Page 69 of Embraced at Seaside
“It’s so graceful. The arch of her neck, the movement of her legs and shoulders.” She absently reached up and touched her neck. “It’s powerful, and beautiful, and looks like she’s actually in motion, the way the skirt appears to be moving. I’ve never seen anything so…so…feminine and natural.”
“You were the perfect muse.”
She glanced up at Hunter, tears filling her eyes again, and mouthed,Me?
He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged shyly. “Who else?”
Her knees weakened at the love in his voice and the idea that he saw her in the magnificent sculpture he’d created. Drawn to this piece of him, this vision he’d had, she stepped forward and ran her fingers over the circles and oblong pieces of shiny metal and mirrors that covered the woman’s breasts. Her hand came back to her own body, and she touched the curve of her hip.
“Me?” she repeated, unable to see herself in the glorious woman before her. “But she looks sofree.” Was this his way of telling her he was leaving? Setting her free? Showing her this incredible piece of art first, so she wouldn’t stand in his way?
“I call herEmerging Elegance.” He looked at the sculpture, as if he were studying it. His eyes were narrowed, focused, as he spoke. “I watched you dance that night at the studio, and you looked freer than I’d ever seen you before. Like you disappeared into the music, as if it transported you somewhere only you could see.”
Her breathing became shallow as she listened to him describe exactly what she felt every time she danced. He saw what no one else had ever taken the time to notice.
“Last night you were stunning on the dance floor. I’m surprised there weren’t more guys pawing at you.”
She lifted tear-filled eyes to apologize and he pressed his finger to her lips.
“Shh. Let me finish. Please.”
He walked around the sculpture, and touched a corded piece of metal that wound around the upper thigh, across the lower belly, then frayed up by the shoulder.
“At first, with us. With me,” he said. “You were bound by your own tethers. Rigid. Closed off. But slowly you’ve broken free of the memories, the heartaches, that imprisoned you.”
My ghosts.
He touched the shiny metal pieces that formed a tank top, the strap on the left shoulder whole, while the strap on the right was shredded apart, jagged and torn, leaving that shoulder bare. “You’ve opened up to me, and you’ve trusted yourself enough to try to trust me.”
Life is so much better with you in it.
Jana was no longer looking at the sculpture; she was watching him. In awe of his ability to see into her heart, into her soul, and understand exactly what she’d been feeling over the last few weeks. But why now? Why would he choose this moment to show her how well he knew her? She tried to swallow the emotions clogging her throat, but when he turned his warm gaze on her, their visual connection deepened the significance of his words, and she realized he’d been trying to tell her all along.
“I purposely didn’t create a face, because your face…man. Jana, your face…”
The way he said it, breathless and painful, like something about her face destroyed and completed him at once, had her reaching up and touching her cheek.
He lifted his eyes to hers again, and everything else faded away. The air pulsed. His energy drew her closer. For a moment she didn’t think he was going to say another word, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hear it if he did. And then he touched her fingers, and sparks radiated up her arm, shocking her brain back to life.
“Jana.” The lapels of his suit coat rose with each inhalation as he stepped closer. “Your eyes tell the world you’re strong, that you don’t need anyone’s approval or help, while they unveil all your truths to me. I see your desire to be loved, cherished, adored, and I see your fear of the same.” He smiled, paused briefly, like he was remembering her in those moments. “The set of your lovely, rounded chin”—he curled his finger under her chin again—“tells others of your iron will, but it shows me what lies beneath, your heart, afraid of being hurt.”
He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “And this sassy, smart mouth tells everyone else that there’s nothing in the world you can’t handle, but a single press of your lips, a whisper of my name in a certain cadence, reveals your deepest fears and insecurities. I couldn’t create your face, Jana, because I couldn’t share all of that specialness with the world. Selfishly, I wanted to keep something just for me.”
He leaned in close, and she clutched at his jacket, needing his strength to counter her wobbly knees and expanding heart, which felt like it might burst through her chest.
It took all of her focus to push his name from her lips. “Hunter?” She tightened her hold on his jacket, her eyes moving over the lighted trees, the flowers, the sculpture, and finally, the face of the man she loved more than life itself. “What is all this?”
He got down on one knee and reached behind the sculpture, presenting her with a large wooden box. “This is romance. My girl likes romance.”
Her limbs trembled. “But—”
“Please, pretty girl. Please don’t fight me on everything tonight.”
Pretty girlbrought a rush of tears, and she closed her eyes against them.
“Open your eyes, baby. Everything you want is right in front of you.” He opened the box, revealing some type of doorknob with a lot of buttons beneath it.
“I don’t understand. You’re offering me a doorknob?”
