Almost Perfect (14 page)

Besides, Maddy looked admirably calm.

Until she dropped her portfolio on the floor.

It landed with a splat and photos went everywhere.

Joe mobilized, crossing the room in long strides, scooping up photos as he went.

"I am so sorry," Maddy was saying as she scrambled to recover her pictures and her dignity.

"What are these?" Sylvia bent down to retrieve several pieces of colored art paper.

Maddy looked over and realized what the woman held. The oil pastels. "Oh." She straightened, alarmed at having this woman who had rejected her finished pieces see rough work. "Those are just some preliminary sketches for a new series of oils I want to do."

"Now these I like!" Sylvia announced, laying them out on the table. "Sophisticated yet playful. Vibrant colors. Very distinctive."

Distinctive
. There was the word the woman had used at least three times while flipping through the photos.
Yes, it's all very good. You clearly have talent. But your style isn't distinctive enough
. Maddy frowned at the pastels. "You really like these?"

"Definitely." Sylvia held one at arm's length. The image was the aspen trees behind the Craft Shack, done in squiggles and slashes, the shimmer of silver-green leaves against white and black trunks.

"So," Maddy ventured, "when I finish the paintings will you take a look at them?"

"Oh, good heavens, don't do that!" Sylvia gasped as if Maddy had offered to kill someone's pet. "You'll ruin them!"

"What?"

"Your oils are fine. Excellent, in fact. Perfectly conceived and perfectly executed."

"But… I thought you didn't like them."

Sylvia looked at her over the top of her glasses. "They also happen to be perfectly bland."

"Oh."

"But these. These!" She held out another image, this one of a gnarled pifion tree growing out of sunbaked boulders. "They're perfect just the way they are."

"You just said perfect was bad."

"There's perfect, then there's
perfect
. Do you have any larger pieces like these?"

"I'm afraid not. But I can do some."

"Excellent." Sylvia removed her glasses. "Here's what I'll do. If you agree to have these framed at your expense, I'll take them on consignment here in the retail showroom as a test. If they go over well, we'll talk about limited-edition prints."

"Prints?" Maddy nearly choked.

"For our next catalog."

"Prints," she repeated. The memory that had tickled her brain out in the truck clicked into place.
Images of the West
. Of course that sounded familiar! They were an art publishing company. One of many, but one of the best. She glanced around again, at the caliber of artists they represented, then looked at Joe.

He turned sheepish. Well, as sheepish as a man with his build and dark good looks can manage. "I, uh, guess I forgot to tell you this isn't a normal gallery."

"Gallery, showroom, whatever." Sylvia waved a hand. "I assume you understand I want an exclusive."

"That's, uh…" Maddy's head took a dizzy spin. If this panned out, she wouldn't be in just one gallery. She'd be in galleries across the country! "Not a problem."

"All right, then." Sylvia nodded. "Juanita will help you pick out some framing while I go to the office and get a consignment form."

Maddy managed to control her excitement during the paperwork. It broke free, though, as she and Joe left the gallery.

"Can you believe that?" she asked the minute they stepped outside. "She likes the pastels!"

"I like them too."

"Really? You mean that?"

"I do." He smiled at her as if suppressing laughter at her enthusiasm.

She didn't care if he did laugh. "She took all of them on consignment! And she wants to see more. Oh my God!" She did a little dance as they crossed the parking lot.

Joe did laugh at that. "Congratulations."

"My work is in a gallery. In Santa Fe!" She twirled about, making the skirt of her dress flare, then wrap around her legs. "And not just any gallery, but
Images of the West
. An art publishing house. I can't believe this! I can't wait to tell Christine and Amy. This is so great!"

They'd reached the truck and Joe hit the remote to unlock the doors. Maddy climbed into the passenger seat as he slipped behind the wheel.

"Oh, Joe." She crossed her hands over her heart and sighed. "This means so much to me. I can't even tell you. Why didn't you tell me this was a publishing house?"

"If I had, would you have gone in?"

"No way!" She laughed.

"Exactly. I picked this place because it looks so unassuming, I knew you wouldn't chicken out."

"You didn't expect her to take me on, did you?"

"I knew it was a long shot—but you know what they say: Start at the top. And damn, Maddy, you nailed it."

"I did." Her body sagged as realization hit her. "Holy cow, I really did." She looked at him, overcome, then threw her arms about his neck. "Thank you!"

