Cookies for Courting (2 page)

“You may call me Marshall. After all, if this works out, you’ll be painting in my home.”

“Thank you.” Pace turned his attention forward.

The elevator dinged again.

“This is us.” Marshall waved his hand toward the elevator doors as they opened.

“Oh, thank you. I would’ve missed it. I often get lost when I’m daydreaming.” A whimsical smile crossed Pace’s face as if he were inviting Marshall to laugh along with him.

Marshall shook his head. He didn’t understand much about people who lived their lives floating in the clouds. He’d always been too practical to be much of a dreamer.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t bond with Alice. She looked so much like his twin sister, Anna, some days it hurt to look at her. Marshall knew he still hadn’t dealt with Anna’s death, but he didn’t have time to grieve. He had a company to run and a little girl to care for. He couldn’t replace his sister, but he’d give Alice the best environment possible and if she wanted a castle in her bedroom, she’d damn well get it.

This gorgeous artist might just be what a serious little girl in mourning needed.

He walked beside Pace as they traversed the maze to his office. “I am interviewing three artists today. I’ll let you know by the end of the day if you reach the second round of interviews. My niece will have the final say. If she doesn’t like whoever I pick, I won’t hesitate to replace them.”

“Makes sense. It’s her room, after all. May I ask how old she is?”

“Eight going on thirty-five,” Marshall said in a wry tone.

Pace laughed. “I hear ya. My cousin has some kids. They all seem wise above their years, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.” Marshall nodded. They reached the reception area. “Why don’t you wait here while I see what my assistant has arranged?”

“Sure, no problem.” Pace settled down in one of the upholstered seats with a smile.

“Hey, Joyce, I found one of your artists. Is Pace up first?” Normally, he’d leave this sort of thing to Joyce, but the person would be in his condo and he wanted to meet them and screen them before they met Alice. Each artist would also go through a rigorous background check to make sure they didn’t have a criminal record. He didn’t want to bring in an unsuitable character around his impressionable niece.

“Yes. Why don’t you get settled, then I’ll send him on in?”

“Thanks.” The things he wanted to do to Pace would take so much time he wouldn’t get a mural painted this century. Maybe he should choose someone else. Marshall shook his head. It went against his ethics to penalize the artist because Marshall wanted to fuck him against his desk.

Marshall went into his office. Crossing the room, he slid his briefcase onto the floor beside his desk, then sat down in his chair. He opened his e-mails and scanned them to make sure nothing important was waiting for his attention. He answered a few and asked for clarification on a contract in another. Once he’d sunk into the business mind-set and his erection had gone down, he pushed the intercom button.

“Go ahead and send Pace in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marshall resisted the urge to laugh. The only time Joyce talked in that deferential tone was when other people were around. She’d been around too long to keep yessirring him every time he made a request.

Pace entered the room, a wide smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you again.”

Marshall stood and shook hands, enjoying the confident touch and the rough skin on Pace’s fingers. He wondered if art caused the calluses or if Pace had a hobby that prevented them from staying smooth. Marshall enjoyed art but knew little about artists.

He forced his fingers to relax their hold. He could easily imagine his hands sliding across Pace’s skin in a more intimate encounter. He swallowed back a groan. He needed to stop thinking like that if he wished to stay focused for this interview.

“Please have a seat and show me your portfolio while you tell me a little about yourself.”

Pace’s bright smile reappeared. “They are sort of the same thing.”

“What are?”

“My art and myself.” Pace settled down in the chair across from Marshall. He looked around. “It might be easier to show you on the couch.”

The black leather couch he’d bought because it suited the office interior mocked Marshall with its long flat surface.

Marshall cleared his throat. “No, just scoot closer to the desk. This is fine.”

No way could he trust himself with a sexy artist, a lockable door, and an extremely comfortable piece of furniture. Marshall sometimes napped on that couch if he had to stay late at work or attend a dinner meeting. He knew he could lie completely flat with plenty of room for a hot artist to ride his cock.

“Is there a problem?” Pace frowned.

