Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“And you’re having trouble picking?”
“Yes and no. See, they picked me after they saw my work at the show you guys set me up with. That show had my classic work. The definition of who I’ve been publicly as an artist. But I want to include something different and daring for me. But should I? Or should I stick to safe over daring?”
“Safe is average,” Chris says, stepping into the doorway. “Decide if you want to be average, and you have your answer.” He disappears into the hallway.
Sara lifts a hand. “There you go. Your answer.”
“Well, the thrust is that I’m not feeling like playing it safe or being average. As proof, I’m not only here instead of at the winery, but I agreed to move in with Nick.”
“You did? Wow. Yay! That’s huge.”
“It is, and it was also an easy decision thanks to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. You said: What if there is no tomorrow? Those are my new words to live or die by.”
She smiles and stands up, exiting the office. I pull up the Forum paperwork in my email and fill it all out. I enter An Eye for an Eye as my final piece. I then text Nick: I did it. My entry for the Forum is complete.
He surprises me by texting back a picture of An Eye for an Eye that I didn’t know he’d taken: Did this masterpiece make the cut?
I smile and type: Yes. It did, and why do you have that picture?
His reply is instant: Reminding myself to be the same kind of badass you are today.
I smile, warmed inside and out by this man in ways I didn’t know I could feel warm. As for being a badass, Nick is the ultimate badass, while Macom is the ultimate asshole. I try not to think about how that might look when the two meet. Because they will meet, no matter what painting I place in that show. And they will clash, no matter how I try to stop them. And I’m not sure Nick is capable of war and peace. I’m pretty sure it’s all war to him.
And Macom aside, God, it’s sexy.
Our Thursday morning court date has arrived, and I’m a nervous wreck. I can’t paint, and I’m done with my show pieces, so I work out with Nick, and even a hard run doesn’t calm me down. Nick’s attempts at distracting me in the shower are completely effective, but the minute we’re dressed, my nerves are back. He dresses in a navy blue suit, and I pick a blue-and-silver tie to match and then help him knot it. My dress is black, with a tapered waist and flared skirt. My shoes, classic pumps. I have no idea why I picked black when funeral black is the last thing I need to be wearing today, but it’s too late. It’s what I have.
“Let’s go on to Sonoma when we’re done today,” Nick says, leaning on the doorframe.
“I thought we were going to wait until tomorrow. What if something goes wrong today?”
“It won’t. It’s going to go well. And rather than flying, we’ll drive. It’s not far, and we’ll have the BMW when we’re there.”
“You don’t want to drive my broken-down Mercedes?”
“Nothing against your broken-down Mercedes, but I prefer the BMW.”
I laugh. “Okay then. Let’s pack.”
“You don’t have to pack. You live here now. But I do, because I live there now, too.”
“Yes. You do. You need things there. Your things.”
His lips curve, and he says, “You’re my thing. But I’ll take some stuff anyway.”
“I’ll help you,” I say, and for the next few minutes, I busy myself gathering items for his suitcase and packing up the few items I want to carry back and forth with me. Once we’re done, we load up the car.
And then for the first time all week, Nick and I leave in one car, him behind the wheel of the BMW. By the time we get to the courthouse, my palms are sweaty. “Relax, Faith,” Nick says after opening my car door and helping me to my feet. “I’m an arrogant bastard for a reason. I’m good. Really damn good, and we’re going to win today.”
“But we’ve talked about this. What if someone is angry you got me out of this nightmare and they lash out at you? What if I’m the reason—”
“Stop,” he says, his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t start fretting over me. I pack a big punch. Anyone who comes at me is going to feel a hell of a lot of pain, and they know it. I got this, sweetheart, and I got you. Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, okay.” I flatten my hand on his lapel. “You are a badass.”
He rewards me with a curve of his delicious mouth. “You inspire me.”
I manage a laugh. “I’m not sure that is the way a woman wants to inspire a man.”