As tempting as it was, I knew the truth would hurt him more. Just like when he’d witnessed the feelings between Sam and me were something that wasn’t faked.
“I’ve decided to rotate some of the pieces in the space,” I told him, knowing it was my prerogative, as the curator, to do so. “Plus, with all the positive feedback and attention Nico has received on his staged series from Bisbee, I think it deserves to be featured at the front.”
Carlos sputtered, flinging disbelief and anger and tiny spittles into the surrounding air.
“I can’t believe this,” he spat. “You’re just a bitter bitch because I cheated on you with Kendall.”
My jaw tightened but my smile held firm. Even though that moment still hurt, it was only with the dull ache of a childhood injury that I now saw as a foolish decision on my part—to get involved with Carlos in the first place.
“I’m not bitter at all. Just practical. And I see what’s working… and what’s not.” I let the emphasis hang heavy on that last part.
“How dare—”
“Carlos, man, she’s telling you your stuff isn’t working,” Sam interjected quietly, a smile toying with his lips. “Take the hint and walk away before you embarrass yourself.”
I squeezed Sam’s hand, loving him, but encouraging him to not poke the very angry, very infantile bear.
“How. Dare. You.” My quickly-becoming-insane ex pointed a finger at the man I loved. “First, you assault me. And now, you think you can tell me what to do?” He scoffed. “The only reason this exhibit is a success is because of me—because of my name.”
I watched in horror as Carlos’ finger move toward Sam’s chest in slow motion like it was about to hit the detonate button. And it was. But I didn’t think Carlos, in his egotistical tantrum, realized.
“You know what, you don’t want to give my work the respect it deserves because I dumped you”—I snorted because that was a lie—“then, I’ll take it and leave,” he told me, his eyes narrowing hatefully. “As for you”—he looked back to Sam and shoved his finger into his chest, the knuckles bowing against the hard wall of muscle—“you can have my leftovers, you fucking redskin—”
His slur turned into a high-pitched squeal when I smacked him before Sam had the chance to react, the force sending him backward, tumbling into Mee-Maw who was talking to Nico and—not so discreetly—listening to our conversation with Carlos. Thankfully for her, Nico was able to grab ahold of her to keep her steady, but not before her arms shot out, tossing the bowl of chili she was holding, all over Carlos and his unfortunate painting.
The next few minutes descended into chaos—but mostly for Carlos. His increasingly abrasive attitude toward everyone and everything meant that Kendall was the only one interested in helping him clean up and collect his things. I brought towels over for them and boxes for Carlos to use for his things, but that was the extent of my curating duties.
Sam wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me steady while Carlos and Kendall argued their way out of the gallery.
“And to think you wanted a pretend boyfriend because of that guy,” he murmured.
I turned to him, admitting in all honesty. “I don’t think I ever wanted a pretend boyfriend. I think I only ever wanted you.” I blinked up, still trying to sort through all the emotions I’d had coming back to Bisbee. “I think I wanted to see you… and for you to see what we could’ve had.”
“What we do have,” he corrected, dropping a kiss to my forehead.
Sam drew back, never straying far from my orbit, when Mee-Maw approached.
“Why do I have a feeling you were holding that chili and waiting for something to happen?” I muttered to my grandmother, her gleeful grin splattered across her face almost as obstructively as the chili had been over the painting.
“I’ve always told you, Talia, my famous chili fixes everything,” she chided lightly with a devious wink, sauntering over to the trash and dumping the empty bowl into it.
“I knew it,” I said under my breath to Sam.
He laughed. “You’re lucky she didn’t take all his paintings and toss them into the pit.” Another option she’d suggested with all seriousness.
A short hour later, people were pouring in for the last night of the exhibit, and I hadn’t been lying when I’d said they were all coming to see Nico’s work.
All I heard from the visitors as I passed through the small, and now cramped, space, was how much they loved Nico’s Bisbee adaptation of the stages of love. In truth, I’d only seen the first two panels. The last two he’d finished after the group trip to the Lavender Pit and I was curious to see how he finished it.
“Nico’s paintings seem to be a hit.” I tilted my head up and told Sam, swaying toward his warmth that drew me in like a magnet.
“I’ve heard.”
He kissed me tenderly. Another kind of kiss I’d always dreamed of—the kind of kiss he’d given me that first time. I remembered that night in my bed, I’d been expecting something deep and sloppy like my friends had told me about. Instead, Sam kissed me like this—firm, but possessive. Hot like a brand, it seared on my skin a promise of more, a promise of a raging flame kind of kiss later once we were away from all these people.
“It’s them.”
I blinked and turned my head at the words, but whoever had said them, disappeared in the sea of faces.
“Let’s go.” Linking my hand with his, I wove us to the front of the crowd congregated around Nico’s center spot.
And when I got there, I stopped in my tracks. The electrical hum of energy and conversation dulled compared to the vibrant sparks of recognition as I stared at the paintings, each panel further confirmation of what was an undeniable truth.
Nico had painted his progress of love about Sam and me.
In ‘The Meeting’ I saw the moment Sam had shown up to the gallery that first afternoon, accepting my insane idea; the moment I should’ve known that Sam Deschenes was the man he’d always been—the kind I’d fall easily in love with.
