Chapter Forty-One
chapter forty-one
ISLA
I stayed in my old hotel room last night. I thought sleeping with Caio would just confuse me more, and that I needed one night to myself to let my mind settle. Turns out it only settles when I’m wrapped up in his arms, sleeping between his sheets.
The dinner with my family was nice. It was like old times, before anyone moved away, and before expectations ruled our relationships, but it was all pretend. Fake smiles and tense shoulders until we parted ways at the end of the night.
My father kept glancing to the bar where Rafael and Caio sat, not so subtly keeping an eye on our table the entire night like grumpy German Shepherds.
I could feel Caio’s gaze on me like a cold breeze over my shoulders, just a whisper of a reminder that he was there, looking over me like he always does.
I’m reminded of his piercing blue eyes as I walk along Main heading to Nora’s studio. I haven’t been here in a week or so now, and I need to feel the steady weight of a brush between my fingers to dull the constant buzz in my mind.
I slip through the side door to the studio instead of through the gallery doors like usual. When I step into the studio, there are boxes all around, half filled with canvases and paints.
“Nora,” I say, catching her attention as she’s washing brushes at the sink.
“Isla, c iao tesoro mio.”
“Tell me the fundraiser helped?”
She looks down at her hands and that’s all I need to confirm it. “It wasn’t enough. The studio has sold.”
Sold.
No.
Why do I feel more upset than she looks?
“The new owner is in the gallery now,” she says, nodding her head in the direction of the open archway that leads to the gallery.
I barely think before I stomp through into the gallery space. I need to see what kind of person bought this place from out under Nora.
I halt to a stop when I see Caio standing in the middle of the room.
“Caio, wha?—“
My words fall away as I take notice of the artworks hanging on the wall.
My artwork, all of it.
Every piece that I’ve worked on in the last few weeks has been framed and holds a spot on the wall.
I mindlessly wander through the space, taking in the sight of something I thought I’d never see. Almost every piece has a small red sticker next to it on the wall.
There are paintings of Ruby Cove, of the water, of the shore, of the essence it carries.
Then there are paintings I never thought anyone would see. Portraits of the man standing in front of me, all in different angles and lighting. The paintings aren’t perfect, they’re just pieces I’ve been playing with every day, painting and repainting, trying to make them perfect. But a little part of me is proud as I look into my favorite eyes and see them reflected on the canvas behind where Caio is standing.
Something catches my eye in my peripheral vision, and I see my mom and dad sitting on the bench that sits beside the wall.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, before looking back to Caio. “What is this?” My voice falters.
Tears well in my mother’s eyes as she stands up.
“Mom?”
She wraps me in a hug. “I’m so, so sorry, darling.” She chokes back her tears before pulling back. “You are…” she looks around the room. “You are so talented, baby girl.” She cups my cheek. “I’m so sorry for doubting you. This is incredible, sweetheart. I mean…” She runs out of words to explain, pulling me into a tight embrace instead. I sink into her arms, reveling in the feeling of affection from my mom.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, and it’s the one thing I’ve waited so long to hear, but nothing changes when she says it. The sun doesn’t shine any brighter, the world doesn’t cleave in two. And it’s because I already feel proud of myself. I don’t know when it started to be enough.
I see my father sitting on the bench from over my mom’s shoulder, a disapproving look still on his face. But it doesn’t sting as much as it used to, and not because my mom approves, but because I do.
My mom pulls away, smoothing down her pencil skirt and fixing her hair. “Okay, we’ll leave you two.” She grabs my dad by the arm and they both leave the gallery.
I stand there looking at the door they left through when warm arms wrap around my middle. “How about that?” Caio asks.
I let out a small laugh. “Definitely something I never thought I’d experience.”
I was so convinced that my mom would never see me as a success. Even after what Miles said, I didn’t believe we’d ever reach this place, but here we are, and all because of the man embracing me right now.
He organized all of this no doubt, always finding ways to wave my accomplishments in my face.
I turn around in his arms. “Are you going to tell me what all of this is? Who bought the gallery?”
“I did. Well, more like we did, sort of.”
The butterflies in my stomach are bashing against their cage. “What are you talking about?”
“The money wasn’t enough from the fundraiser, but there was no way we were losing this place. There was no way you were. So I made a deal with Nora.” He nods behind me, and I look over my shoulder to where Nora is leaning against the rounded archway with a grin plastered on her face.
“The only way she’d agree to let me buy it was if I agreed that this place would always stay as a studio.”
“And,” Nora chimes in, “that when I’m sick of this place, it’ll be yours.”
“Technically, you would own a part of it anyway,” Caio grins.
“What?” My heart is battering against my chest so hard I’m surprised no one else can hear it.
“It’s written into our agreement that you’ll inherit this place after me, and Caio won’t kick you out, no matter what happens between you two. No matter if you’re here, or back home in New York. This place will always be yours, as long as you want it.”
I look back to Caio as Nora escapes back to the studio after dropping that bomb.
“Remember that pesky little envelope?” I nod. “I put the money into buying this place. I wanted you to feel like you helped save this place, even if you don’t want it for yourself.”
“Is this all a joke?”
He kisses my forehead. “None of this is meant to freak you out, okay? And if this isn’t what you want, then that’s okay too, it's all on your terms. But I will keep the building either way, whether I’m here or not.”
