The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) by DelSheree Gladden Page A

with a blank canvas, set of paints, and paintbrushes. The tables had place settings for all the guests, and most were already filled. Three empty spots in the far corner of the restaurant called to the newly arrived trio.
    “Those must be our seats,” Vance said. He directed Natalie toward the empty table with the patience of a saint. Not usually one to chatter, Vance seemed to be trying to ease her tension when he said, “I wonder what we’ll be painting tonight. Last time I was here it was with Steph and Charlotte and we had to do a still life of fruit.” Vance shook his head. “I hope it’s something more interesting tonight. It felt like we were here forever last time.”
    “I hope it is not a live model again. That last one was not enjoyable to paint.” She shook her head. “He would not hold still and the instructor kept having to reposition him. It made it impossible to get an accurate picture.”
    Vance snorted. “You’re the only one concerned with getting a really accurate image.” He rolled his eyes at her, but laughed all the same. A notification sounded from his phone and he pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s from Steph. She’s on a break from her training and wanted to see how things were going. I’ll be right back.”
    He stepped out to the sidewalk to talk a few seconds later and Natalie couldn’t help stealing glances at him. It wasn’t that she thought he was lying when he said it was Stephanie’s idea to invite her, but she doubted it was an enthusiastic offer. Not that she blamed her.
    Since Natalie had no clue what she was supposed to be doing, she followed Sabine over to the easels when she stood and copied her as she got her supplies set up. As they worked, Sabine asked, “Do you mind if I ask why you do not like to be touched?” She looked over at Natalie, her expression absent of judgment. “If you do not wish to discuss it, please tell me so and I will not ask again.”
    The question spiked Natalie’s anxiety, but Sabine had been so accepting all night, she wanted to at least make an effort to repay her kindness. She disappointed people so often.
    “My parents didn’t believe in outward displays of affection. It makes you look weak, my dad would say, and he lived what he preached,” Natalie said, the mantra slipping past her lips with practiced ease. The familiarity of it turned her stomach, but it was so ingrained in her that it was impossible to abandon, whether she believed the same or not. Her views on many things differed greatly from her parents, but she struggled to shed those teachings she was raised with.
    “So your parents never touched…held hands or kissed in front of you?” Sabine asked.
    “No, and they never touched me either.” Her words came out laced with bitterness. It wasn’t just that they’d left her craving the comfort of human touch. They’d also embedded the concept so deeply into her that even before everything had fallen apart she had become so fearful being touched would ruin her that she shied away from those few people willing to extend her compassion or kindness.
    Sabine set out several tubes of paint, but her focus remained on Natalie. “What do you mean that they never touched you?” She moved on to choosing paint brushes. “Were there no playful hugs or kisses? No tucking in at bedtime when you were small?”
    “It went beyond that,” Natalie said, surprised she continued to talk. “My mother got to the point that she would barely touch me at all. Not when I was hurt or crying or needed help with something. She treated me like a leper. I mean, I understood why but…” Even when she tried very hard, Natalie couldn’t remember ever being hugged by her mother or held in her arms. She wasn’t hit or spanked, but there were times she would have been happy with even contact born of anger.
    “I can see why being touched now is so difficult.” Sabine’s voice held heaps of compassion not weighed down by judgment or pity. “All