Limitless Love (Lotus House #4)(54)
“Uh, yeah. Perfect as a peach,” I stuttered, and he frowned.
“We were just suggesting that our Monet work on clearing her heart chakra and spend a little quality time with Dara, our meditation expert.” Jewel looked over my shoulder to where Dara was serving the myriad customers lined up.
Clayton chuckled. “Her heart chakra needs clearing?” He shook his head and sighed.
“You don’t believe in aligning and cleansing your chakras?” Crystal asked in a way that was questioning, rather than judgmental.
I worked on perfecting that particular talent daily with my clients, and she had the natural gift in spades.
The big guy set down a tray filled with a variety of treats and what looked like a couple of lattes. My mouth watered at the sight, especially since I hadn’t eaten much of my lunch. He must have caught on to that because there were enough treats on his plate to feed an army.
“I don’t not believe.” Clayton held out a chair for me to sit in. It was catty-corner to the yogis’ table. “I say, to each his own.” He shrugged, not exactly dismissing the conversation but showing that he didn’t really concern himself with such things.
Jewel glanced at Crystal and then back at me. “Perhaps you both need a little cleansing. Though I’ve got the feeling that between the two of you, that heart chakra blockage is going to soon be a thing of the past.”
Crystal nodded and beamed, her entire face lighting up as if the sun shone directly down on her in a blinding ray of light. Definitely one of God’s angels.
Clayton sat down next to me, grabbed my hand, and kissed my fingertips. “I’ll be taking good care of her heart, so you needn’t worry, ladies. Isn’t that right, Monet?”
My cheeks warmed, and I nodded. Everything inside me filled with optimism. Without laying my heart fully on the line, I would give what I could.
“I hope so.”
Chapter Twelve
A heart chakra couple will have more opportunities for happiness than opportunities for unhappiness. Typically, marriages driven by the heart chakra are long lasting. Together they work through their karma and cleanse their consciousness of negativity.
CLAYTON
Over the next couple weeks, we fell into a routine. We’d pick up Lily from school, do homework, play games, and watch movies. This morning, Monet informed me that the last of her tape from her injury had fallen away. A month had passed since the attack, and she was doing really well. Amazingly so. In celebration, we’d picked up The Lego Movie, which I found rather awesome. The new graphics in these films were way beyond my day. And the fact that Lily chose what she considered a “boy movie” just for me made my heart swell. I had to admit, it was a damn good movie. The story was sound and the antics between the Lego characters pretty funny. While we watched, Monet cuddled along my side. Both my girls snuggled right up next to me. It was a surreal moment—one I’d take with me to my grave as one of the best.
While Monet put Lily to bed, I devised my plan for seduction. I wanted inside my woman fully. We’d held off on the more robust sexual activities due to the stitches and her discomfort. The stitches had been out for two weeks now, and the tape was gone. She was free and clear to be ravished and I could not wait. We needed to surpass this last physical hurdle. Tonight, I planned on touching every inch of her body and making her mine. No more worries, just the two of us connecting in the most honest way possible. She needed to know how amazing I found her, scars and all.
While Monet led Lily to her room, I locked up the house, closed all the blinds, started the dishwasher, and made sure everything was put away for the evening.
Walking through the house, it dawned on me how at ease I was in Monet’s home. I hadn’t spent a night in my own apartment in a long time and I did not miss it. Not even a little. My woman had a way of making me feel welcome. Even the decorating was conducive to hanging out and staying a while. The entire house felt like a home; it didn’t just look like one. She had deep, comfortable couches and plenty of pillows that were often thrown to the floor for relaxing on. Blankets in baskets were within reach. Side tables and end tables we put our feet on without worrying about scratching the surfaces. I also appreciated the art on the walls with the muted and cheery vibe.
As I made my way down the long hall to her master bedroom, I noted all the pictures on the walls. Family was important to Monet, even if she didn’t have much anymore. Pictures of her grandparents, her mother, half sister, and an entire wall of Lily from birth to now spanned the long pathway. Mila as well as Atlas had been added to the “wall of fame” as I called it. I fingered the last picture that depicted Mila, Atlas, Monet, and Lily at a pumpkin patch and wondered when I’d be added to her wall. Soon, I hoped.
I entered Monet’s bedroom and tugged off my T-shirt, tossing it toward the hamper but not quite making it in. Sitting next to it I noticed a folded basket of clothes. All mine and all clean. She’d done my laundry and had placed it neatly into the basket. As much as I liked seeing my clean clothes in here, a hell of a lot, it burned that they weren’t inside a drawer or hanging in the closet.
Cringing, I picked up the basket and set it on the bed. Then I went over to the closet, flicked on the light, and walked in. Monet had a lot of clothes, as I imagined any woman would. Suits, skirts, and dresses hung to the far back and blouses on another side. To the right was an open space that had shelving about four feet high where Monet’s shoes were lined up neatly and efficiently. Above that space were jewelry boxes and various knickknacks, but higher up, a solid three feet of hanger bar was empty. It ran along the entire space and would be perfect. For me.