Page 1 of Colors and Curves

Chapter 1

Skylar

I laughed when my family warned me that summer in New York City could be unbearable at times. I mean, I’ve lived in Boston most of my life—how could New York be that much different? Well, let me tell you, I’ve been wearing the least amount of clothes possible without being arrested for streaking. The sweltering heat and heavy humidity has practically melted the skyscrapers. The Amazon rainforest probably feels like an icebox compared to here. Until last night anyway. Spectacular thunderstorms blew through the city, bringing with them an awesome show of lightning. All that sucked the humidity right out. It’s still crazy hot, but at least the air is breathable again—so much so that I’ve decided to venture out to Central Park.

Apparently, I’m not the only one with that plan. The sidewalks are packed, and people keep bumping into me. A refreshing droplet of condensation from my giant Dunkin’ iced coffee slides down my narrow cleavage as I hold my drink close to my chest like an old woman clutches her purse. I asked for three extra shots of espresso. It was probably not the best choice after the week I’ve had. If I’m not careful, I’ll be breakdancing through the park instead of walking. I suck down a huge gulp and cringe at the resulting brain freeze. Will I ever learn when I drink these damn things?

In the distance, the swaying branches of my favorite big willow tree wave to me gracefully. It’s like being greeted by an old friend after a long day of work at the gallery. I can’t wait to sit down and relax against its supportive trunk.

“Chance! Heel!” A loud male voice catches my attention. I turn around to see a three-legged dog dragging a long leash and zigzagging wildly after a skittish squirrel, a cloud of dust following behind. Oh, shit! They’re heading my way. At the last second, the squirrel swerves to the right and scrambles up a tree. The dog doesn’t have time to adjust its path, and I don’t have time to move. Suddenly, I’m tumbling backward and watching my coffee as it slips from my hand into a messy freefall. My ass hits the ground hard and, next thing I know, I’m flat on my back. For a moment, I’m numb, until I’m shocked back to reality by a rough tongue licking my chest and face. What in the ever-loving fuck? As I sit up, the dog’s rough paw gets lodged in the top of my strapless sundress. I grab the edge of it just in time to keep my boobs from flying out.

“Chance! What the hell has gotten into you? Get off her!” The dog gets in one more lick before his weight lifts off me.

I push my hair out of my face and feel a breeze between my legs.Oh no. I glance down and get a glimpse of my red lace underwear on display like the photographs in the gallery. Faster than I can think, my hand grabs the bottom of my dress and stuffs it between my legs. I don’t embarrass easily, but I’m pretty sure the color of my face is currently matching my underwear.

“Are you okay?” His voice is cold and gruff, almost like he doesn’t care and is more annoyed than anything. Yet it sends pleasant shivers down my spine. Why?

“Yeah. I think—” I stop to take inventory. My arms and legs look fine, but I touch my chest because it stings. When I pull my hand away, it’s slightly wet and sticky. I look down, expecting it to be dog slime or coffee, but instead, it’s blood. “No way! I’m bleeding. Shit!”

My handbag is next to me on the ground, covered in coffee.That figures.I grab a pack of tissues and use one to blot my chest. I pull it away to find a small dot of blood.Phew. Nothing major. I’m supposed to wear a strapless dress to the opening on Friday night.

“Where? I don’t see anything.”Are you kidding me?Did he not see me wiping it off with the tissue? Can’t he at least pretend to care?

“What the hell do you think this is?” I point to my chest. “If you don’t see the scratch right here and the blood on this tissue”—I hold it out so he can see—“then you must be blind.”

He snorts, and I lift my angry gaze to meet the most unique brown eyes. Deep reddish-brown like redwood or cognac. Fiery. Beautiful.Whoa. What was I saying? I’ve lost all train of thought. I’m suddenly envisioning him coming out of a burning house with only his fireman suspender pants on, muscles tight and slick, with a hose hanging over his shoulder and a puppy in one hand.Puppy?

Sluurp!Well, that’s a guaranteed way to kill a fantasy… unless it’s the guy’s tongue. And this wasn’t.

“Can you please keep your dog off me? I like dogs, but this is fucking ridiculous.”

“Then get off the ground,” he snidely remarks, tugging gently on the leash.

Oooh, really?“Who pissed in your damn Cheerios this morning? I’m the one who’s bleeding and covered with dirt and coffee here.” I grab more tissues and wipe the coffee from my bag and legs. It’s on my dress too. This had better not stain! What a waste of coffee money.

The jerk crosses his arms, revealing toned biceps. I can’t help but notice the dog—Chance?—as he winds himself around the guy’s long, muscular legs. Why is he still standing here if he doesn’t intend to speak to me? We should part ways and call it a day.

I don’t care how chiseled his jaw is or that the wind just blew the heavenly scent of male sweat and soap my way or that there’s a hint of ink peeking around from his shoulder and neck… Nope. He might look like a god, but he’s nothing more than a prick on a stick or a devil in disguise. I lock my jaw into place, like his. The jerk hasn’t even offered to help me up. I don’t need his damn help anyway.

I push off the ground with the least amount of grace. Finally on my feet, I brush my hands down my flowy, floral dress. “Dogs should always be on a leash, you know,” I say. Ugh—why bother with the dress. It’s covered in dirt, dog spit, and coffee.

The dog in question is unwinding himself like it’s the most fun he’s ever had. If only life could be so easy. He’s adorable and I want to take him home with me.

“Look, it wasn’t my fault. He took off after a squirrel, and the leash snapped. I can’t help it if you were suddenly more enticing than the squirrel.” His voice has a twang of disgust, but I watch as he checks me out. His cold, squinted eyes slowly defrost, and I catch the exact second when he zones in on my breasts.Typical asshole.

My defenses kick in, but at the same time, I realize I’ve been doing the same thing to him. Then I’m pissed because I like how he’s looking at them… at me. Like he’s branding me as his.Stop!I cross my arms over my chest, mirroring his stance. We look like we’re about to face off.

Maybe he was just looking at the scratch.Nah.My track record with men says no. “What are you looking at? Eyes up here.” I snap my fingers.

The dog sits pretty and looks at me with his tongue dangling out. I almost laugh. “Not you, little boy. I’m talking about your owner over here.” I am not going to stoop to his level and ask what the jerk’s name is.

I look up and lock eyes with the guy again. He tips his head to the side and twists his lips into a slight curve. Is that a smile?

Whatever it is, it sends pleasant shivers down my spine… again! Can he stop making himself look so damn sexy? His eyes are hypnotic, and his delicious lips beg me to kiss them.

“Where Chance had his paw.”

“What?”