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Chapter 18
Old Times
Gregor
It’s only been a little over a week, eight days to be exact, but this is the first time I’ve seen her smile since laying eyes on her in my apartment. She looks peaceful. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, my T-shirt hangs off one of her shoulders. Her eyes are bright but lost to the task before her.
Music is flowing through the suite. A soundtrack to each stroke of her brush. Her lips are parted and her tongue peeks out as she leans into the canvas.
I chuckle to myself. She’s totally engrossed in her task. I love this woman. Everything about her amazes me.
“You know, you can stop watching me so hard. I’m not going to float away. I have a million reasons to stay,” she says, with that smile still on her lips.
“I like watching you paint. You look happy,” I reply.
She turns her gaze toward me. Tilting her head to the side, she studies me. I watch her, trying to figure out what’s going on in her head.
“You don’t,” she says, her eyes narrow on me. “It’s in your eyes.”
“Are you painting me in your head, baby? You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll pose for you,” I say.
I watch as her eyes light up. She looks like I just offered her the world. I rise and start over to the side of the room she’s on. Leaning over her, I kiss her forehead.
Her smile falters a bit, but I refuse to let it sting. I have to focus on healing us, not on the pain. Without prompting, I lift my shirt over my head.
Pulling the string on my sweats, I let them fall to the floor. Chloe’s mouth falls open. My lips turn up.
I smile harder when she licks her lips before catching herself. Her brows dip as she frowns. I move back into position for her viewing. Standing in my boxer briefs with my legs wide, I clasp my hands behind my back.
“I’m all yours,” I croon.
She makes a little sound in the back of her throat and rolls her eyes. I watch as she mumbles to herself while getting fresh supplies set up.
“You’re not going to be able to hold that pose,” she grumbles at me.
I roll my shoulders back. “Try me,” I retort.
“Suit yourself,” she mutters.
It only takes her seconds to start sketching. I watch as her face takes on a look of complete concentration. Each time she glances at me, I don’t see lust. Instead, I see determination and thoughtfulness.
Time tickles by and my shoulders start to ache a bit, but I don’t give in. I stand, offering myself bare. My face is open to my emotions as I get lost in thoughts about my life, our life, all the things Chloe and I have been through.
“What made you return to the States?” Her voice breaks through my musing.
“I accomplished what I set out to do. Clay needed me and… I was homesick, I think. I’ve been around the world but there’s nothing like home. Home is truly where my heart is,” I say as I stare back at her.
She dips her head, turning back to the canvas. I love that shy smile, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. My own grin falls.
“I guess you never truly made up with your father?”
“My father is an odd man. He wouldn’t speak to us for almost three years. Yet, he’s always meddling in our lives now,” I reply.
I never got to tell her that my father was the one who pushed me to break things off and leave. After some thought, knowing Chloe, I don’t think that’s something she should know. I still need her to interact with my father when we return.
“He’s probably pretty pissed about not having a son as a governor,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Not so much. He wants the seat and control of it. He’ll still get it. My cousin, Wade, has been giving my father everything he’s dreamed of,” I scoff.
