I SIPPED MY CHAMPAGNE and studied the image hanging on the wall. Each of the photographs portrayed a certain degree of vulnerability, but there was hope in the woman’s expression. I knew because that woman was me.
Days after Ronan and Holliday’s wedding, Tinley contacted me and asked me to be a part of her annual charity fundraiser. How could I say no to something that was not only important to funding the arts but also her mother, Elizabeth’s legacy? I couldn’t which was why I staring at four pictures of myself shaded in green and blue hues.
Blue, the color of his eyes and the water he loved so much here in The Harbour. The swirls of aqua and azure blue, held a striking reminder of the Caribbean waters in Sapodilla Bay. The green was loudest—a canopy of palm leaves surrounding the outdoor shower where we shared a profoundly intimate moment.
Moving on, I stepped in front of the black and white photos anchored on the wall in a blocked cluster of four. Breathtaking. Gavin Lacourt knew his way around a woman’s body, photographically speaking—although the Frenchman was a known ladies’ man and the rumor mill was extremely complimentary of his bedroom skills.
“There you are!” Ella’s toned arms wrapped around my shoulders. “Fabulous, isn’t it—a total smash.”
“Ella, you look stunning,” I said, admiring the lace detailing of her cranberry colored gown.
Her hands drifted over her barely there bump. “Aren’t you sweet,” she replied, grasping my hand and then entwining our arms. We stared up at the photos. There we were, naked and on display for the whole world. Gavin had an idea for a collection of photographs featuring Ella, Holliday, and myself. A figure brushed past the two of us, slapping a red “sold” sticker next to Ella’s portrait.
“Well, that’s a blow to my ego,” I joked, taking a sip of champagne.
“My husband purchased it,” she remarked.
“How do you know?” I asked, shaking my head.
“I thought for sure they’d cover the photos up once they were purchased,” Alex said, from behind us.
“Told you he was the buyer.”
“You’re goddamn right I’m the buyer. I don’t need this portrait going in another man’s house where he can jerk off to it every night.”
Ella rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. “Babe, where are you going to hang a nude photo of me? In the guest house?”
“I haven’t decided, yet,” he answered, taking a long drink from the tumbler in his hands. “Maybe, I’ll hang it in my office, better yet our bedroom.”
A young woman breezed past us, marking Holliday’s portrait with the red sticker.
I threw up my hands. “What the hell?”
“Not too worry, love.” Ella nudged me. “I have a feeling the buyer of your portrait is standing right there.”
Following her gaze, my heart thumped out of sync. Grady stood before me in an ink black suit and matching tie. He looked undeniably handsome. Was it possible that he’d become more so, since we’d been apart? His blue eyes held that same smolder that I’d seen many times. I wondered how I’d lived without seeing his beautiful face these past weeks.
Ella squeezed my arm, as she turned on her heel. “Talk to him.”
Grady maneuvered his way towards me, sidestepping patrons with effortless precision. His eyes locked on mine, captivating me.
The overwhelming feeling took hold, tugging my need for him. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, winding its way to my heart pouring weeks’ worth of emotion into it—misery, frustration, desire, and excitement all brewing together making me dizzy.
“Harlow.”
“Grady.”
I stared at her for a long moment, studying every line and curve of her face. If this was the last time I’d ever see her, I needed to catalog it to memory. Harlow was breathtaking in a silver beaded, floor-length gown. When she arrived, I saw . . . felt her immediately. The lights from the gallery seemed to follow her everywhere. Her dress was like liquid metal sliding all around her as she walked from one display of art to the next. All those copper waves shiny and thick, cascaded down her back.
I reached for her, sliding my hand down her arm taking her hand in mine. Touching her, being this close, allowed me to breathe again. I took a slow, deep breath, feeling the air in my lungs. Abandoning all my planned speeches, I went straight for the three words that mattered most.
“I love you.” My shoulders sagged with relief as the words poured out of me. “I don’t know what the future holds, but the one thing that I do know and it’s with great certainty—is that I love you. There’s this huge important thing that you want, and I can’t promise it to you today or tomorrow or a hundred tomorrows from now,” I continued, my hands sliding into her hair. “I love you. That I can promise you. And I never lie, so you know my words are true.”
She gazed at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Okay,” she breathed.
“Okay,” I repeated, as my heart beat a bruising rhythm against my ribs.
“I love you, Grady,” she said, squeezing my hand. “I promise to listen to all your fun and historical facts. I can’t promise that I won’t roll my eyes from time to time. I promise to cheer you on in everything that you do. I promise to . . .” Her voice broke into a sob. “I can’t think of anything more at this moment, but I will, I promise.”
I laughed, swiping the tears from her cheeks. “It’s okay, we can revise and revisit anytime you want.”
Closing the gap between us, I tipped her mouth to mine. Desperate for her, I sealed my mouth over hers. I kissed her, sliding my tongue against hers. I claimed her mouth. Harlow was mine for as long as she would have me.
I needed her, needed to feel her skin. I needed her beneath me, hearing her say how much she loved me. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I do,” she whispered against my lips.
I set the palm of hand to the small of her back as we walked towards the door.
“Almost forgot, wait one second,” I said, as we passed by front table. After I made my donation, I turned Harlow back towards her photograph. Wrapping my arms around her waist from behind, we watched as they posted the sold sticker. “That’s going on the wall in my office,” I whispered, kissing just below ear.
“A wise choice, you made a very good investment, Mr. James.”
“Yes, I did,” I agreed, pulling her out the door.