“No, Mommy.” Jalen rolled his eyes. “He’s shooting up the bad guys.”
Yoshiro shook his head. “There’s no way Striker could’ve gotten any automatic weapon to an airport gate, post-911. It’s impossible.”
Jalen twisted his lips. “Maybe, he had it stored on the inside by an airport employee.”
“The author didn’t say it. He said Striker ran through the security gate, shoved a TSA agent to the side, and chased after the men. There’s no way that’s happening. And the gun he’s using would’ve been ineffective to get all thirty men.”
Jalen chuckled. “Why?”
“He never reloaded.”
I raised my hand again. “I’m still stuck on the fact that he’s shooting people in an airport, Jalen.”
“Mommy, it’s fiction. I told you it was about an assassin—”
“Who’s plowing down thirty people?”
“They’re bad guys.” Jalen shrugged.
Yoshiro smiled. “They are bad men.”
I frowned at both of them. “Really, guys? I don’t think this is appropriate.”
Jalen opened his mouth. “Wait. You can’t take Striker from me. It is my heart’s desire.”
I tried not to smile. “Your heart’s desire?”
“There’s no sex.” Jalen turned to Yoshiro. “What do you think?”
Yoshiro shrugged. “Besides the fact that none of these gun scenes are possible, it’s. . .pretty entertaining. After I finish this, I want to read book two.”
Jalen clapped his hands. “You’re a fan now.”
“I am.”
I shook my head at both of them.
“So. . .I’m just going to leave.” Jalen did a big show of creeping away. “Because I feel like it’s settled that I can read the series now.”
“We’ll still talk about it tonight.”
“There’s another book coming out next week, so maybe we can talk about it tonight and then do the pre-order.” Jalen rushed off, before I could respond.
I turned back to Yoshiro.
He’d been watching me. And that heated look returned. “The book isn’t that bad.”
“No?”
“It’s a great escape for Jalen. Striker is also a good guy. Even though he’s an assassin, he helps women. In the first act, he saved a class from being bombed.”
I widened my eyes.
“But overall, I think Jalen fell in love with Striker due to his past.”
“Hmmm.” I stepped in a little more. “What’s the hero’s background?”
“Striker’s father was abusive. He has flashbacks of his childhood. It’s one of the things he deals with. He has a soft spot for abused kids.”
“Oh my God.”
“He’s their hero.”
“You think I should let Jalen read them then?”
“Definitely.” He marked his page and closed the book. “I’ll keep reading the series because it really is entertaining. I’ll let you know, if it gets to topics that may make you uncomfortable. But in the end, a book is always a great thing. You write them. You should know.”
“I do.”
“What are you writing now?”
I tried to change the topic and walked over to the easel. Only it’s back was showing. “What are you painting?”
“You.”
Stunned, I walked over to the other side. My own face greeted me. “Damn.”
“I know it’s not that good—”
“It’s amazing.” I touched my chest. “That’s how you see me?”
“It doesn’t even do you justice. I’m probably going to start over.”
“Yoshiro, this is beautiful. I look. . .gorgeous and happy and. . .sexy.”
“That’s how I see you.”
He came close but didn’t touch me. However, barely three inches lay between us. All of me wanted to surrender to him. Every inch yearned to be touched and loved. But I was too scared, and it was too soon.
“I painted the kids too.” Yoshiro walked over to the back of the room and rounded the corner. When he came back, he brought two canvases with him.
The images blew me away. The first showed Salt and Pepa lapping at a giggling Poppy as she sat in the snow. I got the feeling that he’d really saw that happen and had been inspired to capture it. The other image displayed Kia and Jalen making two snowmen. Always competitive with each other, they both fiercely worked on theirs as if awaiting a judge’s decision.
“These are. . .brilliant. Captivating.” I covered my mouth.
“I was going to give them to you for Christmas, but since you came in. . .I got excited.”
“These are so good. I definitely want them.” I walked over and studied the paintings more. “I’m going to hang them up in the house.”
“Good.” He set them down and leaned them against the wall. “I’m glad you like them.”
“I love them.”
It was in that moment, where I realized that he stood so close to me. So close, if I extended my hand, I could touch his muscular chest. So close, if I rose to my toes, I could kiss him.
He licked his lips, and my body came alive.
Had he been having the same thoughts?
“You never answered my question.” He kept his voice low. “What are you writing about?”
“You,” I whispered.
Shock hit his face. “What?”
“I’m writing about you and me and. . .the kids. Mabel is in a scene too. Everything that’s gone on in these past weeks. I’ve just changed the names.”