“Um, no.” Marshall discreetly thumped his cock, then wiggled in his seat. “Please show me what you have.”

He’d wait until the job was finished before he pursued any romantic interests. Surely, it couldn’t take that long to paint a mural. He could wait a few weeks before he jumped Pace.

Pace licked his lips as he opened the binder.

Scratch that. Maybe he could wait a few hours. Marshall made a note to go to a club tonight and find a willing body, preferably a blond.

When Pace opened his portfolio, Marshall forgot about his attraction for a bit. Page after page of photos revealed a man with a brilliant, rare talent. Each painting brought an extra vibrancy to the rooms they graced. Although the art wasn’t all something he could see in his own home, he admired the skill behind it.

“Which one did you do for Mrs. Breverton? She raved about hers.” Marshall couldn’t contain his curiosity over what this free-spirited man could possibly have created for the uptight matriarch.

Mrs. Breverton rarely said a kind word about anyone, but she couldn’t say enough nice things about Pace. Marshall had imagined an uptight, buttoned-up professor-type who had students doing the hard work. Pace wasn’t even close to Marshall’s mental image.

Pace flipped through a couple of pages. “This one!” He pointed to the photo on the left side.

Marshall spun the portfolio around to get a better look. “Wow!”

“It was for her garden room.”

A riotous collection of flowers covered the wall. Looking closer, Marshall spied exotic birds peering through the petals, giving off the impression of an enchanted tropical hideout.

“It’s beautiful.” Pace’s attention to detail had Marshall turning the photo this way and that to see as much as possible. “How long did it take?”

“That one took four months, but only because of all the details and she kept changing her mind.”

Marshall laughed at Pace’s wry tone. “Well, in the end, she was pleased. She went on and on about how much she liked it.”

“Good. I like to hear about happy clients.” The words were routine, but Pace’s tone conveyed that he really did want his customers to be happy.

“Like I said, you must know it is stunning.”

Pace shrugged. “People look for different things in their art, but I was happy with how it came out,” Pace said with a fascinating show of modesty.

The more contact he had with the sweet artist, the more Marshall wanted to devour him. He curled his fingers around the edges of the desk to resist the urge to grab Pace closer.

“Are you all right?” Pace asked.

Marshall nodded. He took a long, deep breath, then exhaled. He did this a few more times and his surge of lust faded as he concentrated on his breathing instead of his cock. “Sorry, I just needed a minute.”

Pace patted Marshall’s right hand. “Take your time.”

“Don’t touch me.”

Pace snatched back his fingers. “Oh, sorry.”

The hurt expression on his face had Marshall confessing, “Look, I’m just going to put this out there, and if you don’t want to apply for the job, I’ll completely understand.”

“Is there a problem? Is it because I’m gay?”

Marshall’s laugh broke in the middle as hysteria almost swamped him. What had happened to the cool, confident man his previous dates had complained of lacking passion?

“I want you. I want to take you over to the couch and fuck your brains out. Now, I’m not going to because that would be unethical. I don’t want you to think you got this job or were rejected due to any sexual attraction between us.”

Pace’s eyes brightened. “So you’re saying that no matter what, if you hire me, you are going to hire me based on my worth alone?”

“Yes.”

“Good, and I appreciate the warning.” Pace walked around the desk.

“What are you doing?” Marshall scooted back.

“Checking something.” Pace climbed onto Marshall’s lap, sliding one leg on either side and straddling Marshall’s hips.

Before Marshall could object, Pace wrapped his arms around Marshall’s neck and plastered him with the hottest kiss this side of an inferno.

Marshall groaned. He cupped Pace’s ass and squeezed. Pace whimpered against his mouth. Their erections pressed together through their clothing.

Marshall tore his mouth away, then patted Pace’s butt. “Go sit over there so I can look at your portfolio.”

“Okay.” Pace’s breathless tone almost had Marshall grabbing him tight.

Pace took a deep breath. “I’d apologize for my unprofessional behavior, but I want you to fuck me too. Badly.”

Marshall groaned. He could feel the flush on his skin, and Pace’s high color only made the man appear more adorable. “Let’s finish looking at your art.”

