“I thought we didn’t have a dessert,” she said as her gaze connected with mine.
The devious smile I sent her spread goosebumps over the skin on her arms.
“Oh,” she said breathlessly. “Dessert.”
I stood up from the table and held out my hand. Her eyes scanned my body, soaking in the moment before she stood up and slipped her perfect hand into mine. I leaned over and blew out the candles, leaving all the dishes on the table while I guided her up the stairs.
All the stuff in the kitchen could wait.
Right now, all I wanted was to lose myself in her body and taste her on my tongue.
Chapter 22
Hailey
I woke up that morning to find a note on the pillow next to my head. I stretched, feeling the empty side of Bryan’s bed, and sighed. I’d been looking forward to waking up with him that morning, but as I rolled over and took a look at the time, I realized I was going to be late for work. I grabbed the note and unfolded it, knowing I wouldn’t have enough time to go home and change before I had to open the gallery today.
But as the words jumped off the piece of paper he’d left for me, tears of gratitude rose to my eyes.
Hailey,
You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. Had some issues at a site, so I had to leave early. There’s a thermos of coffee made for you and a bagel with cream cheese in the fridge. Take it with you and eat. Your clothes are in the dryer, so they’ll at least be clean for work. I’ll talk with you soon. I hope you slept well.
Bryan
I squealed as I held the note close to my chest. I tumbled out of bed and headed toward his bathroom where I cleaned myself up with the things he’d set out for me. A disposable toothbrush and some of his facewash were all I could use. I tried to fluff my hair a little bit, studying the color and the length before I resolved myself to another haircut.
It was getting too long, and the color didn’t seem right anymore.
I raced downstairs and found his dryer before I threw my clothes on. I ripped the fridge open and grabbed the bagel, the cinnamon swirls making me smile before I grabbed the thermos of coffee. I didn’t know how long it had been sitting there, but the fact that it was still warm was impressive, to say the least. I noticed the kitchen had been cleaned up and the dishes had been put away, and it made me wonder how early Bryan had been up this morning.
I dashed out of his house and raced to my car, speeding to work with thoughts of his body on my mind.
I scarfed down the bagel as I tore through the streets of San Diego. If I could hit all the lights just right, I knew I’d still make it in time to open the gallery. I weaved through traffic, shoving the bagel into my mouth before I finally skidded into the gravel parking lot that the tires of my car were now calling home.
But the moment my eyes descended onto the wreckage of my gallery, my eyes glossed over with tears.
The front door had been busted in, and the window was shattered. I swallowed hard before I grabbed my coffee, looking to see if anyone was in there. I tentatively stepped out of the car and called out, tears streaming down my face as I tried to spook them into coming out.
When no one rushed out of the building, I finally found the courage to walk inside.
I drew in a shaky breath as my eyes scanned across the carnage. Holes were in the walls. Paintings were punctured and lying on the floor. Tubes of paint from my little shop in the back were opened with their colors squirted all along the walls. Hundreds of dollars’ worth of paintings were ruined, lying in their untimely deaths on the onyx floor that was now ruined from the paint tubes leaking onto them.
Then, a horrifying thought dawned in my mind. My storage shed. John’s paintings.
The thermos dropped from my hand, tumbling to the floor as I sprinted across the gallery. I ripped the back door open and found them safe and sound without a mark of anger on them. I sighed with relief while my chest hiccupped with my sobs, and instantly, I felt a headache growing at the front of my head.
“Shit,” I said, moaning.
I walked back into the gallery and searched underneath the busted counter for my medicine bottle. I opened it up and popped two pills, hoping it would abate the headache I knew would rage out of control. Anna had been trying to get me to go to the doctor for my stress headaches, but for now, they were manageable with basic migraine medication.
But this one qu
ickly grew to epic proportions, forcing me to run to the bathroom where I vomited up the pills as well as the bagel.
Who would do something like this? Who would come to a place of beauty and reverence and peace and destroy it the way they had? There were no cameras. There was no security of any sort in this place. It was something I told myself I’d eventually invest in, but now, it would do me no good.
Now, when I needed it the most, my intentions and my future plans were null and void.