Chapter 23 Sunny #2
At the moment, my world centered around Toronto.
I also knew Sunny would suffer terribly there—away from the water and everything familiar, and although I had no desire to move back to Mission Cove, there were compromises we could make.
My office was transportable. My business would run no matter where I was.
But I had to be where Sunny was. Of that, there was no question. I had to make that happen.
I grabbed my laptop and opened it, scrolling through my contacts, until I found my favorite architect. I composed a long, detailed email, attaching files I had saved, as well as a sketch I quickly did and took a snapshot of, knowing it would amuse him.
I sat back, rereading the email, and satisfied, I sent it off.
I reached for the last cookie, munching on it, when arms wrapped around my neck.
“Why are you out here?” Sunny’s sleepy voice murmured in my ear. “I woke up and you were gone. I didn’t like it.”
I turned and tugged her to my lap. She was a warm, soft weight on my legs, nestled happily into my chest.
“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I got a little work done.”
“Hmm.” Her lips drifted up my neck. “I could have helped you go back to sleep.”
I chuckled at her drowsy attempt at seduction. “Is that a fact?”
She tugged my head down, nipping on my earlobe. “I have ways.”
“I bet you do.” Turning my face, I captured her lips with mine, kissing her. It took my body about three seconds to catch up with Sunny, but my erection kicked up fast and hard.
“Mmm,” she whispered. “You taste like ginger.”
“And you taste like mint, you little seductress. You planned this.”
She peered up at me, shifting on my lap. “I think it worked. Take me back to bed, Linc. I promise you’ll sleep well once I’m done with you.”
That was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
The following Monday, I was busy working on my laptop.
Abby was at the house with Sunny and the town librarian, letting her have first choice of the books on the shelves.
After my meltdown, it was decided perhaps it was better if I didn’t return to the house.
I was fine with the idea. I had what I wanted from the interior, and the one thing left on my list was to watch it disappear.
In less than two weeks, I’d have my wish.
Until then, I was happy to stay away. There was nothing else I wanted to take from it.
Or at least I thought so, until Sunny burst in, her arms filled with picture frames and looking strangely excited.
I saved the item I was working on and shut the lid.
If Sunny saw the car I was building for her, she would call a full stop to my endeavors, and I was having too much fun making it for her.
She loved Abby’s SUV so much, I decided to get her one of her own.
I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to it.
I hoped delight would override her independent streak.
Especially the way I planned to present it to her.
I smiled at her flushed cheeks. “What’s got you all excited, Sunny-girl?”
“Linc, did you know your mother used to paint watercolors?”
I scratched my head. “No.”
“Mrs. Miller was telling me as we looked through the books. She said your mother always loved to paint, even back in school. She says there’s one of her paintings in the library.”
“Wow. I’ll have to go see it.” A fragment of a memory floated in my head.
“I recall an easel, I think. In the back sun-room. I remember a pencil behind her ear a lot. At least, I always thought it was a pencil. Maybe…it could have been a paintbrush.” I indicated the pile of items in her arms. “What are those?”
She laid the pile in front of me. “Your mother’s paintings, Linc.”
I gaped at her. “What?”
“They were in a box, upstairs in one of the closets.”
I picked one up, studying it. Pretty, light, and feminine, it was a good painting. The use of light was wonderful, and I could see how talented she had been. And priceless to me because of who painted it. “Are we sure these are my mother’s?” I asked.
“Yes. Look at the bottom. She always signed her pictures the same way. With simply a W. Mrs. Miller said she always used her initial.”
I spread out the collection, looking at them. There were six in all. All similar in composition, all signed with a W.
I gripped Sunny’s hand. “I remember these. In the hallway. There used to be one over the mantle in the den, but then it was gone. They all disappeared.”
“That’s the one in the library, Linc. Your mother gave it to them. Mrs. Miller said you could have it back if you wanted.”
I gazed at the paintings. Pieces of my mother I didn’t even know existed.
Small treasures. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“These would have gone when the house did,” I murmured.
“I never would have known.” Another memory hit me.
“I remember a pile of canvases. They were piled by the door and then gone the next day. He must have gotten rid of them. But he must have forgotten about these.”
“We could try to find them. Advertise. Check out secondhand shops in the local area. Abby is searching the entire house in case we find any more, but she wanted me to come to show you these right away.”
I stared at the canvases. “No. I would like to think someone else is enjoying her work.” I turned to Sunny, pulling her close. “What a gift you’ve given me. Even if we don’t find any others, these are such amazing things to be able to have.” I dropped a kiss to her head. “Thank you.”
She beamed up at me. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you, Sunny-girl.”
She wrinkled her nose with a smile. “I know.”