Zane's Art Read online

  Title Page

  Zane’s Art

  A Finally Ever After Story

  Sara Daniel

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  An imprint of

  Musa Publishing

  Copyright Information

  Zane’s Art, Copyright © Sara Daniel, 2012

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

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  Musa Publishing

  633 Edgewood Ave

  Lancaster, OH 43130

  www.musapublishing.com

  ...

  Published by Musa Publishing, October 2012

  ...

  This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

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  ISBN: 978-1-61937-318-1

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  Editor: E. Schraeder

  Cover Design: Kelly Shorten

  Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna

  Content Warning

  This book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.

  Dedication

  For Karen, teacher extraordinaire.

  I am so lucky to count my sister-in-law as one of my best friends.

  Chapter One

  “CANCEL THE AUCTION.”

  Julianne Truman’s head snapped around at the hard male voice. The stapler fell from her hand and cracked open on the floor as she caught sight of the extraordinary face that went with the voice. Her knees shook as she climbed down the ladder. She hadn’t faced Zane DeMonde in nearly fifteen years. At one time she’d believed he’d be part of every single day of her future.

  “Zane, I didn’t expect you to come.” She stepped toward him. His black hair was a little shorter than the last time she’d seen him, but at shoulder length it was still far longer than most men’s. Gone were the black hoodie and ripped jeans of his youth. Now he wore chinos and a sharply pressed blue button-down shirt, open at the neck.

  The dark storms in his cobalt blue eyes were exactly the same as the day he’d walked away from her. “Cancel the auction. The sketches and painting are not for sale.”

  She swallowed. “I own them. If I choose to sell them, that’s my business.” And it was breaking her heart to part with the only piece of him that she’d been able to hang onto all these years.

  “When they have my name on them, and you’re getting rich off me, it’s my business.”

  Getting rich was so far from the truth Julianne would have laughed if her chest weren’t so tight. “It’s an honor to have you back in town.” At least her students would think so. Her brother would likely burst an artery. And she—well, she couldn’t even begin to process the mix of emotions she was feeling. “Do you have a minute to talk? I can explain what’s going on.”

  “I know what’s going on.”

  She hoped he couldn’t hear how hard her heart was hammering or sense how desperately she longed to wrap her arms around him and pick up where they left off fifteen years ago, as if he’d never left her. “Then you know that the arts are at the bottom of the school district’s priority list. To have supplies for the classroom, to restore the school mural, to give my students a chance to explore different mediums, the art program needs an alternate source of funding.”

  “You’re the Dentonville High art teacher?”

  She couldn’t help feeling defensive at his derisive tone. “Yes, and I love my job.”

  “Do you? Or have you never moved beyond your high school life?”

  The facts built a strong case for his point. She’d fallen in love with him as they’d worked on the art mural for the school. He was her first, and she’d assumed he’d be her only. Weeks before high school graduation, her twin brother discovered they’d been sleeping together. Convinced Zane was a loser who’d only hurt her, he’d fought Zane for her “honor.” Both boys were suspended. Zane left town, and she’d never seen him again. Until now.

  “You’re right,” she said.

  Zane did his best to keep his surprise from showing. Most people weren’t in touch enough with their issues to understand their life choices, and if they did, they certainly weren’t going to admit anything that would leave them open to ridicule.

  Julianne should have used the opening to lash out at him for the way he’d used her and left her. But she had been like no one he’d ever known, and the possibility that she hadn’t changed intrigued him. “How about we go out to dinner? You can explain to me why you’re still stuck in Dentonville High, and I’ll explain what I’m prepared to offer in exchange for you canceling the auction.”

  “I’d be flattered to go to dinner with the famed Zane DeMonde.” She pressed her hands to her chest, and he tried not to remember how his hands had once had permission to splay across her body and caress her breasts. “But I have no intention of canceling the auction. It means everything to my students.”

  “We’ll talk about it at dinner.” She would cancel the auction, as soon as he told her how much he planned to pay her to buy back the artwork. That was all he’d planned to do—buy back the artwork, not take her to dinner, not discuss the “good old days.” But seeing her again, he wasn’t so sure that he’d moved beyond high school either.

  “We can go to Gippi’s. It’s still the town gathering place, so it’ll be crowded on a Friday night,” Julianne said, picking up the stapler from the floor and closing it. “Or if you want something nicer or quieter, we can drive out of town.”

  He didn’t want an intimate dinner. He wasn’t trying to seduce her back into his life. People came to Gippi’s for the best thin crust pizza in central Illinois. It was the perfect place to show them he wasn’t the loser they all thought when he’d left town. Fifteen years ago, he might not have been good enough for Julianne Truman. But now he certainly was. “Gippi’s sounds great.”

