Rogue C58
“What?”
“I was just wondering where all of it goes.”
“The food?”
“Yeah. But then…” She lets her eyes trail down across my chest, down my body, hidden beneath the table. “It’s fairly obvious.”
I quirk my lips into a smile. “Are you implying that I need to go on a diet, Lily Marchand? What a rude thing to say.”
“Absolutely not. And don’t you get any more in shape, either, or I’ll never sleep with you again.”
I laugh, despite myself. “Isn’t that counterintuitive? Most women seem to want muscles. The more the merrier.”
“Yes, well, I’m not exactly in your kind of shape. It’s hard already to imagine taking my clothes off with all that going on.”This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.
Lily says it lightly, her eyes teasing, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s serious-if there’s a thread of insecurity lingering under her bravado. I remember the shy girl from all those years ago, her hands courageous but trembling.
And there is nothing even remotely wrong about her shape. There’s rather too much right about it, if parts of my anatomy have anything to say.
“Your body is insane, Lils.”
She laughs, a faint blush on her cheeks. “Hayden.”
“I’d want you regardless, you know. But that’s the truth. There’s no part of you that doesn’t entice me.”
“You haven’t seen me naked yet,” she says, voice amused. Her eyes promise pleasure, sending shocks of want through me.
“Of course I have.”
“I mean, not now. Not since you came back.”
“So?” I tap a finger against my temple. “Infallible memory.”
“I’ve changed, dumbass.”
I frown and pretend to look confused, letting my eyes wander over her collarbones, her smooth shoulders, the slopes of her breasts under the shirt. The curve of her waist before it dips out into hips that I remember gripping tightly.
“No,” I say. “I can’t see anything different. I’ll suppose I’ll just have to take a closer look to see.”
Lily grins at me. “I suppose you have to, then.”
“And when the time is right, I will.”
After dinner, I walk around her small house. It’s the first time I’m properly let in. The cottage might be small, but it’s cozy, and every inch of it bears her imprint. Its Lily’s personality come to life.
I pause at the framed pictures on the wall. One is Lily in her graduation gown from Yale. She’s posing in front a large brick building, her hair straight and gleaming, a cap on her head. There’s an unexpected stab in my chest at the sight. Yale, one of the many reasons I left-to ensure she got the future she deserved.
She pauses at my shoulder. “Oh. It was a massive ceremony.”
“Did your family come?”
“Yes, they drove up for the day. Henry came in from New York, Parker too.” She’s quiet for a beat. “Rhys was the only one who didn’t make it.”
“Rhys wasn’t there?” I find that hard to believe. The Marchands’ middle son had always been Lily’s protector, the one person who’d championed and understood her dreams of art.
She shakes her head. “No.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and press a kiss to her hair. There’s more, I’m sure, that’s happened in the years since I was last in her life on a daily basis. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
“What about this?” I point at a picture of Lily in front of a gallery. She’s wearing a sleek silk dress, her hair long and glorious over one shoulder. There’s a glass of champagne in her hand. Looking at her makes me want to stand next to her and wrap an arm around her waist. You can look, but not touch.
“A gallery opening. The first exhibition I curated myself.”
“In Manhattan?”
“Yes. It was modern art.”
“Do you miss it? The art scene.”
She shakes her head, and I’m close enough to see the freckles that smatter across her nose. “No. There was too much pretension. Art is supposed to make you feel, and it’s supposed to be fun. There’s skill to it as well, of course, but… I couldn’t stand those environments.”
I pull her toward the couch. She sinks down next to me. “And here in Paradise? There’s not much art around here.”
“Well… I sort of want to change that.” Lily’s smile is crooked, her eyes mischievous. It’s a look I recognize well. It means she’s about to say something to shock or tease me, or suggest we do something that will definitely land us in trouble.
“Tell me.”
“There’s a place on Porter Street. A small locale, nothing more. But it’s not too expensive, and I think I can get a good deal through Harris Development.”
“All right.”
“I’ll transform it. Art on the walls from people in the area, maybe showcasing art from further afield every now and so often. And I could host art classes.”
The excitement on her face stirs something similar in me. I can see her vision, and I know she’d execute it beautifully. “I think you should, Lils.”
“Really? I’d be using a fair bit of my trust to buy it. And it would be a risk. It might never make financial sense.”
I shrug. “And if it doesn’t, you’ll sell the place a few years down the line. It’s not a big deal.”
Her smile broadens. “I don’t know why I thought you’d caution me against this.”
“Me neither. Have you forgotten?” I lean forward, nipping at her earlobe, loving the sound of her laughter. “I’m the wild one, remember. The one from the wrong side of the tracks.”
“There are no tracks at all around here.”
“Which just goes to show how far from home I actually am.”
She smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back. “Most people in my life won’t approve,” she says. “Parker won’t understand. Mom will be cautiously optimistic, but she won’t get it. Dad will hate it. He’ll probably say I’m wasting my trust, my time and my talent.”