One Bossy Offer (142)





A couple days later, I wake up in our suite and see the balcony doors are open.

Miles sits in the sunlight outside with a canvas on an easel in front of him and a standing palette beside him.

His bare torso is beautiful in the sunlight. He’s working shirtless with a cup of coffee beside him.

I laugh as I pad over.

“Good morning, Mrs. Cromwell.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

“I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

“You’re painting here? Really? Talk about dedicated.”

“I’m working on my wife’s wedding gift. Want to come help?”

“Sure!” Too curious, I lean over the bed, find my discarded nightgown, and pull it over my head.

Then I go to the balcony to help Miles with his painting.

I should know better by now, but I’m still not prepared.

It’s me.

Me, shimmering like this fairy-tale goddess walking out of a sapphire ocean onto the beach of Turks and Caicos that looks so much like the pristine white sands below us.

“I can’t believe you like to paint me,” I whisper, wringing my hands.

“Believe it, kitten. You’re beautiful, you’re mine, and you’re useful. Not every artist has his own model. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of it constantly.”

I smile. He leans forward and kisses me.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s more PG-rated than the last one.” But honestly, I’ll always adore everything he paints.

“There’s a reason it’s tame. This one is going in our bedroom. I’m almost done. You want to do the last stroke?” He holds out the paintbrush.

I look from the brush to the painting, then to the palette standing beside him.

Oof.

I have no idea how to finish it or what this last stroke even is. “Not sure... I’m a little afraid I’ll mess it up.”

“You won’t. Let me show you.” He hands me the brush.

I take it gingerly.

His fingers fold over mine, gently guiding the brush to goddess me’s ring finger. The last stroke starts as a squiggle. I’m sure it’s going to ruin everything.

But when we remove the brush, goddess me has a bee-shaped wedding ring on her finger.

“There. She’s taken now,” he says.

I smile like I’m one with the dreamy warmth streaming into our room. The same warmth that’s shining inside me.

I drop the brush on the palette, lean over, and kiss him.

He deepens the kiss which takes on a life of its own until he picks me up and carries me to bed. He lies down beside me, and after the scorching kiss I expect he’s looking for more—and I’m ready and willing.

“What do you think about expanding our family?”

“More dogs?” I hold my breath.

“Eventually. I had something a little more delicate in mind before that, though.”

His hand slides down my side and curls up until his palm settles over my belly.

This man.

I kiss him long and slow, showing him how much I love that idea.

“Soon, Miles. I’d like that a lot.” I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I didn’t realize we never had this conversation until I was about to walk down the aisle and I started freaking out a little. Then I read Gram’s letter...”

“So, you’re saying I should thank Lottie for you not jilting me at the altar?”

Grinning, I smack him playfully. “Thank her for bringing me to my senses, sure. But I always knew we’d get through it.”

“We will, kitten. We’ve already proven we can make it through anything.”

The next time he kisses me, I’m smiling with the same loving happiness in that painting.

Unlike his painted women, I’m grateful that I get to be the only one who ever touches this god, this man who picked up a brush and offered me a destiny I couldn’t refuse.





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Do Not Disturb (Piper)





So, this is heaven.

The salt-scented air is toasty, but there’s just enough ocean breeze to keep it cool. I set my glass down on the table with a clink and pick up my phone.

It’s hard to tear my eyes away from the palm trees swaying in the trade winds and the picturesque ocean view beyond them.

Lanai is something, all right.

Like pure magic scooped out of a dream and left to melt in the hot sun of mundane life.

Even with the usual worries, it’s hard not to bask in Hawaiian wonder.

How’s Dad? I text Maisy.

Maisy: Dude. You’re in Hawaii and you’re texting about Dad? How’s paradise? Send photos! She adds a nervous emoji at the end.

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