I sat on the cobblestone patio with the uninterrupted view of the vineyards. I snatched a bottle of wine out of the cellar and enjoyed it alone, sitting in the sunlight as the breeze moved through my hair.

It kept getting worse. Now they were hitting Bones.

I knew this would be difficult, but damn, this was ridiculous.

Footsteps sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn around to see who it was. If they thought they were getting some of my wine, they were wrong. My hand tightened on the neck of the bottle, claiming it as my own poison.

My father pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.

He didn’t throw the punch, but I was still angry with him.

Uncle Cane came next, falling into the chair beside me.

I ignored them both, being ice-cold. I kept drinking, my sunglasses covering my swollen eyes. Bones could take any hit, but it still broke my heart to see my family treat him that way. He didn’t deserve it.

My father sighed. “Vanessa—”

“Don’t say you’re trying because you aren’t trying,” I snapped. “We moved here, and Griffin is willing to spend more time with you at the winery. He’s willing to do anything to make this work, even let you punch him in the face.” My gaze turned to Uncle Cane. “I’m disappointed in both of you. I know you’re stubborn and prideful, but your minds are so clouded by hatred that you’re continuing a war you could bring to an end. I love this man, and despite everything he’s doing to be accepted by you, you continue to disrespect him—continue to hurt me. I don’t want to hear an apology or an excuse.” I slammed the bottle down and rose out of my seat. “When we come here tomorrow, you will give him work to do around the winery, and I’ll work on my paintings. You will treat him like a human being, not a punching bag. Do you understand me?” I’d never told off my father or uncle like this before, but they had it coming. Both of my hands went to my hips as I stared at them, my sunglasses blocking my ruthless stare.

My father was quiet.

Uncle Cane stared straight ahead.

“Do you understand me?” I repeated.

My father clenched his jaw before he spoke. “Yes, I understand.”

I turned to Uncle Cane.

He stayed quiet.

“Uncle Cane,” I pressed.

He rubbed the scruff on the side of his face. “Got it.”

“And you will apologize to him.”

Uncle Cane looked at me, his eyes incredulous. “Over my dead body.”

“Cane,” I hissed. “What you did was wrong. He restrained himself for me, but you can’t do the same for me.”

“I’ll never apologize for what I did,” Uncle Cane barked. “But I’ll apologize to you…and make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s the best I can do.” He faced forward again before he grabbed the bottle and took a drink.

That was good enough for me. “Good.” I snatched the bottle out of his hand and walked away.

“Vanessa.” Uncle Cane turned around in his seat.

“What?” I stopped and turned around, but I didn’t walk back to the table.

“Did you tell him anything about us?” he asked. “About me and your aunt?”

I didn’t know there was anything to tell. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“He knows a lot about me,” Uncle Cane said. “I’m just wondering if he got that information from you.”

Bones told me my uncle was in the Skull Kings and had a criminal background. But he hadn’t said anything more than that. “No. He already knew about both of you when we met. I’ve never shared any personal information about your lives with him…I would never do that.” I turned around again and walked away. Even if they said something else to me, I wouldn’t turn back.

I’d had enough for the day.

His eyes had turned black by the time we got home.

“Let’s put some ice on it.” I opened the freezer in the kitchen and picked up a few ice cubes.

Bones yanked my hand out of the freezer and shut the door. “It doesn’t need ice.”

“Yes, it does. It looks terrible.” I placed the ice in a towel and wrapped the cloth around the cubes before I rose on my tiptoes and placed it against his eye. I stared at the stark discoloration, the bruising, and the swelling. He was the strongest man I’d ever known, but seeing him in any kind of pain broke my heart. I wanted to cry all over again.

He stared at me, his blue eyes not showing any relief at the touch of the ice cubes. He looked at me in pity, like I was the one in pain instead of him. “I don’t need it, baby.”

“I don’t want it to get worse.”

“It won’t.” He grabbed my wrist and gently pulled my hand away. “This is nothing but a scratch.”

