I wake alone in our bed, nothing new. Trick held me last night. It wasn’t sexual, it was just love. We didn’t say much and that was the apology I needed. I asked for time and he gave it to me. Now I feel alone, and the threads that mended my heart last night threaten to break at the thought of him back in that room drawing her.

I close my eyes and draw in a shaky breath.

“My wife’s favorite.”

Opening my eyes, Trick walks through the door with eggs and jellied toast. A genuine, I-love-this-man grin steals my face and it feels like forever since it’s been there. Sitting up, I take the plate from him.

Swiping my finger through the jelly running off the edge of the toast, I wink at him. “You’re my favorite.” I lick the jelly off.

He sits in bed next to me, both of us with our backs against the headboard. “So we’re still friends?” He takes a bite of his toast.

“No. We’re BFFs and breakfast soul mates.”

He nods with a grin, and instead of the usual head shake and eye roll that accompanies my acronyms, his body relaxes. I think he needs my words as much as I needed him to bring me this breakfast in bed instead of being in the other room drawing.

“I love the way you hum when you eat your eggs and jellied toast.”

I furrow my brow. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckles. “That fact that you don’t even know you do it makes me love it that much more.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t hum when I eat.” Taking a bite, the strangest thing happens. I hum. Holy crap! I hum when I eat. How have I never noticed?

Trick laughs. “My God, I love you.”

I grin, but as quickly as the moment happened it ends and our smiles fade. It’s the memory of yesterday haunting today. Our laughter only covers the pain that’s still there. After a few minutes of silence, Trick leaves the room. I continue eating my breakfast trying not to hum. My phone chimes.

I suck in a shaky breath as my eyes fill with tears.

I wipe a few stray tears for him, for the demons that must haunt him. And then I shed a few more for the guilt I feel. He needed me to do what I do best—show compassion, Instead … I gut him.

He stops in the doorway. I wipe my cheeks and set my plate aside. “Tell me about her.”

His teeth dig into his bottom lip. “I don’t know how I drew her … I just did. She’s so familiar, yet I don’t remember her.”

I nod and take a deep swallow. “Why did you draw her naked?” I whisper. The words hurt.

His face pulls tight into a pained expression. “It’s just the vision I had. I couldn’t put clothes on her … she wasn’t wearing any.” His eyes meet mine. “I know how painful this must be for you. It means I was with her … like that.”

I laugh, eyes still dripping a few tears. “It’s so stupid. I’m jealous of a drawing.” Shaking my head, I continue to laugh at the absurdity of my jealousy. “She had you when I wanted you. She took away my time with you. Hell, I was jealous of myself when I thought you were spending all that time drawing me.”

Trick moves to the bed and pulls me on his lap so I’m straddling his legs. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to draw you.” He rubs his nose against mine, sliding his hands up the back of my satin nightgown. “I’ll always want you.” He kisses my lips with reverence. “I want you now.” His hands slide around until his thumbs brush over my nipples. “Can I have my wife … now?”

My heavy eyelids close as I nod.

Two days later my BFF texts me. He says he’s too afraid to ask his wife for an hour to finish his drawing, but if she agrees to it he promises to take it into town and sell it. Less than an hour later my BFF texts me, thanking me for putting in a good word with his wife. He’s finished and ready to take it into town.

“What price do you want to put on it?” The guy at the gallery asks after he tears his eyes away from the drawing.

I see Trick getting ready to put a ridiculously low price on it.

“How about you display it for a week and take bids on it. Then sell it to the highest bidder when the week is up.”

The guy looks back down at the drawing, shaking his head. “You really drew this?”

Trick chuckles. “Yes.” He points to the corner. “And that’s my signature.”

The guy nods once.

“Five hundred, tops,” Trick says as we get in the car.

I fasten my seatbelt. “Five grand, minimum.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Shall we make it interesting?”

I slide my sunglasses down my nose, looking at him over the frames. “What did you have in mind?”

“I win, you watch the video with me … naked.”

“The security video?” My eyes go wide.

He nods with a devilish grin.

I stare, actually glare, at him then slide my glasses back up my nose. “Fine. But when I win you’re going to erase the footage in front of me … naked.”

Trick lets out a roaring laugh. “Deal, sexy.”

Normalcy … we fall into it again even though we both know with Trick’s memory and his past lurking at every turn, our lives could change without warning. I’ve resumed my tutoring with Declan, but it’s now at our place—a compromise. Trick has started a new drawing and while he still doesn’t like to show his work until he’s done, he’s agreed to leave the door to the spare bedroom open and work on it no more than forty hours a week, equivalent to a normal job.

“The gallery just called,” I say with a soft voice as Trick concentrates on his drawing that’s facing away from me.

He glances up. “Oh yeah?”

I nod.

“And?

“I told him I didn’t want him to tell me what it went for so we can find out together when we go pick up your payment.”

He covers his drawing and rubs his palms together with greedy friction. “I should get the video on standby.”

“No, you should get ready to delete it.”

“We’ll see. Come.”

We take his bike to the gallery. Of course I’m hoping I win, not just because I want that embarrassing video of me deleted, but also because I want to prove to him that his talent is rare and worth so much more than he thinks.

