52. Jaxon
JAXON
When she says she doesn’t want to leave and that she misses me, everything stops. I’ve been feeling the shift back to our base since I ended up outside her door, but this verifies that I’m not just seeing and hearing what I want to.
“Then don’t miss me anymore,” I can’t stop myself from grabbing her hand. “If you open the door for this… if there’s still a place for me in you… You’ll never have the chance to miss me again, because I’m never letting you go,” I confess and beg in the same breath.
She has no reason to believe in me, but it doesn’t stop me from laying my heart and soul out anyway.
Her eyes bounce between mine as if she’s trying to find the doubt, but there is none.
I don’t know what the hell has happened over the last few months, but somewhere along the way, my seventy-two-hour layover guest redefined the exceptions for my life.
Talk about a mindfuck. And if she thinks I’m lying about following her, she’s got another thing coming.
I will go to the ends of the earth to be with this woman.
I’m too scared to say anything else, and let the silence hang between us.
“Your words hurt me, Jax. I felt so cheap,” she says it so matter-of-factly, as a single tear cuts down her cheek.
“With every piece of me, I promise to never compromise what we have in any way, ever again.”
“It’s going to take time to fully trust you. Even if you give me a daily paint color.”
“I will prove myself every single day, Della,” I assure her. “I will never hurt you again.” Her hand is still in mine, and I take every minute that goes by as a good sign.
“So does this mean we’re dating or something?” she chuckles as she wipes a tear, referencing our prior conversation.
“I’d wife your ass up right now if I could.” Her face drops in shock as my hand goes over my mouth. “I mean, not really. I was just trying to be funny. I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. Not now. Maybe. I mean, I would if you said okay. Holy shit, Della. Let’s just forget I said that.”
She just gives me a tight smile and nods her head.
“I’m serious, though, I am all in on this. On us,” I gesture between our bodies.
She keeps nodding like a bobblehead. I’m not sure if it’s to keep the emotion at bay or if she just can’t think of something to say.
“I’m going to seal my promise with a kiss, Della,” I say, not waiting for a response before I lean in. The moment our lips touch, the rightness of the universe clicks back into place. The kiss turns greedy quickly, and when my fingers weave into her hair, I let the feeling pull me under.
This is where we belong, wrapped up in each other.
My other hand finds her waist, and I pull her in, anchoring her to me.
She doesn’t know the power of the moment, but with her in my arms, I know this is where I want to be for the rest of my life.
The wife comment came out at the wrong time, but the sentiment remains.
If she wanted to get married tomorrow, I wouldn’t hesitate. She is my forever.
Pulling away, I see the tight smile has been replaced with the kind of smile that makes her nose crinkle up. It’s my favorite face she makes.
“Okay, but can we talk about tonight? Your art show was arguably the best thing Painted Heart has ever seen. Tell me about it from your point of view,” I ask.
She beams, and her eyes light up in a different way. “It didn’t go how I expected it to, but I was surprised in the best way.”
“How so?” I ask as I sit on the couch and pull her onto my lap. I have weeks of missing her touch to make up for.
“I can’t believe how many red dots there were on my pieces,” she admits.
I’m sure she doesn’t know that everyone in my family purchased one of her pieces, as did Kellen and Molly.
“And beyond that, I can’t believe how many people showed up; both people I knew and strangers. It was unexpected and exciting. I sold all but two paintings, which is…”
“Well deserved,” I interject as my hand can’t help but trace imaginary shapes on her thigh.
“I can’t believe how many ranch people were there. I expected your family to a degree, but so many people I’ve met since I’ve been here came.”
“We’re a family. A twisted, crazy, drink too much, fuck too much, curse too much family, but the way this group of people comes together can’t be quantified. We show up for each other, always. I wish I could keep this staff year-round.”
“I didn’t know what that really meant. I do now,” she says. “So where are you going to put Love’s First Light?”
“Above my bed,” I say without hesitation. I’ve had that mapped out since I knew it was going up for sale.
“Why there?”
“That painting is you, Della. It’s a physical representation of how you are my first thought in the morning and my last thought before I sleep.”
“But what if I’m in your bed?” she asks.
“Then I get a double dose, and I’d never complain about that.”
“You don’t have to pay that amount of money for it,” she says.
“The transaction has already been processed, and I’m not canceling it. I was serious about what I said earlier. You get to choose your path, and that will help support whatever one you choose. Besides my purchase, did you do well?”
“Rose was talking to me, but after I heard about the money spent on the first painting, everything else just kind of got lost. She’s emailing me the spreadsheet; in fact, I bet that email has come through.”
Knowing she’s going to be emotional when she sees who else has supported her, I steal a couple more minutes on the couch before letting her up. If there is any lingering doubt about whether she is meant to stay here, I hope this email squashes it.
She dances over to her phone and dances back, sitting on my lap on her own accord and leaning against the arm of the couch. She’s vibrating with excitement as she opens the email.
I don’t need to read the email. I’m more interested in watching her.
I’m always more interested in watching her.
Her brows furrow up, and her eyes dance around the screen as her finger furiously scrolls back and forth.
“What is this?” she finally lifts her head to look at me.
“What?” I feign innocence.
“You bought the painting. For purchase price.”
“I did,” I reply.
“But you commissioned fifteen more? I didn’t quite understand Rose earlier. I just heard the number and my ears started ringing.”
“So she and I have had several conversations leading up to today,” I smile. Rose and I are besties at this point. I’ve spoken to her more in the last week than I’ve spoken to my own parents.
“She didn’t know it was you,” Della slowly says, as if she’s trying to figure out what happened.
“Oh, she knew. I asked her to keep it confidential. Overpaying for the painting had a whole bunch of tax liabilities that I didn’t want to come back on her or you.
The additional fifteen commission pieces are for our fifteen luxury cabins.
Original pieces will make them that much more extraordinary.
I don’t care where you do them or the timeline you do them, just know they have a place here. Just like you.”
She looks at me with an unreadable face for a minute before she speaks. “I would like to personally thank Sir Magnum Biggs for his generous donation to my cause.”
“No, he is expecting no such thing,” I say in surprise.
“You’re telling me he would not enjoy an enthusiastic thank you,” she replies.
“The only thing he wants is you staying in my arms,” I say.
And that’s the honest-to-God truth.