Page 143 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She studied her sketch, tilting her head and chewing that plump bottom lip, and it took everything I had to stay where I was instead of stalking over, hauling her over my shoulder, and kissing her, touching her, stroking her until she gasped. She chewed her lip in concentration before selecting the colors and squeezing dollops onto her palette.

This was better. Watching her work, watching her pick up paint on her brush and light up as she dragged the first stroke of paint onto her canvas. Watching her relax into it, fall into her rhythm. Glance at me, back at the canvas, stroke. Glance at me, back at the canvas, stroke.

The spell she wove around me intensified, wafting through my head, and now I couldn’t move if I tried.

I reached a new level of contentment, watching her paint, her eyes cutting from her canvas to me, her mouth curling up on instinct every time our gazes met. The soft light from the fireplace on her skin. No makeup, hair pulled off her face, in a sweater and leggings.

Fucking hell, she was gorgeous. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I’d do anything to keep her like this, in her element and at ease. Her tea sat untouched on the coffee table while she worked.

While she worked, I thought about our life together. Fucking hell, I wanted to marry her. I wanted her so bad, painting like this in a home we shared, trusting me and leaning on me and bossing me around like she owned me.

I closed my eyes a moment and swallowed.

She owned me. She owned me through and through. When she was ready, we’d get married. My mind flicked to my grandmother’s ring, passed down to my dad. I hadn’t seen it in years because it was locked away in a safe but I never forgot the bright, captivating glow of the yellow center diamond.

I wanted to give it to Sadie, if she wanted it. When the time was right.

“I’m done.”

Her mouth twisted to the side, chewing and biting her lip with uncertainty as she glanced between me and the painting. I gave her a questioning look.

She let out a nervous laugh. Her forehead pinched and fear streaked through her eyes.

“Honey.” My voice was low.

Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. Her bravery made my heart ache.

“I’m in love with you,” I told her. “Anything you paint, I’ll love, because it’s a part of you.”

She nodded and I could see that my words sunk into her, and that she believed them. She stood and turned the canvas, careful not to smear the wet paint.

It was me, but it was her version of me, and when I saw it, I knew Sadie Waters loved me right back. It was the soft affection in my eyes, with careful, serious watchfulness. The wistfulness in my heart every time I thought about falling in love, written all over my expression on the canvas.

My chest ached and I studied the painting. The long lines of my arms and legs. The unruly mess of my hair. The pull of my t-shirt over my chest and shoulders. My eyebrows rose and I narrowed my eyes at her.

“You gave me extra muscles.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I promise I didn’t. You’re a beautiful guy, Holden Rhodes.”

My throat worked as I stared at the painting of myself. Sadie had captured my soul and painted it onto this canvas.

I met her gaze and listened to my pulse in my ears.

Her eyes changed. The softness spiked with terror, and her eyebrows lifted but her gaze stayed locked on mine, like she couldn’t let it go.

“I’m still scared,” she whispered.

I nodded. “I’m scared, too, baby. Now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you.”

Her throat worked and she clutched her arms around herself.

I held my arms out. “Come here.”

She wandered over and I pulled her into my lap. She straddled my hips and my head fell back against the chair as my hands rubbed up and down her back, slow and steady.

Her weight on my lap felt incredible and blood surged to my cock. “Let’s go to bed.”

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