“My cock’s hard just thinking about watching that video with you.” He adjusts himself as we get off the bike.

I rub my fingers along my shirt over my breasts. “My nipples are getting hard just thinking about you pressing that delete button.”

He smacks my backside. “Get in there.”

The gallery owner smiles as we walk in the door. “Bueno días!”

“Hi, we left a sketch—”

“Si, I know, I know …” he cuts me off. “I feel terrible. I really wish you would have given me longer than a week. I just know I could have gotten so much more.”

Trick bends down by my ear. “I can just see your hand slowly slipping beneath your underwear,” he whispers.

I jerk my elbow back into his stomach and smile at the owner. “It’s fine. Next time we’ll give you longer. So what did you get off this one?”

He wrinkles his nose. “Sorry, only thirty.”

I try not to deflate completely right here in front of him, but I’m just so disappointed and shocked. I assumed with Todos Santos being an artist’s haven that people around here would have a greater appreciation for something as artistically brilliant as Trick’s work.

“Now, I usually take fifty percent commission, but since I feel bad about not getting more for you, I’m only keeping forty percent this time.” He hands us an envelope.

It’s thick. I open it and count the money. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, señorita. I needed more time.”

“There’s eighteen thousand dollars in here!”

“Si.”

Trick grabs the envelope from me and counts the money.

“You sold his drawing for thirty thousand dollars?”

“Si. That’s what I said.” He looks at me with confusion etched along his forehead.

I turn and look up at Trick, wearing the smuggest grin my face has ever had. “He sold your drawing for Thirty. Thousand. Dollars!”

Trick looks equal parts confused and shocked, his forehead wrinkled, jaw slack, and nothing to say.

I turn back around. “Must have been a pretty wealthy person who came in. What are the chances?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t sell it here. I sold it online. That’s where most everything sells. It shipped out this morning.

“Lucky me … I mean, lucky us.” I smile. “Thank you so much. Have a nice day.” I turn and practically have to push Trick out of the gallery. He still hasn’t said one word.

“My hero.” I wrap my arm around him as we walk to the car. “I do believe you just paid our rent, utilities, grocery, and gas bills for several months or more.”

He slips on his helmet still in a daze, leaving me to put mine on by myself this time. “I can’t believe it,” he says with an edge of sorrow or disappointment to his words.

“How can you say that? You didn’t think you’d get more than five hundred dollars for it.”

He shakes his head, throwing his leg over the bike. “I’m not talking about the money. I can’t believe I have to erase the video.”

“Oh my God!” I get on behind him and dig my fingers into his sides until he jumps, bringing his elbows in to stop me.

“Do it.” I plant my hands on my hips looking over Trick’s naked shoulder … actually his naked body.

“This can’t be undone. Are you sure you don’t want to think about—”

“Do it!”

He grimaces, pressing his finger to the delete key, like he’s about to end all life on Earth.

And … it’s gone!

“Happy now?” He grumbles, closing his laptop.

“Yes.”

He turns, holding his arms out to the side, palms up. “So why did I have to be naked for this? My request made sense, but this doesn’t. The least you could have done was suck my cock to ease the pain of my loss.”

“Yeah, the way you eased my embarrassment by watching the video in the first place, and the way you’ve been talking about it ever since.”

He moves his hand to his cock and starts stroking himself.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You like?”

I can’t look and yet I can’t not look … so of course I’m looking. “Stop it!”

His length grows in his hand with each stroke. “Feel free to touch yourself too.”

“Stop it!” My words are stern, but damn I cannot stop staring at him.

“At what point when you used to watch me did you decide you wanted to slip your hand inside your panties?”

“Put your clothes back on.” I force myself to turn my back to him.

“I will when I finish. Touch yourself, sexy.”

I turn back around. A cocky smile slides up his face as he strokes himself with more intensity. My lips part as I watch him; then my tongue circles over them.

“Take off your clothes …” he grits between his heavy breaths.

With slow seduction, I remove my clothes. It feels like his eyes are licking my flesh.

“Do you … want … to touch … yourself?” He pants out each word.

“Yes,” I breathe, sliding my hand down my belly, then turning, I flash up the stairs.

“Darby!” Trick yells with a grinding displeasure to his voice.

I slam the door to our room and lock it. Resting my back against it, I widen my stance and … touch myself. “Oh … God …”

“Darby!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The door vibrating from his fists pounding on it only intensifies my pleasure.

“Fuck!” He yells with a final punch. “Are you touching yourself?”

My fingers speed up, easily sliding along my wet sex, thanks to Trick. “Feels … so … good …”

“Stop!”

“I’m … close … oh God … right there … yes … Yes … YES!” I melt down the door as my orgasm sucks the life right out of me.

He growls a few expletives. “I want a divorce.” Then I hear his grumbling fade as he stomps down the stairs.

As far as self-induced orgasms go, that one was the best. He had me so worked up when he was stroking himself; then that voice, that damn sexy voice does it to me every time. It was torturous for me too. I wanted his body pressed to mine, filling me, more than almost anything, except how much I wanted to show him that I won the bet and he was not going to steal my victory.