CHAPTER TEN
Mila
* * *
It’s always the hardest question. How do you know when a painting is done?
I step back and examine the portrait of Cole, running my eyes over it and checking every detail. When I get to his eyes and I see that dark brown gaze staring so intensely at me, it takes my breath away. It always does. In real life and in acrylic.
My paintbrush hovers over his left shoulder. Maybe the shadows could be a bit darker here? No, it’s perfect.
I step back and put down the paintbrush.
I’m done.
“Time for a break?” Cole asks in that deep sexy voice of his.
I shake my head as tears flood my eyes. I don’t know why I always start tearing up at the end of a painting. Maybe it’s the release of tension, maybe it’s my artistic process, maybe it’s like I’m having to say goodbye to one of my children when it’s time to send them out into the world. Those are the normal reasons why I tear up, but with this painting, it feels different. Now that it’s over, I’m not going to be able to spend time with this amazing man every day.
“What is it?” Cole asks as he rushes over and gently holds my arms. He leans down so his face is in front of mine. “Why are you upset, Mila?”
I wipe the tears from my cheek, feeling like an idiot.
“Oh, I…” I say with a sniff. “I always get a little weepy when I finish a painting. I don’t really know why. It’s stupid.”
He smiles warmly at me. “It’s not stupid at all. You spend weeks creating a beautiful work of art, so it’s hard to let it go. You take out a piece of your soul and put it on the canvas. Of course you’re getting emotional.”
I stare into his deep loving eyes and then sink into his chest, loving the feel of his big comforting arms wrapping around me.
See? This is why I’m crying. This is why I’m going to miss him.
Most guys would have laughed at me for crying. They would have agreed that yeah, I’m being stupid.
But Cole gets it. He gets me.
He understands me on a deeper level. A level that I’m not quite sure I understand myself.
After spending almost every day and night with each other for the past three weeks, we’ve become incredibly in tune.
And I’ve fallen deeply in love with him.
“So, does that mean you’re finished?” he whispers as I get a hold of myself in his loving embrace.
I nod my head.
“Can I see it?”
I pull away from his chest and wipe the last trace of tears from my eyes. The weepy phase is over and now I get to bask in the joy and relief of having finished something.
“Close your eyes,” I say as I put my palm on his hard naked chest. He does.
God, he looks so cute and sexy and those lips look so tempting that I just have to kiss him. I press my lips to his and I feel his mouth smiling against mine.
“Sorry about that,” I say with a giggle when I pull away.
He shakes his head with a playful frown. “Totally unprofessional. Do you always kiss your models?”
“Only the ones I find irresistible,” I say with a lick of my lips.
“That better only be me.”
“Don’t worry. It is.
“Okay,” I say as I take his big hand and guide him in front of the painting. “Open them.”
I stare at his face as he opens his eyes and sees the painting for the first time.
His jaw drops as he stares at it in awe. “It’s like looking in a mirror.”
I smile as his fingers slide between mine and he grips my hand. I turn and look at the painting with him, admiring it now with the eye of a viewer instead of with the critical eye of a painter. It really is beautiful. I’m not sure if I’ll ever paint anything as lovely as this.
I know this painting will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s not only my masterpiece, but it was painted with love. And lust. My blossoming love for Cole is written in the detailed paint strokes and the blooming heat of lust that Cole drew out of me is visible in the sweeping rough strokes that I never dared to try before.
He’s done so much for me in our time together. He’s helped me come into my own body, awakening my sexuality and making me feel sensual and alive. And if that wasn’t enough, he’s helped me unlock a deeper level of my artistic expression. I’ve come into my own as an artist as well.
I adore this man. I just hope this is not the end of the fun.
“I love it,” he says, unable to take his eyes off the canvas. “You’re amazing. You’re the best painter who’s ever lived.”