  “Okay. Let me put a couple things away.” She took the stapler and a stack of pen and ink drawings mounted on construction paper to the art room.

  Zane followed her, more curious than he wanted to admit about the old times. The moment he stepped into the room, he was sucked in by the familiar smell of clay, acrylic paints, charcoal, and the ever-present hint of motor oil from the shop class next door. “It feels like I’m seventeen again,” he muttered. “How can you stand to relive it every day?”

  Julianne touched his shoulder. “Are the memories really all bad?”

  He looked into her eyes that most people would call hazel, but that would be missing the dark olive green around the outside, the russet brown near the pupil, and golden flecks that ebbed and flowed according to her emotions. He should know. He’d spent more time lost in them than he had creating the school mural, and they’d spent countless hours on that ode to idyllic school life. “If I have any good ones, they’d be from this room.”

  Julianne’s gaze shuttered but not before he saw the disappointment cloud over her hope. He’d meant his good memories w
ere all connected with art, which had included her. But she’d taken him literally at his word. The mural had been painted in the hall at the school entrance. Most of his lovesick moments staring into her eyes had occurred on the concrete ledge behind the school.

  “I’m ready for Gippi’s if you are.” She smiled widely at him.

  As an artist, he had a good eye for fakes, and she didn’t fool him. Getting the paintings so no one else would ever see the artwork he’d meant only for her eyes was supposed to be easy. The money he’d give for them would make it look like he was doing something generous for his hometown—a generosity his manager was looking forward to exploiting. Meanwhile, he’d get rid of the last evidence of the vulnerable, lonely outsider who’d been head-over-heels for the most popular, sweetest girl in school.

  Instead, the evidence that Julianne was still the same girl she used to be made him unable to lay the deal out and have her immediately snatch it up. If she did, he’d have no reason to stay in her company. He’d thought he’d gotten over Julianne and moved on years ago. Now he had to consider whether he was a fake too.

  Julianne reached around Zane to turn out the light switch so they could leave for dinner. He shifted at the same time to inspect one of the charcoal pencil nubs on a shelf, and she ended up putting her arm around his shoulders, practically reeling him in for a kiss.

  All she had to do was laugh and admit out loud how awkward their position was and the moment would pass. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She’d dreamed of being in Zane’s arms for too long, had believed that it would never happen again for even longer. And now she wanted to press her body against his and kiss him until they were both senseless with need.

  “Do you want to stay in this room some more? I can give you time alone.” Time for her to regain her equilibrium.

  His head leaned down, until his forehead was nearly touching hers. “Do I look like I want to be alone?”

  It might be after hours, but she was still a teacher inside her classroom with her job on the chopping block, thanks to the lack of funding for the arts. She forced herself to pull away from his magnetic force drawing her in. “Do you have any interest in checking out the mural? We can walk by it on the way outside.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m getting the impression you don’t trust yourself to be alone with me.”

  Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t deny it. “You must get women throwing themselves at you all the time.” And she was just another pathetic groupie, embarrassing herself and him.

  She flicked off the lights without incident this time and walked out of the room. She paused in front of the mural. She’d spent a lot of time studying it in the past year. There were some cracks, and the protective varnish was wearing off. She and her students would repair it, but it had to be done correctly to make it last, and that meant expensive supplies.

  Zane’s eyes zeroed in on the spot where there were no cracks or fissures, the one corner where a boy and a girl sat on a ledge, their backs in a silhouette, their faces turned toward each other. He scowled. “Why do you want to sell my art to save this?”

  “If I don’t save it, it’ll be sanded down and painted over as a plain white wall. It’ll be lost forever.”

  “Some things are better that way.” He turned away from the couple he’d painted to represent them and walked down the hall that led to the parking lot.

  “You want to ride with me or follow me to Gippi’s?” Julianne asked, as they stepped outside.

  “I’ll ride with you. You can help me fend off all those other women.” He shot her a sardonic look.

  Julianne sank into the driver’s seat of her car, hoping for a quick second alone before he sat down next to her and looked at her again. She was an idiot. She was still hot for him after all these years, but he was completely out of her league now. It wasn’t enough that she knew it. He made sure she knew that he knew it too.

  “Julianne.” His voice compelled her to turn to him as he took his seat in the car. No one said her name quite like Zane did. “We’re both wondering. Let’s find out and put it behind us.”

  He caressed his hand over her cheek, as he leaned across the seat toward her, leaving no question about his intention. His lips touched hers, sweetly, the merest brush of warm soft lips, like she was a canvas he was going to paint.

  His mouth was a wonder she couldn’t back away from. She leaned into him, needing more, needing to show him she was his partner in this masterpiece he was creating. She bit lightly on his lip.