“Whatever you say,” Pace said.

Marshall refused to look directly at Pace again, putting his attention on the pictures. “If I had your skill, I’d tell everyone what a great artist I am.” He dared to look up at Pace.

Pace shrugged, his brown eyes glowing with amusement. “There are a lot of talented artists.”

Marshall flipped to the next page. It was a shame how society treated artistic souls. Marshall knew many people who got rich and created nothing. They merely moved money back and forth and made millions. Here was a man who created giant pieces of beauty and probably lived hand-to-mouth.

After ten minutes of asking basic questions about technique, rough cost estimates, and work styles, Marshall cleared his throat. “I have to interview the other artists, but I am quite impressed with what I’ve seen here.” He let his gaze slide up and down Pace’s body.

“Thank you. Your assistant has my number. I’ll be able to give you a better estimate once I see the space.”

Marshall nodded. “Joyce will call you either way, and so will I.” He let his need slide into his voice. He would leave the business end to Joyce, but Marshall would be talking to the artist again. Pace could decide if he wanted to date Marshall or not.

Pace grinned. “I look forward to your call.”

They stood and shook hands.

“Nice meeting you,” Marshall said.

“Same here.” With a carefree smile and a wave, Pace turned and left the room.

Marshall interviewed two other artists, one woman with a nervous twitch that began to make Marshall feel uneasy, and a man who seemed to specialize in works with a lot of angst.

“I think there is only one choice,” Marshall said to Joyce after he finished talking to all three artists.

“But can you resist the pretty, pretty man?” Joyce teased. She’d been with Marshall for ten years, ever since he struck out on his own. He’d been with her through her divorce and subsequent second marriage, and she’d seen all of Marshall’s dating disasters. She knew all his weaknesses, including his taste in men.

Marshall flashed her a look of mock reproof. “What makes you think he’s my type?”

Joyce laughed. “Gorgeous talented men are anyone’s type. Besides, he’d be much better than those stuffy men you usually date. It might be worth it to see the fireworks.”

“Maybe.”

Only the thought of breaking the heart of such a free-spirited creature held him back.

“Want me to arrange for him to meet Alice?” Joyce asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yeah, have someone take him to my place. He can check out the site and give me a more accurate quote. If Alice hates him, we won’t have to go any further.”

He couldn’t imagine anyone hating Pace, but children had their own set of rules when it came to people they trusted. Marshall wasn’t completely certain Alice liked him, and he was her uncle.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Joyce said.

“Yeah, of course it will.” To hate someone, Alice would have to show emotion. Since the death of her mother, Alice had withdrawn into herself. The laughing girl with sparkling blue eyes had turned into a tiny shadow. She drifted around the condo, only leaving to attend school. When she came back home at the end of the day, she went to her room and played on her iPad. She rarely spoke and only if spoken to.

Marshall had hired a woman named Georgia to take care of Alice when she got home and escort Alice to her dance classes. The driver picked Alice up from her private school, and Georgia watched her until Marshall came home. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Marshall ran a multimillion-dollar company. Leaving early just wasn’t an option.

“I’ll arrange a time for him to go and meet Alice. I’ll make sure to be there to see their interaction.”

“Perfect.” Marshall leaned back in his chair, pleased his assistant was taking care of this. He needed to restrict his contact with the artist until Pace finished his work. After that, he’d get to know his object of fascination much better. Screwing Pace in the middle of a project probably wasn’t a good idea. If they broke up, Alice would be left with a half-painted room.

Marshall sighed. His body ached from the memory of Pace rubbing against him. He wondered how long his resolve would last.

P
ACE
COULDN
’
T
stop smiling. Joyce’s call that morning had made his day. He loved to do murals, and the thought of the sexy executive in his bed sweetened the incentive to take the job. If he could get Marshall between the sheets, he might not even charge the man.

Joyce had asked him to meet her at Marshall’s condo so he could meet Alice and check out the worksite. He loved visualizing where his work would go, and he’d spent his time before their meeting drawing some preliminary sketches.