Brushstrokes and Love Notes (An Enemies to Lovers Romance)

By Tina Martin

Morgan David has always had a thing for Jamila Hampton. They share mutual friends, but Jamila has never given the eccentric painter the time of day even though she knows he's crushing on her. But one date may change all of that, especially after Morgan subtly convinces her to 'like' him by giving her a series of short notes that collectively make up an entire letter to relay his deep feelings for her. Will Jamila get the message, or will her past relationship prevent her from seeing what's right in front of her?

 

*These characters first appear in Mr. Tall, Dark and Unavailable. Morgan and Jamila are friends of Nia Yearwood. If you haven't read that book, I strongly suggest you read it before this one, but it's not required.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tina Martin
• Release date: Jan 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224077236

Tina Martin

TINA MARTIN is the author of over 80 romance, romantic suspense and women’s fiction titles and has been writing full-time since 2013. Readers praise Tina for her strong heroes, sweet heroines and beautifully crafted stories. When she’s not writing, Tina enjoys watching movies, traveling, cooking and spending time with her family. For more information, visit www.tinamartin.net

Book preview

These characters first appear in Mr. Tall, Dark and Unavailable. Morgan David and Jamila Hampton are friends of Nia Yearwood. If you haven’t read Mr. Tall, Dark and Unavailable, I strongly suggest you read it before this one, but it’s not required.

CHAPTER ONE

I can’t take my eyes off of her. Her beauty has me in a trance – in the zone and under a spell. Even if I tried, like really tried, I couldn’t stop. I may be biased, but Jamila Hampton is the most beautiful woman in this place. My eyes don’t deceive me. They know her thoroughly. They guide me to her. They make me see her elegance, and boy does she have a lot of it.

We’re at The Mint – an art museum where my best friend, Nia Yearwood, is having her very first solo exhibition. All of her closest friends are here and thus the reason for Jamila’s presence. She’s Nia’s other best friend. We share her, and after I’ve congratulated Nia on all of her accomplishments, my eyes focused on Jamila.

Her black hair is in braids. She has them pulled up into a ponytail for this formal affair, but I love to see them swinging down her back.  She’s about five-six, same height as Nia. Her skin is a medium brown color like the caramel that oozes out of a candy bar. She’s wearing a gold, off-the-shoulder dress tonight that complements her skin tone and the curves of her body. The color also brings out her light brown eyes. She’s stunning.

I like everything about Jamila. I like that she plays hard to get because I don’t mind putting in extra effort for her time. I like that she ignores me like I’m not a catch when I know the value I bring to the table. She just doesn’t know it yet because she’s been avoiding me for years like I’m a chore she’s been putting off until the last minute. Again, fine by me. It simply encourages me to work that much harder for what I want.

And what I want is her.

I’ve always wanted Jamila and I’m not talking about a quick physical relationship and then, boom, it’s over. I want her in a way that will make her mine forever. I’ve had dreams about this woman. Because of them, I know what our children will look like. Our home. Our lives in general. Of course, none of that’s possible if I can’t convince her I’m the one.

Her one.

So, imagine the intimidation and pressure I must feel as I walk toward this gorgeous woman with champagne to strike up a conversation. I’m typically not a nervous person. I’m a free spirit – a painter. I’m a go-with-the-flow, laid-back kind of guy. But approaching Jamila has my palms sweaty. It has me rehearsing what I want to say and yet still not deciding on anything suitable.

I pause for a moment.

Shake it off, Morgan. You got this man, I think as I coach myself – something I’ve never done before. My folks told me if I wanted something I never had, then I had to do something I’ve never done. So, here I am doing just that.

Proceeding in her direction, I use the boldness I’ve built up in the last few minutes to step right up to her and say, Hi.

She looks at me but doesn’t speak. She frowns and darts her head back in a way that says, I know this dude ain’t talking to me...

But I am talking to her and this time, I won’t fall for her attitude. I brought you some champagne.

She looks at me, or maybe it’s more like a glare (yes, definitely a glare) and says, I already had some.

One more glass won’t hurt.

A serious eye roll ensues, typical for Jamila – well when it comes to me that is. She takes the glass and turns it up to her mouth, gulping the champagne down in its entirety. I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed.

Should I get you another—

"Nope. I didn’t even want that one. What makes you think I want another?" She turns up her lips.

I take a sip from my glass and play it cool, strategizing on how to get through to this girl. Maybe if I talk about Nia it will reestablish our common ground. After all, our friendship with Nia is the only reason we know each other.

I say, So, this is nice, huh?

Yeah, it is. She should’ve had one of these already. It’s about time Nia’s talents were recognized by more people than just me.

Just you? I recognized Nia’s talents a long time ago.

Yeah...bet you did.

She crosses her arms and does nothing to hide that smirk on her face. Why is there insinuation behind her tone as if Nia and I were anything more when I know we weren’t? To clarify if that’s what she’s thinking, I ask, What was that about?

What?

The way you said that as if I’ve been checking for Nia. You know we’re just friends, don’t you?

She sets her eyes on me again. This time, it’s not a hard glare, but a look like she knows something about me that I don’t know about myself. She raises her brows then turns away from me when she says, It’s been my long-running theory that you wanted to be with Nia.

Has it?

Yes, it has.

And because you theorized it, I take it you’ve made yourself believe that.

That would be correct.

I’m left to stare at the side angle of her face since she’s turned away from me. I imagine running my finger along her cheekbone and across her jaw. I say, Then let me be the first to tell you that you’re wrong.

Her brows raise. Am I?

Yes, you are.

"So you never liked Nia like that?"

No.

Why not? She’s beautiful. Talented. She sings your praises. You met her before she met Caspian.

And we were friends. We shared a love of art. Nothing more, nothing less.

Mmm, hmm, she says in an exaggerated manner that tells me she doesn’t believe me. That’s why when she was mad at Caspian, she went running to your place instead of mine, right?

Wait—you’re still upset about that? I ask with a smirk. You’re jealous, aren’t you?

No, I’m not jealous. I’m trying to make a point here.

I can assure you—there’s no point to be made. I’m a man of integrity. You’d know that if you took the time to get to know me.

I take a sip of champagne to hide my frustration. How am I supposed to get this woman to go out with me when she already thinks the worst about me? I say, "Nia’s