Chirp(80)

“Perfect fit. I love it.”

“I’ll buy you something bigger later. Say, maybe for our first anniversary.”

She switched on the bedside lamp, then poised her hand in midair. “I don’t remember ever seeing Dessie wear this.”

“After Pops died, she put it away. The middle stone is from her original engagement ring. He added the circle of diamonds for their twenty-fifth anniversary. It’ll have to play double duty for now, but later we’ll have a custom band done. Whatever you want.”

“Nothing could ameliorate this. That means make better or improve.”

He gathered her in his arms. “Damn, I’ve missed your word of the day.” From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the painting leaning against the opposite wall. “Holy shit!”

Chirp jumped at the outburst. “What?”

He pointed. “I thought you said nobody would see the picture you took in the barn. Damn, Chirp. You’ve painted me in living color on—what is that, a five-foot canvas?”

“Yeah.”

He ran his hand over his face. Something about seeing himself naked and supersized made him uneasy. He thought the exhibit paintings were bad, but this was pornographic. “Thank God you didn’t include this in the gallery.”

“You’ve been to Kennamer Gallery?”

“It’s how I found you. Well, one of the ways.”

She clutched her throat. “Since you found me, Marla can, too.”

He wrapped her in his arms. “It’s okay. By then we’ll be married, and no one can touch you.” For the next few minutes, he gave her the details of how he’d come to Austin and fate had intervened. That’s all it could have been. He’d had little clues, but someone upstairs made sure they’d been enough. Probably Gran.

Chirp shook her head. “Why is Helga helping the investigator?”

“I think she’s helping you, and that’s why he gave you a head start and came back to point me in the right direction.”

She turned to face him and narrowed her eyes. “Why would he do that?”

“From the way he looked at your former nanny, I’d say there’s something going on between them.”

“Oh. I guess that’s possible.”

“Yeah.” He pointed to the portrait again. “Now, about that. You’ve got to get rid of it.”

“Why? It’s art. And it helps when I—never mind.” She clamped her mouth tight.

“When you what?”

“Nothing.”

Well, well. Little Miss Innocent wasn’t so innocent. “Holy hell. You look at it while you Jill off, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with masturbating as long as you do it in private.”

Not a sign of embarrassment. He thought about the first time he met her. Naked in the tub. She’d been shameless that night. He didn’t think she had either emotion. But he did, and no way in hell he’d take a chance on the world seeing him in his birthday suit. The shadowed paintings were bad enough, but this one showed everything. He took a second to imagine her using it as an aid to pleasure herself. “I want to watch you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’d turn me on.”

Her eyes tracked south. “You’re already turned on just talking about it.”

He brushed his lips over hers. “Promise.”

“I won’t have to anymore because you’re here now.”

“Damn. I think you’re probably the only woman who’s ever fantasized about me while diddling the skittle.”

She shoved him. “You’re so nasty.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I’m the nastiest nasty boy you’ll ever have.”

“Stop talking.”

“No. Not until we settle this picture dilemma. There isn’t a single place you can hang that thing without the risk of someone seeing it. Do you want Hanna or Tiffany to see my junk? I don’t.” He rose from the bed and moved to the artwork.

Chirp laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, standing next to it. I did a really good job.”

Rance looked down at himself, then at the canvas. “Yeah, you did, but like you said, you have the real thing now, so you don’t need this.” He turned it to face the wall. “That’s better.” He crawled back into bed and spooned her close. “We need sleep. In the morning, we’ll get our license, and since there’s a three-day waiting period, you can use that time to plan the wedding.”

She snuggled into him. “I want to go home.”

“To Houston?”

“No. To Bluebird.”

He raised her face to his and kissed her. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?”

“No.”

“You saved me, Chirp. For the longest time I didn’t care about anybody but myself. Trust, compassion, love—well, those words weren’t in my vocabulary anymore, until you.”

She trembled in his arms.

He held her tighter. “Okay, I promise not to say any more mushy shit.”

“I like the mushy shit.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just held her until she drifted off to sleep, loving how she felt against him. Finally his world made sense, and he wasn’t about to let anyone take that away.