“Half of your eye is swollen…”

“And in a few days, it’ll be back to normal.” He grabbed the cloth wrap from my hand and set it on the kitchen island. “If you really want to make me feel better, I have something else in mind.” His arm hugged the curve of my back, and he pulled me closer to him. His neck bent down to look at me, his hard jaw kissable.

I pressed my face against his chest. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. Let it go.” He rested his chin on my head. “You’re underestimating me.”

“That’s not it. I’m just so hurt my family would do that to you…”

“Cane is a lot more impulsive than Crow. His actions didn’t surprise me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said with a sigh. “It hurts me that they would do that…hurt the man I love.”

“They don’t see me that way, baby. They see me as my father’s son, not the man you love. I’m their enemy, and they can’t look past that. They’re soldiers, so their guards are always up. Don’t take it so hard. They’re just trying to protect their family. I don’t blame them for that.”

“Doesn’t give them the right to hit you.”

“I’m glad they did.”

I lifted my gaze to look at him. “Why?”

“Show them what I’m made of. Show them how much I can take. Show them that they can press my buttons all they want, and I still won’t cave. They may not like me, but they’ll respect me—eventually. In a man’s world, respect is everything.” His fingers moved underneath my chin, and he stared at my lips. “So let this go. You know what I’m made of. The only thing they could possibly do to hurt me is take you away from me…and we have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

My fingers wrapped around his wrists as I looked into his hard eyes. “I know. But that’s easier said than done…”

“We’ll take it one day at a time, starting tomorrow.” He swiped the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, his callused skin rough compared to mine. His eyes darkened as he looked at me, his thoughts no longer on my family. “You still want to make me feel better?”

“Always.”

He dropped his hand and walked into the living room where three large couches surrounded a coffee table. He dropped his jeans and boxers and pushed them to his ankles before he sat down, his large cock resting against his stomach. “On your knees.” He rested both arms over the back of the couch, taking up as much space as possible like an entitled king.

His arrogance never surprised me.

His eye was slightly swollen and discolored from the bruise, but somehow, the injury only made him look sexier. He could take any kind of pain without being affected by it. Stone-cold and rock-hard, he was as impenetrable as a cliff face.

He snapped his fingers then pointed to the ground at his feet.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by his crassness. “Bold, huh?”

“Yes. But I think I earned it.” He nodded to the ground again.

I didn’t mind getting on my knees for this man at all. I was happy to do it. But I would never take orders from anyone, not even him. Disobedience was in my blood, along with stubbornness.

His cock thickened the longer he waited, like he enjoyed this standoff. He got off to my temper, to my resilience. He’d been that way since the night he met me, wanting to get me to submit—and loving every time he failed.

His shirt was still on, covering his muscles and tattoos, but his corded neck and tight forearms hinted at everything underneath the cotton shirt. He was over two hundred pounds of solid muscle, probably two-fifty. He ate more protein in a single meal than I ate all day.

“Take off your shirt.”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smile before he cooperated. He pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the armrest. “Better?”

“Yes.” I sank to my knees, my hands sliding up his muscled thighs.

He took a deep breath as I kneeled, his eyes immediately narrowing as he observed me position myself in between his thighs. He watched my fingers move up to his hips, my nails digging into his skin.

He grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head, messing up my hair as he dragged it free of my body. The straps of my bra came next, and he pushed them down until my bra fell around my torso.

I reached my hands behind me, and I unclasped it so it could fall to the ground.

Bones stared at my tits, his eyes drinking them in like he didn’t see them every single day. His look was so manly, so territorial, that I never wanted another man to look at me like that. Nothing made me feel more beautiful than when he claimed me with just his gaze. He reached both hands out and palmed my breasts, rubbing his thumb across the nipples as they started to harden. “I love these tits.” He pinched my nipples slightly, making my breathing hitch. He grabbed the back of my neck and guided my lips down to his length.

