Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Yes.” This time there was a smile in his voice like he thought I was the cute one. “I know why you’re cautious, but I’ve thought about it. I trust you and I want to show you, and on a very practical level, I don’t want you around my family without having seen my work. They’ll…they’ll think that means I don’t like you enough…and that’s not it.”
“They just don’t understand how hard it is to share that part of yourself with someone that matters.” Kissing his head again, I kept up the gentle caresses that I hoped were making sure he knew I was right there for him no matter what.
“I want to show you, Daddy.” He gave me another kiss as his fingers started playing with my shirt. “I’m a good grown-up. Okay, sometimes I’m a good grown-up and it’s usually about work. But I want you to know I’m not just silly all the time.”
My snort had him giggling. “You take your art very seriously and I have no doubt that you do a wonderful job on that part of your life.”
“You trust me too much.” He sighed. “Daddy, I just had ice cream and nuggets for lunch. But I did eat my good breakfast. No cookies. Honest.”
That was not as much of a surprise as he probably thought.
“You remembered to eat lunch and it wasn’t just goldfish crackers or gummy worms? That’s wonderful.” My pleased response had him giggling again before shaking his head.
As he sat up, he couldn’t seem to decide if he wanted to pout or smile. “You’re supposed to tell me I didn’t do a good job being a grown-up.”
“I’m very sure grown-up Camden did not pick out lunch.” That got a laugh from my still slightly worried boy. “Come on. Show me your studio.”
A smile peeked out as he gave a decisive nod and climbed off my lap. “Yes. It’s in a sunroom that was added on to the house after the original structure was built. Oh wait, I already told you that.”
Taking my hand, he pulled me up and led me through the house, looking more confident with each step. “It’s perfect for me, but I don’t think the previous owners knew what to do with it. When I first moved in, that part of the house was the only one that needed to be fixed up.”
As he told me a bit about everything he’d fixed, he took me down the long hallway that I’d seen when I’d first hung up his pictures. If he got more nervous again as we approached his studio, I couldn’t tell. I could still feel the tension in him, but it seemed manageable as we finally walked into what was originally a sunroom.
With one glance I knew how bright the space would be most of the day and I was just a bit jealous, but it was the second glance that had surprise coursing through me. “You paint under another name…what is it…your mother’s maiden name?”
I groaned as it finally hit me. “You masculinized her name a bit.”
It was more androgynous than traditional, but a lot of people thought he was a woman.
He blushed, nibbling on his lower lip and looking slightly guilty. “Um, yes.”
Before I could ask why, he shrugged and started wandering around the room. “I was under eighteen when I first started putting my stuff online. I didn’t want anyone to know I was a kid, so I used her initials to begin with and pretended to be older. It just stuck when real people actually found my stuff. I never changed it much because it makes it harder for people to find me…and have I mentioned I really don’t like people just showing up?”
Yes, he had.
Several times.
“Except you, Daddy.” He gave me a shy smile as he glanced back at me. “You can show up anytime you want.”
So sweet.
“Thank you, baby.” Looking around the room, I started combining the man I knew with the artist I’d seen being talked about in the right circles. “Your grandmother has one of your pictures in her sitting room. The stupid room with the too-tiny chairs.”
That had laughter bubbling out of him the way I knew it would. “Do you know how hard it was to paint something for her that would fit who I am as an artist but that she could put up in her house?”
I rolled my eyes dramatically, making sure he knew I was teasing. “If you didn’t always paint half-naked men, that wouldn’t be a problem.”
Naughty giggles escaped the teasing boy as he started almost bouncing around the room. “Not always. It’s mostly my imagination, though. I don’t like using live models because—”
I jumped in, filling in the rest of the sentence. “Because you don’t like having people over.”
That got me another grin as he nodded. “And my mother would’ve killed me if I’d invited someone over to get naked when I was first starting out.”