He returned the hug without thinking. Then the feel of her in his arms slammed into his senses on one blinding wave. He closed his eyes as the impact sucked him under. Desire delivered a second blow, sending him into a roll.

Before he knew how it had happened, his hands were in her hair and his mouth was on hers. The taste of her made joy flood his veins. Her name beat in time with the pounding of his heart. After years of starving for her, he was holding Maddy, kissing Maddy.

He tipped his head and deepened the contact, thrilling to the feel of her kissing him back the way she always had—with an eagerness to match his own. His whole body came alive as their mouths opened and mated. He wanted to lift her over the gearshift and onto his lap, slip his hands under her dress and feel her warm skin. She moaned again, and arched toward him as if wanting the same thing.

Maddy! His heart sang. He was kissing Maddy!

Good God!

His brain kicked in and his body froze.

He was kissing Maddy!

He jerked back and held her at arm's length, his pulse pounding like surf against rocks. She stared back at him, her eyes wide, her breath coming as hard and fast as his. "What just happened here?"

She blinked as if stunned. "I don't know."

Releasing her as if she'd turned to fire, he plastered his back against the truck door. "We are not doing this."

"I think we just did."

"It was habit." He put his hands on the steering wheel. "A knee-jerk reaction. Put us in a vehicle and
bam
, we're back in high school making out in the front seat of the Colonel's station wagon."

"Actually, it usually progressed to the back of the station wagon." She looked at the bed of his pickup. "I don't think that's a good idea, considering where we're parked. Unless we want to get arrested for public indecency."

"I don't care where we're parked." His hand shook as he inserted the key into the ignition. "This will not happen again."

"Of course not." Maddy clasped her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead. "Not if you don't want it to."

"I don't." Was she saying she did? The thought made him edgy with panic as he drove out of the parking lot. What had he been thinking to kiss her like that? Or had she kissed him? He honestly didn't remember. The only thing he knew was that barely forty-eight hours had passed, and already she was slipping past his defenses. Had he learned nothing from his last go-round with this woman?

The Rangers had taught him how much physical pain his body could endure, but he refused to spend the summer letting Maddy back inside his heart, only to have her walk away come fall. That much pain he couldn't handle.

Chapter 9

The minute Maddy returned to the safety of the camp, she shot an e-mail to Christine and Amy.

Subject:
Help
!

Message:
Something happened today, and I'm totally freaked out I think I'm falling in love with Joe all over again. Only, this is different than before. Even scarier somehow. I'm not ready for this. Not with anyone. And especially not this fast. How do I stop it
?

Amy:
Whoa, wait, back up. What happened
?

Maddy:
Joe kissed me. Or I kissed him. It's kind of a blur. He took me to some galleries today, and everything was going great. In fact, one of the galleries took some of my work. (Details later, I promise. You're going to be ecstatic.) When we got back to his truck, both of us were excited, and the next thing I know, we're kissing. And it was like WOW! I'm not sure I've ever had a kiss like that. Not even with Joe
.

Then suddenly he got angry
—
whether at me or himself, I'm not sure
—
and he made it clear he has

no interest in getting involved with me ever again. So now things are even more awkward than they were this time yesterday. Help! What do I do?

Amy:
Okay, first, CONGRATULATIONS on the gallery!!! I can't wait to hear details. Now, back to Joe. When you say he doesn't want to get involved, does that mean you do
?

Maddy sat back as the air left her lungs in a whoosh. She remembered that moment at the Ore House, when he'd let his barriers down enough for her to see the wonderful man he'd become. In some ways he was still the wounded rebel, but he was also strong, compassionate, responsible, and endearingly enthusiastic even when he tried to hide it. But he'd certainly slammed those barriers back down in a hurry.

Her hands shook as she typed out her reply: /
don't know. I'm attracted to him on several levels. Definitely no denying that. If he were a stranger, I'd date him in a heartbeat. Nigel's been gone nearly two years. I need to start dating again sometime, and Joe
—
this new Joe
—is
a really great guy. But he's not a stranger, and he wants nothing to do with me. I dread the thought of facing him again at dinner. What a disaster
.

Amy:
Maybe he will have calmed down by then, and the two of you can get back to where you were before the kiss
.

Maddy hoped so. Her nerves remained tangled though, as she waited for dinner.

Unfortunately, she returned from the dining hall that evening more shaken and confused than ever. She found an e-mail from Christine asking for details about the gallery. It ended with:
As for Joe getting bent out of shape over the kiss
—
which