I moved with him, aroused by the heat in his gaze. My lips pressed against his sac, and I kissed the textured skin, my tongue feeling the special grooves. His fingers rested under the fall of my hair, and he watched me, studying the way I kissed his balls. “Suck.”

I drew one into my mouth, ran my tongue everywhere, and then released it.

He moaned in approval.

I did the same to the other before I dragged my tongue along his base, right over the thick vein that lined his entire shaft. I moved to the tip and licked away the drop that formed on the crown.

My hand gripped his base and directed him to the ceiling so I could push my throat down his length. I moved as far as I could go before I felt the need to gag and then pulled back again. My throat was sore from the stretch, and my mouth produced more saliva to sheathe him everywhere.

Bones moaned again, telling me enjoyed it. “Nice and slow.”

He wanted this to last, to enjoy the sight as well as the sensation. Just like when I asked him to make love to me, he gave me exactly what I desired. He seemed turned on by the way I told him what I wanted without any shame. Now he did the same to me, telling me to suck his dick good without making him come.

I moved slowly, taking his cock over and over while massaging his balls at the same time. On my knees in front of the couch while my panties started to soak from my arousal, I knew I was in the exact position most women wanted to be. They wanted to be pleasing a man like him, who was handsome, strong, rich, and powerful.

But I was the only one who had the privilege.

“Fuck, you’re good at that.” He wrapped his hand around my hair, fisting it like the reins of a horse.

I dripped my saliva all down his length, getting him soaked and slick. My tongue tasted every drop of arousal he gave, and I could feel him getting thicker and thicker. I did my best to make it last, but it seemed like he was enjoying it too much. “Your dick tastes good.”

His eyes immediately darkened, and he gave a slight, involuntary tug on my hair. “Fuck, baby.”

I pulled him out of my mouth and locked eyes with him as I dragged my tongue from his base to his tip again.

He clenched his jaw, like he was pissed I was making this feel so good. He grabbed my neck and pulled my mouth away from his dick. Then he brought me farther in between his legs as he gripped himself by the base. “I’m gonna fuck those tits.”

I’d never done that before.

He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up the valley between my breasts, kissing me and laving me everywhere with his tongue. He breathed hard against me, gripping me around the rib cage with crushing force.

I closed my eyes and breathed, loving the way he grabbed on to me so ruthlessly.

He pulled away and then brought my palms to each side of my tits. Then he sandwiched his dick in between them, his wet cock sliding against my soaked flesh. Both wet from each other’s kisses, we fit perfectly together. My boobs were on the smaller size because I was barely a B cup, and his dick was enormous in comparison to my petiteness. I was slightly embarrassed, knowing this would work much better if I had a bigger rack.

But he didn’t seem to care how small my tits were. He cupped my hands and guided me up and down, making my tits squeeze his length as I moved. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, like he was overcome by how good it felt.

Now I didn’t feel so self-conscious anymore.

His hand moved to my neck, and he guided me at the pace he wanted, our slick bodies making sex sounds as they moved together. He pressed his big feet against the floor, moving his hips up to push his dick through my slick tits. He bent his head over the back of the couch for a second, releasing a masculine moan that shook the walls. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come all over those tits.” He looked at me again then grabbed himself by the shaft. He jerked himself hard, coming a second later across my wet flesh. He moaned loudly, the white drops creating a huge puddle across my tits and in the valley between my boobs.

Watching him come so deeply made me want to come just as hard. I felt my pussy tighten in arousal, wanting the thick cock pointed at me. His come was so heavy and so warm, and staring down the barrel made me wish that come was inside me as well as all over me.

He finished seconds later, his eyes full of satisfaction. He stared at his handiwork like he was proud of what he’d just accomplished, getting so much come all over me that it started to slide down right away. White, heavy, and scalding hot, it stuck to my skin like thick drops of glue. The only reason why it began to slide was because it was so heavy. “Gorgeous fucking tits.”

My hands snaked up his thighs, and I watched his dick slowly soften after his pleasure had erupted across his entire body. I licked my lips and stared at him with a plea in my eyes.