In ‘The Pursuit’ our silhouetted kiss was framed by the sparse bright lights inside the mine.
But those I’d already seen and I hadn’t put two and two together. The next panel, ‘The Lover Crowned’, was at the ghost tour. I was in Sam’s arms with the sleepy town in the distance behind us; he’d won me that night.
And last, ‘Love Triumphant’ was the brightest canvas of them all, the background the most beautiful blend of the warm colors of the copper Lavender Pit set against the vibrant, Bisbee-like blue of the sky, and standing in the center, our features unmistakable, were Sam and me, my arms wrapped around his neck as he held me.
“Nico…”
The artist approached me, sheepishly but lacking a guilty conscience. “I hope you don’t mind, Tally.”
“Mind…” It wasn’t the first time I’d been used as some kind of inspiration for the artists in this group, though I much preferred Nico’s rendition of my emotions over Carlos’.
Taking the fade of my voice as an invitation for further explanation, he went on, “I wasn’t planning on it. In fact, I’d started the first canvas the day I got here. I’d planned on doing iconic scenes from the town and sights, but when we came here that first afternoon, and Handsome Sam showed up. Holy smokes.” He paused here to fan himself. “I was struck by the two of you together. Like an active volcano that was going to erupt.”
“So, you felt your life was threatened?” I drawled lightly, letting a smile sneak onto my face.
“Oh, honey. I was more than willing to put myself in harm’s way to capture something striking like that… something that doesn’t happen too often in life.”
I flushed.
He put his hand up, pretending to tell me a secret though he spoke in a normal tone. “Oh please, I was the one who told Mee-Maw to bring the chili.”
I threw back my head and laughed. Full-bodied. Full-hearted.
Nico cleared his throat, holding up a finger and apologizing to the wait
ing crowd so he could say one last thing to me.
“I’m leaving it here,” he declared.
“Nico—”
His silencing finger appeared in front of my face. “Don’t argue, Tally. It belongs here. With you.”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t explicitly told the group I wouldn’t be heading back to New York with them this week, though I was sure most had a pretty good idea that was the case.
“Nico…” I bit into the side of my cheek, feeling the tears congregate in the corners of my eyes.
Sam’s fingers circled at my side just until Nico pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “You deserve this, Tally.”
I nodded against his shoulder. “New York was never my dream,” I confessed. “This is all I’ve been waiting for.”
“You’re too good for New York,” he asserted, pulling back and using his bright orange scarf to dab his eyes. “And I’d wait, too, if I thought I’d catch Handsome Sam’s eye.” He winked at my very real, very mine, boyfriend.
Sam chuckled and dipped his chin.
Nico turned back to his waiting audience, leaving Sam and me to our relative cocoon of peace, though several sets of eyes drifted from Nico’s work to us, picking up the resemblance without being told.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Tally,” Sam murmured, reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ears before pulling me into his arms.
“It wasn’t that long,” I murmured, reaching up on my tiptoes and angling for a kiss.
“No?” His eyebrow arched and I felt it where his forehead rested on mine.
“I used to wait months for you to come back for the summer. Months that passed in a blink.” I told him, my voice softening into an intimate whisper, my breath wafting against his lips. “Then, I waited years to come back here… to find you again. The years now seem like a blur because I’ve realized I’d wait my whole life for you, Sam.”
“Your whole life?” Sam uttered behind me, a slight smile making his face shine.
“My whole life.” I sighed as his lips gently touched to mine. “But I’m glad we didn’t take that long.”
He laughed against my mouth, his arms tightening around me and I felt my feet elevating off the floor. “Me, too.”
I slid my tongue along the seam of his lips, instantly feeling the reaction of his body as it hardened against me. “Take me home,” I begged.
He drew back to look at me, confirming that I wanted to leave the last night of the exhibit early. I moistened my lips and gently arched my hips against his growing thickness.
“You’re trouble,” he growled.
“But I’m your trouble,” I promised him as he carried me out of the gallery, my legs locking around his waist as soon as we cleared the door.
“You and me,” I breathed, the Bisbee air crackling with the beautiful and bizarre kind of heat and magic only it could have.
His teeth closed on my lip, tugging and sucking the tender flesh into his mouth before swearing, “Against the world.”
One Year Later
“Sam!” I laughed, jogging to keep pace as he tugged my hand with him. “We have to get to the gallery!”
He laughed but didn’t acknowledge me.
We were supposed to meet Lorelei in forty minutes to get the keys even though, as of eight a.m. this morning, I’d signed the papers and was officially the new owner of the Belleza Gallery.
After the exhibit last year, I hadn’t gone back to New York. Sam had all my things shipped back, and when Steph came to visit, she brought the last of my belongings with her. She’d given me a floored stare, wondering what it was that tempted me about this crazy, charming town, but by the time she left, the twinkle in her eye and the promise to return told me she felt it too.
At first, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. But after a few weeks of scoping out the local art scene, I found so much untapped and unappreciated talent in the local artists that I knew I’d stumbled on a veritable copper mine.