  His hand slid up her cheek, his fingers combing through her hair and massaging her scalp. He delved his tongue into her mouth. She shifted, desperately wanting to move closer to him.

  A car horn blared, and she straightened immediately. She looked around, but the parking lot was empty.

  “I believe that was you,” Zane said, with a pointed look at her elbow resting against the steering wheel. His damp, flushed lips curved in amusement.

  “Oh.” She turned to face forward and pulled her seatbelt, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much her hands were shaking. Putting that kiss behind her was absolutely impossible as long as he sat next to her.

  Chapter Two

  OVER THE YEARS, Zane’s memories of Julianne had taken on a life of their own. He’d expected if he ever kissed her again, reality would be a sharp disappointment. One kiss would release him from his teenage infatuation and overactive hormones. But no, kissing Julianne was in fact in a class by itself, and he no longer felt certain why he’d returned to Dentonville.

  He walked into the restaurant with her and followed as the hostess led them to their table. He’d expected everyone else’s reaction to mirror hers—shock that the prodigal son had returned home, amazement at how good he looked now, a need to make themselves known to him. But although Julianne had recognized him immediately, it appeared that no one else did.

  He received a few curious looks, but most everyone focused on Julianne. They waved to her from across the room and called friendly hellos as she walked by. “How is the auction going? Do you need help setting up tomorrow?” a woman asked.

  Her smile didn’t waver. “I think it’s under control. I have a few students coming in tomorrow afternoon to help me. If I need last minute assistance, I’ll definitely call you,” she assured the woman.

  The hostess reached their table and set the menus down.

  “Julianne, sit with us,” a man called from the bar.

  A possessive streak Zane hadn’t felt in years for anything except his art raised its head, and he slipped his arm around Julianne. She was his. Not for long, not for always. But in this moment she was with him, and he didn’t have any intention of sharing.

  “Sorry guys, not tonight.” She tipped her head toward him.

  He sent the guy and his three cronies a steely glare.

  The guy at the bar was unfazed. “You have too many artsy-fartsy connections.”

  Zane bristled, but she laughed. “After this weekend, they’ll be gone.”

  She’d dismissed him, along with whoever else she was lumping in his category. Sure, he planned to be gone long before the weekend was over, but he was with her now. Other people in town had shrugged him off as a loser kid, but she never had. It burned his gut that she was doing so now.

  “Next Friday we have a date,” the bar guy said.

  Julianne rolled her eyes, not confirming or denying his statement. She sat down and smiled at Zane. “Sorry about that. I’ve had a few art collectors and gallery owners stop by since the auction invitations went out. The locals don’t always click with them.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Everyone assumes I’m an art dealer?” In his normal circles, everyone knew who he was, respected him and forgave him just about anything due to being an eccentric, talented artist.

  “Would you rather be labeled a local?” she tossed back. “I can take you around the restaurant and introduce you if you want everyone to know that you’re back. The guys at the bar were all on th
e varsity baseball team.”

  Her brother’s friends. They’d all hated him for getting Wyatt suspended right before the championship tournament. The entire school had taken Wyatt’s side. He’d moved on. He was not reliving that crap again. He was getting what he wanted and getting out of town. Tonight.

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone here. If you’ve been talking to the art world, you must have a good idea what those pictures I made for you will go for tomorrow. Cancel the auction, and I’ll cut you a check for double the amount.”

  Julianne dropped her menu and stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  The waitress came with their drinks and took their pizza order. As soon as she left, Julianne focused her russet-olive eyes back on him. “Why?”

  Because I don’t want the entire world knowing how crazy in love with you I was back then. “Zane DeMonde art is a brand. My work is completely different from what I drew in high school. I’m not going to let you ruin a reputation that’s taken me years to develop by selling artwork with my name on it that’s contrary to my brand.”

  “This is your early work, and it does contain hints of your current style,” she argued. “Collectors are fascinated to see how you’ve changed and developed.”

  “Why did you decide to sell those pictures now?” he asked. She was the only one he’d ever gifted his work to other than his mother and sister. She could have saved them and made more money off them after he died or burned them years ago before they were worth anything.

  In fact, until he’d learned she was going to auction them off, he’d assumed she’d tossed the sketches when she’d chosen her family over him. Knowing she still had them brought back his teenage longings, and knowing she was getting rid of them made the sting of her refusal to follow him out of town fifteen years ago just as fresh now.

  Her fingers tightened on her Diet Coke glass. “It’s the one thing I have that can make a difference to keep art alive for the children here. You’re a true artist, Zane. But I’m an art lover and conduit to inspire love of the arts and recognize artistic talent in others.”