He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me toward him, getting me off my knees and onto the couch. He undid my jeans and pushed everything down, making me naked from the waist down. He pulled me into his lap and pressed his fingers between my legs, finding my throbbing clit and my soaked pussy. “You really liked sucking my dick.” His arm wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me against his chest, smearing his come across his body as well as mine. He kissed me hard on the mouth, crushing his lips against mine as his fingers moved through my slit and his thumb rubbed my clit.

“I love sucking your dick,” I said against his mouth.

He paused as he breathed, his fingers halting for a short moment so he could moan, and then he started to kiss me again. His thumb rubbed harder, and his fingers fucked me faster. “Jesus Christ, baby.”

My nails clawed at his shoulders, and I ground against his fingers, feeling the pleasure start almost immediately. I was so hard up that just a simple touch was enough to send me over the edge. I came around his fingers and thumb, moaning into his mouth and feeling his come in between us. I could smell his seed, smell the sex, and feel his love all at the same time. “Griffin…you’re the only man I ever want.” I didn’t think before I said the words out loud. Lost in the pleasure, I uttered the first thing that came to mind.

He watched me as I finished my orgasm, the arousal in his eyes replaced by a different emotion. His fingers kept working my pussy until I was finished, and then he stared at me like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “I know, baby. And you know you’re the only woman I’ll ever want.”

The mattress was comfortable and the master bedroom was nice, but it wasn’t the same as Bones’s place. It didn’t have the same coziness, but I loved being in Tuscany no matter what. With him beside me every night, it was good enough.

I was dead asleep when a nightmare came to me. Knuckles was there, dragging me away from my family. He had Sapphire too, who was swollen with her pregnancy. She was in tears, and he had a gun pointed right at my temple.

My father was on his knees as a man held a rifle to his head. The horror on his face was because of what he was witnessing, not the gun at his head. The man pulled the trigger, and then my father’s body fell to the ground.

“God!” I jolted upright in bed, gripping the sheets and tipping over as I lost my balance. Hot tears fell down my face, and I sobbed as the images remained glued in my vision. I tried to suck the air into my lungs, but there was never enough oxygen. “Oh my god…” My hand moved to my chest, and I felt my racing heartbeat.

Bones sat up and pulled me against him. “Just a dream, baby. A dream.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my shoulder and then my neck. “It’s alright.”

“I’m scared…” I stared into the darkness, looking out the window to the fields that I couldn’t see. There were stars in the sky because it was a clear night. I couldn’t see anything else but the heavens above. We were alone in the middle of nowhere. No one was around.

“Hey.” He forced me to my back so he could look down at me. “I’m here. You know what that means?”

I stared at him, my chest still rising and fall sporadically. The back of my neck was beaded with sweat, and it absorbed into the pillow. I could see his muscular outline and the hardness of his jaw. His blue gaze pierced me like blades.

“It means nothing will ever happen to you. Don’t be scared.”

Like his words were a lifeboat and I was about to drown, I moved into him and held on. I found comfort in his muscular chest, in the thickness of his arms. I moved my face into his neck and focused on the steady pulse as it vibrated under his skin.

He cradled me beside him, hiking my leg over his hip.

“I’d never let anything happen to you, baby. So when the nightmares come, tell them to leave. They have no power over you.” He rested his face against the pillow beside mine, confident gaze chasing the rest of my pain away. “I’m the only one who has any power over you.”

My hand moved up his chest until it rested over his heartbeat. Steady and slow, it thudded with power. “I dreamt…that Knuckles took me and Sapphire. And…one of his men shot my father.” I closed my eyes, reliving that painful moment that hurt me. I took a deep breath, reminding myself it wasn’t real, and I opened my eyes again.

He stared at me with the same expression, his eyes unblinking. “I would never let anything happen to him either.”

