by MK Schiller
“I found this small art supply store. I don’t know if I purchased the right materials.”
He threw off his suit jacket. “I’ll make it work.” He undid his cufflinks. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. What are you going to paint?”
“My favorite subject.” He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his crisp white shirt. He stripped down to his boxers.
“Why are you stripping?”
He stared at me, a hunger in his eyes that robbed me of all senses. “I’m not going to risk getting paint on anything. I can be very messy, Mary.”
He lifted my blouse and then reached behind me to unclasp my bra. My skirt followed.
“Leave your knickers on.”
He moved a chair to the middle of the room, his excitement growing. “Sit here, lass.”
“Like this?” I asked, sitting very straight.
He undid the clip in my hair. “Bring your feet up. I’ve seen you sit that way before. It’s comfortable for you, yeah?”
I nodded and did as he asked.
“You look beautiful, Mary.” His lips grazed mine.
He went to the easel. I remained as still as possible for as long as possible. I snuck glances at him in my peripheral. He was definitely in his element, the passion evident on his face. I wasn’t tracking the time, but the dim sky had turned dark, and I couldn’t maintain my position any longer. “I need a break, Liam.”
“Right.”
He came over to me. He massaged my legs and stretched them. “You’re very tense. I should have noticed. Sometimes I get carried away.”
“I’m fine.”
He steadied me as I stretched. “Want to see it?”
“Yes.”
He’d done me in a black background with shimmering gold light around me. I marveled at the way he captured little details, like the white half-moon tips of my fingernails. He put his arm around my waist. He had paint splatters all over his chest. “I love it.”
“Thank you.”
“You are messy.”
He took the brush, dipped it in a dollop of bottled green, and painted on my stomach. I looked down at the smiley face he drew. “Now we match.”
“Not quite.” I took the brush from him and tried to make a heart on his arm, but it looked more like a weird circle.
“Oh, you’ll pay for that, Miss Costa.” He tickled me so hard I fell to the ground. He moved on top of me. We rolled around, knocking into the table. The paint tray fell on us. Paint dripped down his back and across my side. He traced the line of my hip with citrus orange. I painted his back in an earthy red. Paint was everywhere. In our hair, on our bodies, and flowing onto the hardwood floor like lava. It would take forever to clean up, but for once, I wasn’t paying attention to the mess. I was so deliriously happy, I wanted to splash color on everything.
“Liam?”
“Yes, my love.”
I swirled all the colors with my fingertip. Then I took his left hand and drew a solid circle around the base of his ring finger.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m telling you it’s okay.”
“Okay?”
“You can ask me to marry you.”
He smiled a huge smile. I traced the crease on the side of his face with dark purple. He kissed my forehead. He held me close, our bodies slick with paint. “Thank you, love. I know how much you miss home.”
“You’re my home, Liam.”
Chapter 44
Liam
I wanted to fly out to California for the long weekend and propose at the Wilshire Pacific, but Mary was intrigued with the idea of Thanksgiving. She asked if we could have people over.
I had to admit, she’d managed to make closer friendships in two months than I had in all my years in the States. She had been animated when she talked about menus and guest lists and table centerpieces. And a bunch of other stuff my masculine tendencies precluded me from understanding. Regardless, I couldn’t deny her. Then she’d asked in a tentative whisper if we could invite Stephen. I didn’t know who was more shocked when I had agreed.
“What can I do?” I asked, putting my arms around her as she stirred a pot.
“Not distract me.”
I kissed her neck. “That might be difficult.”
She closed the lid and went to the opposite counter to peel potatoes. “Will you cut the onions? They always make me cry.”
“I can do that.”
I heard something roll onto the floor. I bent to pick it up. She turned around, her hands clapped against her mouth.
“Yes, Liam!”
“Yes what?” I realized the position I was in and what she thought. Shit. “You dropped this,” I said, handing her the potato.
Disappointment coursed through her face.
I arched my brow, trying and failing to hide my smile. “Thought I was proposing, did you?”
“Maybe,” she said, turning back around.
I spun her toward me. “I plan something much more romantic than kneeling on the kitchen floor while you’re peeling potatoes.”
“You don’t have to be romantic.”
“Yes, I do, Mary. You deserve it.”
We finished preparing the meal and getting ready just as our first guests arrived.
The Seville sisters were interesting. They brought Bubble and Squeak, which I never really enjoyed. For whatever reason, this made Mary giggle like a school girl.
“He is British, and it was the only British thing I could make,” one of them said.
Then the older one winked at me and commented what lovely cheeks I had. Cheeks she wouldn’t mind pinching. I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about my face.
Clawson, whose daughters weren’t coming home this year, came next, bringing some kind of pork stuffing.
“Hello, mate,” I said, taking the casserole dish from him.
“Mr. Montgomery, thanks for the invite.”
