless, some afraid. He knew from his sister, Callie’s Mom, that Naomi had staff experienced in dealing with autistic adults, and they handled any outbursts or panic attacks. He wondered how often these things happened; when they entered the now-empty sketching room, he asked her about that.

“Oh, it happens.” She sat on a table. “Especially when someone first starts here. They can feel overwhelmed at the huge change in their routine, and with being surrounded by strangers. What we find really helps is if the artists bring some headphones and listen to music. Something familiar and calming really gives them a sense of privacy and control.”

King nodded. “You think Noah will settle in alright?”