“What do you mean if you’re here or not?” My insides are squirming at this point.
“Well, that depends on you.” He chuckles at the confusion I’m sure is written all over my face. “I can’t pretend that I’ll be okay if you go home. I’d feel empty without you here, my life devoid of the light you fill it with. So if you still want to go back to New York, if that’s what your gut is telling you, then I guess we are moving to New York.”
“What?” I can’t help the nervous laugh that comes out of me. “You’d really move? You’d leave this place? Leave the hotel?”
“Nothing means more to me than you, not anymore.” He wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close. “I’ve been bound to you since the first time your perfect lips touched mine. Nothing can change that now.”
Flowers bloom in my heart as I rise up on my toes and press my lips to his.
He’d give up everything for me? I don’t know what god to thank that I got so lucky.
Painting means everything to me. It’s been there for me through everything, through my hardest days when I angrily threw paint on the page, or the best days when I basked in the sun, lazily adding mindless details. Now that I’ve got it back, I don’t ever want to lose it again. I don’t want to lose that part of myself. This place and these people helped me figure that out, and I don’t want to lose them either.
The kiss is soft at first, loving, admiring, but it quickly turns hungry. Teeth clashing and nipping of lips. Caio’s arms reach beneath me, lifting me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us across the room before pressing my back to the wall.
My hips grind into his as he tangles a hand in my hair.
“Wait, what about Nora?” I ask between kisses.
“I hope she’s gone for her own sake,” he laughs as he palms my ass under my denim shorts. I moan as Caio’s tongue swipes against my own. I’m intoxicated by just the taste of him.
“Are you trying to kill me with those sounds, sweetheart?” Caio pins me to the wall with his hips, making me very aware of his building hardness as he rips the button of my shorts open and yanks them down my hips, leaving my purple lace panties on display, and my bare ass pressed against the gallery wall.
“Fuck, Isla,” he growls, rubbing a thumb over my sensitive spot.
“Please,” I beg as I fumble with his zipper.
“Well, when you ask so nicely,” he grins, pulling his hard cock out. I swallow in anticipation.
He yanks my panties to the side and swipes the head of his cock against me, making me moan.
“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he says, watching me as he uses one hand to tuck my hair behind my ear and the other to guide himself into me.
“Oh, god.” I lean my head back against the wall.
“So pretty,” he says, slowly pulling out before he inches back into me, his rhythm loving and worshiping. I move my hips in time with him, keeping my ankles locked around his waist, keeping him close.
“I wish you could see how you look right now, if only so you could paint me a picture replica that I could hang in my office.” He sucks on my neck in between his words. “I want to see you like this every day.”
I chuckle and he brings his lips to mine, lightly tugging my bottom lip between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth, kissing me deeply.
“Or maybe we could hang it right here, and you can be reminded of this moment every time you walk into this room.”
“I don’t need a painting to remind me of this moment. I don’t think I could ever forget it,” I pant.
He smirks, bringing his forehead to mine. “Fuck, I love you.”
I grip his head in my hands, pulling his mouth back to mine, kissing him hard before I pull back, looking into my favorite eyes. “I love you too.”
Caio stills inside of me, searching my eyes for the truth. I stare straight back at him, my eyes confident. There’s no doubt anymore, no I think, no maybe, just this.
A second later, he hoists me higher, angling deeper into me and thrusting all of his weight into me. He pins my hips to the wall with his hands as he picks up his pace, fucking me so hard the paintings on the wall shake on their hooks next to me.
“God, Caio.” I yank on his hair.
“Quiet sweetheart, unless you want everyone on the street to hear just how well the new best-selling artist of Ruby Cove gets fucked. We can give them a show if you like.”
“Oh my g—” My voice fails me as his words make the pleasure build in my stomach.
He chuckles, pressing a hand in between us, teasing my clit with every push of his hips.
“Fuck, Caio, please don’t stop.”
He relentlessly pounds into me, the moans slipping from my mouth as he moves, proving his point when a crash echoes through the room as one of my paintings hits the floor, but I’m too consumed to care.
He chuckles as the pressure within me rises, heat spearing through my body until it explodes behind my eyes.
Caio grabs my legs, holding them in place as my body weakens coming down from my orgasm.
“I don’t think you realize how beautiful you look when you do that. I think I fall in love with you a little bit more every time,” Caio says before he groans, thrusting long and hard as he spills into me, resting his head on my shoulder.
I run my fingers through his dark hair, trailing my nails along his scalp, as he puffs against my shoulder. Neither of us move, not wanting to let go of this moment just yet.
“I’m not going back to New York.”
His head flings back to look at me. “You’re not?”
I bite my bottom lip, suppressing a goofy grin as I shake my head.
“So does that mean…”
“It means I think you should start getting rid of half of your clothes. I’m going to need another drawer, plus some hanging space,” I tease. “And we need to get Marvin a cage, or a bed? I’m not across cat sleeping arrangements.”
“That fucking cat.”
I giggle as Caio peppers kisses across my neck and chest, tickling my skin.
“And you’re not going to change your mind?” he asks.
“If I changed my mind, would you let me go?”
He shakes his head, grinning wide. “Not a chance.”
He kisses me again, a mix of soft and hard, ravenous and languid, and everything in between. Promises laced in between every breath shared, tastes of the future in front of me, and it tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever imagined.