My eyes moved to his face, surprise in my heart. “You just said you wouldn’t hurt him…”

“I know what I said. But I’d protect him as much as I would protect you—because I know what he means to you. That goes for the rest of your family too.” His hand moved to my cheek, and his fingers slid through my hair. “You’re everything to me, baby. And I never want my baby to be scared or sad. Your pain…” He rested his palm over my heart. “Is my pain.”

Bones pulled up to the winery in his truck.

I sat in the passenger seat, feeling resentful toward my family before I even opened the door. My father was blinded by hate, and so was everyone else. If only they understood how much this man loved me, they would be able to let go of the past and move on.

But the Barsettis were so damn stubborn that didn’t seem possible.

Bones looked at me when I didn’t hop out right away.

I was almost tempted to ask him to drive back to the house.

He killed the engine. “One day at a time.” Like he could read my mind, he addressed the sadness in my eyes.

“Yeah…”

Bones went to work, working in the warehouse where the bottles were placed in the boxes then dollied to the storage facility before they were placed on the truck for delivery. This man was undeniably rich, and now he was working for free—for someone else.

I went into the tasting room and hung up my paintings on the walls. The nails were already there from my previous works, so these were easy to hang. I arranged them based on color, grouping similar images together so the presentation was more aesthetic.

Mom came to my side. “They’re lovely.”

“Thanks.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“I don’t know…I don’t really have one.” My favorite painting I’d ever made was sitting in my apartment. Nothing else I ever painted compared to that work, probably because I’d never felt so emotional in all my life.

“Not a single one?” she asked, her arms across her chest.

“Well, my absolute favorite isn’t on this wall…”

Mom nodded in understanding, her eyes still looking over the fifteen different pieces I’d put on display. “I wonder how long it’ll take for you to sell them all. A week? The weather is nice, so we’ll have a lot of business.”

“A week seems a little unrealistic.”

“You don’t know how much people love these paintings. I didn’t have to pitch them at all. Everyone enjoys their wine and cheese and gazes at them. They seem to feel something, something so strong they can’t leave without that picture. You’ll see.” She turned back to the bar. “You want to help me out today?”

“Sure.” Bones would be working all day, so I should give myself something to do. “Hand out wine all day and talk about it? Sounds like a walk in the park.”

Mom smiled. “Just don’t drink all of it.”

“Well…we might have a problem there.”

We’d just finished setting everything up when my father walked inside, wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. His muscular arms and shoulders stretched the fabric, and it was so nice to see him stand tall, looking healthy and unafraid. It was the perfect antidote to my nightmare, to see him alive and well. Overcome with emotion, I came around the bar and hugged him. I held on, my arms squeezing his torso as my face rested against his chest.

My father looked down at me, hesitating before he returned the embrace. “Everything alright, tesoro?”

I nodded. “I had a nightmare last night…”

He patted my back and gave me all the time I needed. “Your mother used to have bad nightmares too. It’ll pass.”

“I know…it’s just nice to see you.” I turned away, hiding my face so he wouldn’t see the emotion in my eyes. I headed back to the bar and pulled out the bottles we would be serving that afternoon.

My father kept looking at me.

My mother watched him. “So, Griffin is working in the warehouse today?”

Father stopped staring when my mother addressed him. “Yeah. Hector called in sick anyway, so that worked out.”

“Yeah, it did,” Mom said noncommittally. “Vanessa and I will do the tastings together. Her paintings are on display, and I’m sure people will be mesmerized by them, as usual.”

Father turned around and admired the paintings he hadn’t noticed before. He walked up to them, examining with the same diligence Bones gave when he looked at my creations. Father moved his hands into his pockets and stared at them, devoting a lengthy time to his stare when he had a business to run.

I knew I shouldn’t care what anyone thought of my artwork, but my family’s opinion mattered to me. Bones’s opinion mattered to me too. Seeing my father study my work so closely filled my heart with a special kind of warmth.

