Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Okay, fine.
So maybe it looks like I’ve hijacked their space, but most of the craziness is controlled and focused around the nook by the large window.
What can I say? This room has the best light in the house, and a good artist never settles for less.
Also, there’s the fabric swatches lying across the seat. Little bits of inspiration I use to coordinate my colors on the huge, textured landscape we’ve been making. I won’t implicate Kit yet as my little helper.
So I stick my detail brush behind my ear and go to pick up the colorful material, packing them up neatly.
“Clee.” I love the way he growls my name, even when he’s annoyed.
“You’re fine. It’s all part of the process, my man.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you offered space to help me make some progress on my latest project. I took you up on your generous offer.”
I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. He grabs my waist with his big hands, pulling me against him.
For several long seconds, we melt together.
When I finally pull away, we’re nearly winded.
Is this really just week three of the hottest relationship of my life?
Situationship? Whatevership?
I can’t put a label on what we are. Especially after I told Holden to stop worrying and live in the moment.
It’s only fair I do the same thing. Just pretend we’re—
Together.
For now.
Ignore the aching certainty in my heart that the end is sooner than we think.
I smile up at him sleepily, and he smooths my hair back from my face.
“You’ve got paint in your hair,” he tells me.
“Yeah, it happens. I’ve got paint everywhere.” I sigh, pulling back just as I hear Kit sprinting downstairs.
The little girl’s energy always announces her, and I smile.
“Everywhere?” Holden growls against my ear.
“That wasn’t an invitation to find out.” Blushing, I swipe at his arm just as Kit barrels into the room.
“Whoa!” She stops.
“I have paint all over my clothes,” I say with as much dignity as I can muster. “And my hands. But not on any of your precious surfaces.”
I mean, probably.
“No plaster, either,” I say.
“Plaster?” Holden groans into his hand.
“Well, yeah. Kinda necessary for this. Come see.” I gesture to the canvas and nod at Kit.
I take his arm and beckon her forward, encouraging them to gather a few feet away from the enormous canvas.
The jewel-bright colors leap out like a window to another world, all warmth under the cool grey sky outside.
“Huh. Looks familiar. Where have I seen that pattern before?” Holden says knowingly from behind me.
I smile, knowing the Hera Egg’s glittering gems, gold, and navy blue inspired me.
“So pretty!” Kit reaches out, then glances back at me. “Can I touch it?”
“You can touch this part.” I tap the corner of the canvas that’s dried. “What do you think?”
She runs her small hand over the mountainous waves at the edge.
“They all feel different. Hard to tell just by looking, but it’s there,” Kit says, stroking the different textures. “The colors are amazing.”
“They turned out pretty. I wasn’t sure it would work until I found my rhythm,” I say with satisfaction, tapping the brush against my teeth as I think. “What else do you see in there?”
I wonder if she’ll notice.
I try not to smile and laugh as she pauses, scanning it in detail.
“…dragons? No way.” She turns to me.
I laugh.
A good textured art piece should behave like clouds. The viewer imagines whatever they want to in the swirling shapes and colors.
Honestly, I think that’s why they’re so popular, especially with the art deco lovers.
“Maybe a few, flying around like birds,” I say.
“What do you see? You made it, so you should have the final word,” Holden says gruffly. His knuckles brush gently down my spine.
A tiny gesture, but it nearly brings me to my knees.
God.
“Hmm.” I chew the end of my brush without thinking, and when I glance at Holden, he’s watching me intently. “I think I see cupped hands reaching out of the water.”
“Hands? What’s in them? The ocean? Sand?” Kit’s eyes search the canvas.
“Possibilities.”
“That’s not as fun.” I love her. The girl rolls her eyes at my vague answer and crouches by the colorful fabric I’ve piled in the corner in a box.
“I thought you stuck to 2D art these days?” Holden says over my shoulder.
“That’s my first love, sure, but it doesn’t sell too well beyond the occasional online commission. I bang the drum on social media, but it’s no moneymaker. But these?” I suck my teeth as I consider what it needs next. “These babies make rent money.”
“I like it,” he says.
Outside, the rain picks up, splattering the window. Holden slides his arm over my shoulders, tugging me into him, even with Kit right here.
I glance at him uncertainly.
He’s looking at me, but I can’t decipher that strange spark in his eyes. So many thoughts, swirling in the wind, and none of them are easy to read.