You know when you see someone from afar and it’s almost like seeing them with new eyes?
Not that I need new eyes to see Blake’s charisma, charm, and drop-dead gorgeous physique. But it’s like I’m starting at zero again, and I’m falling all over again. Even with the memory of the night we’ve spent together fresh in my mind.
I’m wearing knee-high boots and a short, high-necked dress. Sexy, not slutty. I think he feels me there because he turns and looks in my direction. He smiles, turns back to the group, says something, and then he’s headed toward me on his crutch. The belt I made for him is on display, the front of his shirt just barely tucked in.
“Glad you’re here. I thought I was going to have you kidnapped.” He kisses both cheeks, then kisses my nose, and I laugh.
“Hi,” I say.
“I have something to show you, Hayden.”
“Okay.”
I follow him around the corner—to where an entire wall is devoted to me. Seven large canvases displaying multimedia artwork that all incorporate a photograph of me, mostly being silly, of course.
Walking past each one I notice they’re all titled Muse, but with different dates. Dates from when he took them. They all have SOLD signs on them.
“All sold?” I ask.
“I could never part with these. I put the signs on them myself. They’re not for sale,” he says.
One is from that night across the street from the restaurant. It’s a semi-candid moment where I’m standing in front of the sign, looking down to step off the curb. He zoomed in to catch the wind blowing my hair off my face.
“I like this one the best,” he says. “You look so stunning and unself-conscious. I guarantee everyone who sees this picture will want to know and love you.”
I’m almost in tears when I turn to him and say, “They’re beautiful. I’m overwhelmed. I’m honored, Blake.”
He leans forward and kisses me gently on the lips. “Were you really not going to show?”
I laugh. “You outdid yourself with the phone calls and texts.”
“You said to use the phone.”
“But the postcard really put me over the edge.”
He squints. “Postcard?”
“That was from me,” comes a voice from behind us.
It’s Caroline. I’m nervous but I shouldn’t be because she’s smiling. She walks toward us and I’m glad to see she’s not holding a Frappuccino this time. Blake is smiling, too. I take that as a good sign.
“CC,” he says.
“Blakey, Hayden. I wanted to come here and say congratulations to you, Blake, on the show. It’s amazing. I’m proud of you. You are so talented and I don’t know why I couldn’t see that before.”
“C—”
“No, listen, Blake. I just wasn’t happy myself. I needed to grow a spine. I needed to grow up. Daddy is retiring, things are wonderful,” she turns to me, “and I’m finally feeling good in my skin, thanks to you, Hayden. I personally wanted to say to you that I know Blake well. I’ve known him for a long time. There’s no one I’d rather see him with than you.” She hugs us both at the same time and says, “Take care of each other.” And then she’s gone before we can even get a word out.
Blake is looking in her direction and smiling. I’m in shock. Did we really just get her blessing?
“Will you miss her?” I ask.
“She’ll always be in our life. But this is right.” He turns to me, curves his hand around the back of my neck, and kisses me, deeply this time.
I keep thinking how he said our life. The hormone gang is high-fiving each other.
“What now?” I ask.
“Celebratory banana splits and bourbon?”
I nod. “I also like the way we watch Game of Thrones.”
He grins. “Yeah, me, too. We do watch TV well.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Among other things.”
I grin back, staring into his eyes, and my heart feels like it’s going to burst. I’ve been shopping for years and years, but always for other people—I’ve never put myself first. This time, I’m going to choose for myself. And I choose Blake.
I kiss him long and hard, and we walk out of the gallery hand in hand.
About the Author
Renée Carlino is a USA Today bestselling author of women’s fiction and contemporary romance. Her novels have been featured in Cosmopolitan, InStyle, Redboook, Sunset, Coastal Living, and Latina Magazine. She currently resides in a sleepy Southern California beach town with her husband and two young sons.
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Renee Carlino, Shopping for Love (BookShots Flames)
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