He pointed to the one on the top left. “That’s my favorite of this bunch.” It was a painting of the city of Florence from the edge of the countryside. Erect and tall in comparison to the low hills, the city stood tall like a skyscraper. “I’ve seen this very view all my life, driving to town or the market…” He turned back around. “But I like them all.”

“Thanks, Father.” I smiled.

Father came back to Mama then kissed her on the cheek. “Free for lunch?”

“I’m always free for lunch. You’re the one who usually isn’t.”

“Well, I’d like to set some time aside for you today.”

She smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

He kissed her on the cheek again before he walked out.

I’d always noticed my parents’ affection since I was young. It was the kind of relationship I wanted to have with my husband someday. Little did they know, it was the exact relationship I had with the man I loved—right at that very moment.

There were a lot of guests that afternoon, all visiting from Florence to try some of the famous Barsetti wine. They ordered cheese to pair with the different varietals, and I enjoyed doing something with my time that wasn’t so isolating. When I painted, I rarely interacted with anyone else. I spent all afternoon in silence, creating pieces based on thoughts, memories, and feelings. Most artists were solitary people, and I guessed I was that way too.

But I enjoyed mingling with the tourists and locals who stopped by.

And to my surprise, people really did love my paintings.

Couples talked about their favorites, people asked about the prices, and a few even bought one before they left.

Before lunchtime arrived, I’d made over ten thousand euros.

I couldn’t believe it.

I walked over to a table with two young gentlemen who seemed to be brothers, based on the way they were causally insulting each other. I poured the wine and noticed they’d been drinking quicker than anyone else in the group. “So, which is your favorite?”

“The 2008 was great,” the one on the right said.

“2014 was better.” The one on the left was dressed in a white t-shirt with a gray blazer. He had light skin and an American accent, so it didn’t seem like he was a local. Maybe they were visiting with family. He had an indifferent demeanor, like nothing was good enough for him. “We were just at the Burtolli Vineyards. Now that’s excellent wine.”

I couldn’t care less what this jerk thought, but I didn’t appreciate the casual way he insulted the hard work of my family. “Then maybe you should go back.” I poured the wine a little too fast and purposely spilled it on the sleeve of his jacket.

“Hey.” He dotted the stain away with a napkin. “Watch what you’re doing.”

“I was.” I smiled then walked off, helping another table that actually had some manners. I spent the next twenty minutes mingling and asking where everyone was from. My mom did a great job doing the tastings because she was from America, like most of the tourists. So she had visited the places where they were from and gave people a sense of familiarity.

As the customers started to taper off for lunch, Mom left early to join my father for their date. I stayed behind and finished off the final bottles and cleaned the glasses. The two jerks from earlier were still there, and now they were staring at my paintings.

I ignored them, waiting until they finally left so I could never think about them again. I wiped off all the tables with a rag and then rinsed the glasses people had drunk from before placing them in the dishwasher. We bought all our cheeses from the local village, so everything was fresh and authentic.

“Three thousand euros?” the man in the gray blazer asked. “This looks terrible. Did a five-year-old make this?” His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at the paintings like they were trash.

I refused to let his opinion bother me. He was just some entitled asshole.

“Yeah,” his brother agreed. “Amateur and pathetic. They had much better artwork in Milan. You know, by real artists.”

The man in the gray blazer squinted at my name in the corner. “Vanessa Barsetti…no wonder it sucks. It sucks just like their wine.” He seemed to say it loudly on purpose—for my benefit. After they thoroughly destroyed my day, they walked out and thankfully left.

Now I was finally alone…

His last words lingering in my mind.

I shouldn’t let it bother me, let it tear me down. He was just one asshole, and everyone else loved my work. I wouldn’t have sold four paintings that afternoon if I didn’t have any talent.

I kept trying to convince myself his words didn’t matter, but the fact that I had to try to convince myself at all told me his words did bother me.

Made me doubt myself.

Hurt me.

I stood at the counter with my eyes averted, making an effort to keep my breathing regular. I felt the emotion creep up on me, felt it filter through my veins. My eyes started to well up, and I did my best to keep them back. My strength waned the longer I had to fight against my reaction, because it just made me feel weaker.

