Page 83 of Twin Deception

Having another job to move on to also seemed to help her adjust to the loss.

“Whatisthat?” I asked as I walked up to where she’d set up her materials for a new mural. This one was the eccentric art gallery owner in Tampa. The older woman had been so happy that Isabel could start on it sooner than she’d estimated. We’d come together for her to start, and I had to say that I was looking forward to this.

No jobs of my own to stress about. No worries about traveling or having the right intel to pull off a hit. All I had to do was love her and protect her, both of which I planned to do until the end of my life.

“You can’t tell?” She stepped back from the wall where she’d drawn… something on it. Up on a crane, she paused in the middle of the platform.

In overalls, her hair piled up in a messy bun atop her head, and a paint-splattered orange tank top barely concealing her huge tits, she beamed down at me. Brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes, she turned to gaze at the rough sketch that she’d fill in.

“No.” I shook my head slowly as I climbed the small lift that she’d rented to reach up high on the wall. “I can’t tell what it is.”

“Miguel, you’re not supposed to climb that like that!” She laughed, though, not really worried about my climbing the outside rungs of the crane.

I reached her on the platform, wrapping my arms around her as I stood behind her. Together, we faced the brick wall she’d fill in with color.

“That’s the neck, and those are the shoulders.” She lifted her arm, pointing and describing as she leaned back against me.

“Okay… but the neck and shoulders of what?” I asked, lowering my head until I rested my chin on top of hers. Addicted to her scent, I lowered my face to sniff her jasmine-scented hair.

“A flamingo!” She laughed lightly.

“A flamingo has shoulders?”

“This one does.” She continued describing the drawing. “That’s the bottom of the head. Over there is the tip of a wing. The sun there and the moon right here.” Still aiming her finger and lifting her arm to gesture, she grew more animated and excited. She really was passionate about art.

“Did you pick the design?”

“Nope. The owner insisted on it. She drew it herself.” She shrugged, sighing as she relaxed against me. “Because between you and me, it doesn’t look like a damn flamingo.”

“Hmmm. It’ll look good, anyway,” I said, hugging her close.

“How did that call go?” she asked, knowing full well that I had planned to drive around in Acapulco to speak with Rueben aboutthe gossip that circulated after that day in the office where her family tried to use her and have her killed. I’d been gone in Mexico the whole day, following up with former contacts and people I knew from my hit jobs, just to make sure there were no loose threads that had to be tied up or dealt with.

“Good. News has been spreading far and fast.” I rested my cheek on the top of her head, still staring at the drawing she’d fill in with paint.

“And what’s the consensus?”

“The consensus of everyone who’d dealt with the Flores family isgood riddance.”

“Whew.” She sagged against me. “Good. And what about your retirement?”

I smiled. “Also good riddance. Some people seem to think I’ll get bored and want back in, but that won’t happen.”

She lowered my hand to rest it over her stomach. “No, it won’t.”

I threaded my fingers with hers. “I can’t see how it could ever be boring with babies on board.”

“Miguel!” She laughed.

“What? You were a twin. Maybe we’ll have twins.”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “Nope.”

I raised my brows, looking at her. “Did the doctor confirm that?”

She licked her lips. “Well, since my HGC levels were so high, they wondered if I would be having twins…”

“Okay…” I smiled.

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