I thought I was going to have to start small, but after the success of my first exhibit at the Belleza, the whole town was eager to see what I would bring them next, especially with Sam by my side.
A month after I decided to stay, I hosted my second exhibit at the Belleza. A month after that, the third.
Then, two months ago, Lorelei came to me and told me she was going to be selling the gallery. She’d decided to move to Florida to be with her family. I’d thought she was going to tell me it was already sold. It turned out, she came to me because she wanted to give me the first opportunity to buy it.
I was pretty sure Sam thought I’d actually seen one of Bisbee’s infamous ghosts from the look on my face when I got home that night.
As soon as I told him what Lorelei offered, there was only one question he asked.
“Is this part of your dream?”
At which point, I gave him a million reasons why I wasn’t sure.
I’d only just moved back.
I didn’t have all the money to do it, and I wouldn’t ask him.
I worried what running two businesses would do to our relationship—a relationship that was more than I’d ever imagined.
But Sam… was Sam. He was calm. And thoughtful. And certain this was right.
It turned out, Mee-Maw had been saving up for years—years when she thought she was going to have to buy a house in New York if I was going to continue to live there. So, when I insisted I wouldn’t take money from Sam’s business to fund my own, she stepped in and declared that she would fund the purchase under two conditions.
One, that Nico was invited to display in the gallery once a year.
Two, that her repayment would be made in great-grandbabies. And soon.
“We won’t be late. I promise,” he swore, leading me up to our favorite lookout and not stopping until we were staring out over the old copper pit, the fading sun streaking the sky with lazy fireworks of color.
“Trouble,” I charged, turning into his arms and smiling up at him.
The last year had almost completely erased the time we’d spent apart from my memory. It healed every scar, eased every hurt, and had given me days filled with so much hope and love, it was impossible to think of anything else.
“Today your dream comes true,” he said with a low rumble, the color in his eyes seeming deeper and flecked with a bright gold I hadn’t seen before.
“No,” I told him, a small smile spreading my lips. “I told you, my only dream is to be with you, and you’ve more than made that one come true.”
He groaned, slanting his lips across mine and kissing me until my knees turned to jelly and my head swam.
It wouldn’t be the first—or fifteenth—time we’d had sex at our lookout. And I was more than willing to be a few minutes late to meet Lorelei if that was going to be the case.
Instead, Sam pulled back, leaving me gasping and staring at him curiously.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he rasped, brushing his palm along the side of his head to make sure his hair was out of his face.
My head tipped. “Why?”
His lips quirked in an equally devious and nervous smile as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Because I have a dream I’m hoping you’ll make come true.”
“But we’ve already had sex up here,” I blurted out, glancing around.
Sam laughed and shook his head… as he got down on one knee.
Only then did it all click into place and my mouth formed a small o.
“Always impatient,” he said with a low rumble, pulling out a small box from his pocket. “Can’t even give a man a chance to tell you that his only dream is to marry you, if you’d want to make that dream come true.”
I cupped a hand lightly over my mouth, speechless, with my heart pounding.
“Tally Kerr, I have loved you and will love you forever. Will you marry me?” He pulled open the box as he asked, revealing the heart-shaped turquoise stone ring I’d seen in the window of Hea
rt of Blue the day I realized he owned it—the day he confessed to loving me.
“Sam…” I exhaled. “That’s the ring.”
I hadn’t seen it after that day and, unable to stop myself, I’d asked about it once and Sam told me someone had purchased it.
“You claimed my heart,” he replied with a low rumble. “If you’ll have it…”
Realizing I hadn’t answered him, I gasped and immediately blubbered ‘yes’ so many times it was a wonder he understood me.
Fumbling and stuttering with my tear-filled yes, Sam slid the ring he’d made onto my finger for the second time in our lives, and pulled me into his arms—this time for good.
“I love you,” I whispered, linking my arms around his neck and staring at the ring on my finger.
Sometimes, the most valuable things—the things we can only hope for—take time and steady work to turn them into something priceless.
We’d found each other when we were young. Friendship like an uncut, unpolished block holding Bisbee Blue. Time together and time apart burred away the concealing rock until the depth of our love finally shone through. It was vibrant and unique. It was layered with the various colored threads from our past, and that was what made it ours. What made it real. What made it perfect.
“I love you, too, Tally.”
Sam crushed his lips to mine. Hot and demanding, his tongue burrowed into my gasp, finding all the corners of my mouth that were hungry for the deepened kiss.
He held me with the strength of an oak tree and the heat of a forest fire pressed to my chest.
“You and me,” I demanded, our kiss growing more frantic, and I knew for sure that we were going to be a few minutes late to the gallery.
And I was completely okay with that.
His brief smile caressed my lips before tracing the words, “Against the world” over my mouth.
Sighing into the man that was my dream, I added a new, final line to our promise—one that would never fade—one I wrote into the sand next to our feet.
“Forever.”
The End
Did you love Sam and Tally’s second-chance romance? Reserve your copy of the next standalone in the Country Love Collection, Ex To See—a fake-relationship romantic comedy! Reserve your copy here.
Remember Arizona: A Second Chance Romance (Country Love Collection) Page 19