I felt pathetic for letting it bother me.

Heavy footsteps sounded against the cobblestone floor. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

I looked up to see the stunning blue eyes that contained my whole world. Strong and powerful, he invigorated me with strength just by looking at me. The t-shirt he wore had been soaked with sweat around his neck and armpits because he’d been working hard in the warehouse. A line of sweat covered his brow. When he was hot and sweaty, he looked even sexier than usual.

I came around the bar and moved into his chest, feeling my lifeline right under my fingertips. He was my strength as well as my weakness. He was my rock, the crutch I leaned on when I needed it most.

His hand moved to the back of my neck, and he stared down at me, concern in his eyes.

I thought I heard footsteps again, and I feared that asshole was coming back to insult me once more. But then I realized it didn’t matter if he were…because Bones would kill him. And I wouldn’t stop it from happening.

“Baby, what is it?” His fingertips moved under my jaw, and he lifted my gaze.

“It’s stupid…”

His eyes narrowed. “Nothing you say is stupid. Tell me.”

“Well…there was this guy who came in today. He was an ass, said our wine wasn’t very good. Then he stared at my paintings and said…not very nice things. Said I sucked…like my family’s wine. I know I shouldn’t let it bother me because his opinion doesn’t matter…but it hurt.”

His eyes softened. Instead of telling me to buck up like he normally would, he gave me sympathy. His fingertips moved across my cheek. “Your paintings represent your soul. If anyone insults them, it’s like insulting your feelings, emotions, beliefs…it’s not stupid that it hurt you.”

I turned my face into his palm, treasuring the warmth and strength.

“But he’s wrong, baby. He doesn’t possess your creativity, your beauty. And if it doesn’t exist inside him, then he can’t spot it when he sees it. His opinion is invalid. Your artwork speaks to people. I don’t know shit about art, but it’s made me feel so many things. You painted me, all of me, down to my very soul. How many people could do that?”

I watched his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his pretty eyes.

“You have a gift, baby. Soon, you’re going to have your own gallery. And one day, people are going to be auctioning off your work for millions. When you’re dead and gone, generations into the past, people will treasure your work because it captured the beauty of your life. It’ll make you immortal.” He cupped both of my cheeks, turning my face up a little more to look at me. “Don’t listen to him.”

I gave a slight nod, feeling better.

He wiped away my tears with the pads of his thumbs. “No man deserves your tears—not even me.”

My hands gripped his wrists, feeling the strength transfer from him to me. “Thank you…”

He moved his lips to my forehead and gave me a long kiss, his warm mouth resting there for a while. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. You shine like the sun. Don’t ever let anyone take away your light. A real man should never tear down a woman, but lift her up.”

“That’s what you do for me.”

He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me into the air, pulling me against his chest so we were face-to-face. “Yes, I do.”

My arms wrapped around his neck, and I pressed my forehead to his as my legs wrapped around his waist. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes as he held me, our heads pressed together. “I love you too, baby.” He held me that way for a while, letting me cling to him for comfort. Minutes passed before he returned me to the ground. “I should get back to work. I’ve got a lot of stuff to do.”

“They’re really putting you to work, huh?”

“Yep. Who doesn’t love free labor?”

I smiled at him. “Thanks for doing this…I know you have a million other things you should be doing.”

“Yes.” He rested his fingers against my chin and lifted my gaze. “But this is the only thing I want to be doing.” He gave me a soft kiss on the lips before he turned away. He held his wide shoulders with perfect grace as he walked away, his strong physique possessing a strong posture.

I watched him go until he turned the corner.

Then I heard the sound of footsteps again. I turned toward the door to see who it was. I caught a glimpse of my father’s long-sleeved black shirt before it disappeared in the crack of the partially open door. I wondered if he’d been watching that entire exchange. My father wouldn’t eavesdrop on me because he respected me too much.

But when it came to Bones, everything was different.