27. Chapter 27 –Three Months Later -
Chapter 27 –Three Months Later -
Soft bristles dipped in the orange-red shade I made by mixing colors. I wiped off the excess paint against the white palette he held for me. Mercer. My Mercer. He sat on a bench next to my chair, a lazy fox making strange noises slumped against his thigh. Trouble, who’d enjoyed tummy rubs and grew bored with the berries at his side, rolled and wriggled for more attention.
A breeze picked up, blowing the pretty red maple so hard that snow fell to the ground, exposing more of the leaves that shared their color with the cold flush on my rosy cheeks.
I blew out an icy breath, taking in the changed scene as my brush dotted the canvas.
“Too cold?” The words came from his jacket speaker, the expensive little gadget immune to weather damage.
I was glad about that.
I still liked that sexy voice best.
I was also glad I wasn’t cold, thanks to him making sure I was snug before bringing me out into the backyard.
The furry boots on my feet and the blanket meeting them at my shins prevented the cold from assaulting my body, even as snowdrops danced from the sky, landing on my nose and Trouble’s as we looked up in harmony.
I thought snow would have been a painful reminder of my mother’s death. But I could feel her presence and joy over the art I was creating. And it changed how I felt as the snow landed on my skin.
“Just right.” My head angled to Mercer, my cheeks round with happiness.
He smiled back. A smile so hot that the snowflake on my nose melted, and my heart burst into flames.
This was my life now.
And it was close to fucking perfect.
I made myself comfortable, pulling my blanket higher as it tried to slide down my lap. I took a sip of the hot chocolate from the cupholder on my chair, and I returned to painting.
Mercer moved to me, leaving Trouble to his own devices, the berries amusing him again. His arm crept around my shoulder. His cold lips pressed into the crook of my neck, his feathered breath telling me I was wrong, that I was cold and I needed warming up.
My paintbrush came up and marked his nose with a red dot, a silent reminder to stop clowning around while I worked.
I was a real artist now...I was paid for my work, by him, sure, but playtime couldn’t interrupt.
He took my warning seriously but stayed close, his heat warming me. His scent of tonka seduced me. I shrugged him off, and he laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Ten minutes.” My world spun backward, my heart stopping as I sucked in cold air. It wasn’t the speaker talking. It was him. It sounded distorted, but I understood it. I understood he trusted me enough to talk to me in his real voice—something he never did in front of anyone. And it made me fall in love with him all over again.
“In ten minutes, I better already be in our bed...naked,” I said, with my breath hot on his mouth. “With you inside me.”
He crossed his heart, returning to the bench, taking a moment to adjust the bulge in his pants before he stretched the palette out to me, allowing me my last few minutes with the pretty maple.
He shot another sinister smile my way because we both knew, the reality was, that I didn’t have minutes. I had mere seconds before he tossed me over his shoulder and trudged up those stairs.
And we both knew how much I fucking wanted that.