Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“New hard rule,” she whispers. “Possibilities.”
“Let’s go back and wait on them until we can say goodbye and get out of here.”
She nods. “Yes. Please.”
And with her hand in mine, I lead her toward the patio, but footsteps sound behind us, and Faith and I turn to find Chris and Sara returning. “You’re leaving,” Sara says, seeming to read our body language, her focus on Faith. “You have my email and phone number, right?”
“Yes,” Faith says. “And I’m excited about being a part of the gallery. Oh, and happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” she says. “I actually wanted you to come here tonight to give you a gift, Faith.”
“Me?” Faith asks. “I don’t understand.”
Chris reaches into the pocket of his jeans and produces a check. “I negotiated your price for the showing last weekend, as promised, Faith. You now get twenty thousand a painting and accept no less, or I will personally come kick your ass.” He looks at me. “Twenty thousand. Don’t let her get screwed.” He hands Faith the check. “Sixty thousand. You sold three paintings.”
Faith starts to tremble, and my arm goes to her waist, my hip pressed to hers. Her hand shakes as she accepts the check and looks at it. “I think…I…I’m going to cry, and I don’t cry.”
“Don’t cry,” Chris says. “Celebrate.”
Faith looks up at him. “I’m going to have to hug you,” she says, taking a step toward him and then grabbing Sara instead.
Sara laughs and hugs her. “Best birthday gift ever,” she says, and when Faith releases her, she adds, “You can hug Chris, too.”
Faith laughs through tears. “No. No, I… Thank you, Chris. And thank you, Sara.”
Chris grabs her and hugs her, giving me a look over his shoulder that is filled with admiration I see but Faith would dismiss. “She’s talented,” Chris says. “Take care of her and her gift.”
I nod, and damn, I want to take care of this woman.
We say our goodbyes and cross the gallery to exit to the street. We’re a few steps away from the door when Faith turns to me and holds up the check. “I can’t believe this just happened.”
“It didn’t just happen,” I say. “You started painting at age five.”
“I know, but it feels… I don’t know what I feel. But now the winery—”
I cup her face. “Do not make this about the winery. That is your money. That is your first big success.”
“But Nick—”
I kiss her. “No buts. We’ll deal with the winery. This is for you. Okay?”
“Yes. Okay.”
“Good. Now. Let’s go home.”
“Your home.”
“My home,” I say. “That is far better with you in it.” I turn her toward the car, and she’s still trembling. And the depth of her emotional response affects me. Everything about Faith affects me.
Thirty minutes later, Faith and I are standing by my bed, her shoes kicked off, and she is finally coming down from her high, her body calming. “I’m completely wiped out,” she says. “I think you are going to wish I was someone else tonight.”
I cup her head and pull her to me. “What did you say?” I don’t give her time to reply. “That came from someplace I’d most likely name as Macom. I’m not him. And we are more than the sum of how many times we manage to fuck each other. And for the record. To repeat what I’ve already said. I don’t want anyone else.”
Her lashes lower. “I think that was possibly the most perfect thing you could say to me right now.”
In that moment, I remember her comment about Macom competing with her, and I decide Faith thinks her success comes with punishment. A problem I need to fix. For now, I kiss her, a soft brush of lips over lips, before I turn her around and unzip her dress, dragging it down her shoulders. Her bra is next. Then her hose, but I leave the panties, and as much as it kills me, I hold up the blanket and urge her to climb under. She turns around and faces me, pressing herself against me.
“You feel good, sweetheart, but you’ll feel better when you’re rested. Climb into bed. I’ll be right there after I make sure I’ve locked up.”
“You, Nick, are nothing I expected.”
“You, Faith, are nothing I expected.”
She kisses my cheek, a mere peck, which might be the best kiss this woman has given me, and I don’t fucking have a clue why. It’s a peck, but it’s sweet. It’s emotional in some unnamed way, and I like it. She climbs into bed. My bed. And damn, I like her there more now than I did this morning. She snuggles down in the blankets, and I walk to the door, where I find myself just staring at her, watching as her breathing slows and turns even. She’s asleep. She trusts me. Damn it, I need to solve this mystery so I can tell her everything and deal with the aftermath.