“It’s Liam. Call me Liam.”
“Okay, as long as you call me Clawson.”
I stopped in my tracks. “That is what I call you.”
“So it won’t be an issue then.”
Stephen came next, carrying a bottle of wine and a weary expression. “You sure about this, Liam?”
“No, but what the hell? You’re here.” I held up the bottle. “And you brought good wine.” I lowered my voice so Mary couldn’t hear me, but the warning was unmistakable. “Behave yourself. This is a big deal to Mary. She’s been working all day.”
“Behaving is not a problem, bro. But let me ask you something.”
“What?”
“What the hell kind of cheap bastard are you? You didn’t cater? Everyone this side of the Hudson caters.”
I cracked up, because I did sound like a cheap bastard. “I suggested it. Mary insisted on doing it all herself. Just so you know, she’s never made a turkey.”
“You think she’ll botch it up?”
“I have no idea, but no matter what, you’re going to eat everything on your plate and tell her it’s the best damn bird you’ve ever had, yeah?”
“Got it.”
Stephen strolled over to the painting in the living room. I had done it last week, and it was the only one that was appropriate for public display of any kind. There was no way anyone was going to see the nudes except for me. In this one, she wore my blue oxford shirt and a pair of fuzzy white socks.
“You’re painting again?”
“I am.”
“I’m glad, Liam. You have a talent.”
I would have treated a compliment from Stephen with suspicion if not for the sincerity of his delivery.
Mary wore an emerald green dress with a deep v-line. Her long hair cascaded in soft waves. The bracelet gleamed against her wrist. God, she was gorgeous. I debated kicking everyone out, sliding all the dishes off the dining room table, and having my way with her.
“Hello, Stephen,” she s
aid, holding out her hand.
Stephen kissed her cheek instead. I strained not to break my wine glass. “Looking good, Costa. You went shopping.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Find any lamb coats?”
She laughed. “Not yet.”
“Well, I hope you bought an evening dress, too. There’s a pretty big party next week.”
Shite.
I let out an aggravated sigh directed at my brother. “I told you, Stephen, I have no interest in going.”
“I don’t want to go, either,” he said.
“Then why are we discussing it?”
“Potential investors will be there, and we’re taking the company public, so it’s an important event for us. Besides, it’s for charity.”
“What charity?” Mary asked.
I sighed. “My stepmother throws an annual charity ball to support protecting endangered species. We don’t have to go.”
She looked worried. I wanted to hit Stephen in the back of the head for bringing it up when she was already stressed.
“Is it important for you to attend?” she asked.
“It’s a matter of opinion,” I said.
“No one wants to go. I think we’ve all established that,” Stephen said. “But we need to go. Our biggest clients and future investors will be in attendance. My mother’s friends aren’t exactly worthwhile people, but they are influential, and we need their backing.”
“Then we’ll go,” she said, offering me a hesitant smile.
I nodded at Stephen. He was right. “Okay, we’ll go.” I clapped my hands. “Let’s get this dinner party going. Are Chet and Tony coming?”
“Not until later. They’ll be here for dessert.”
“Then let’s eat.”
Thank goodness for the Seville sisters, because they could definitely entertain.
“My Charlie is constantly licking my face. I have to tell him no,” Dorothy said.
“I don’t mind it,” Lucille countered. “If only I could get him to stop biting.”
“You encourage him. Just as you let him into your bed every night. He belongs on the floor.”
Stephen looked at me questioningly. I shrugged.
“Who’s Charlie?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“Whoever he is, he’s sure getting a lot of action,” Stephen muttered.
“Their dog,” Mary said. Bill burst out laughing.
Oh, thank God.
Mary tapped her glass with a spoon. “I heard about this tradition where we all go around and say something we’re thankful for. Shall we try it?”
I nodded. “Sure, sweetheart.”
She turned to Stephen to start. He cleared his throat. “I’m thankful the strip clubs are open tonight.”
“Stephen!” I barked, although I sort of wanted to chuckle.
Mary tensed, and everyone looked uncomfortable. He sighed and started again. “I’m thankful to have people to spend Thanksgiving with.”
Bill was thankful for his daughters and said a special prayer for the one in the service, which we all said with him.
“It’s your turn, Miss Lucille,” Mary said.
“I’m thankful the strip club gave me the night off,” she said.
We were all silent for a second.
“So is everyone at the strip club,” Dorothy muttered.
Everyone at the table, including Lucille Seville, broke into laughter.
“In all seriousness,” Dorothy continued. “I’m thankful that no matter how large the gap exists between the old and young, we can still laugh together.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Stephen said, lifting his glass. We all toasted.
Mary went next. “I’m thankful, grateful rather, for friends who mean so much they become family, and family who can get past their struggles and become friends.”
I smiled at her, mouthing the words, “I love you.”
Mary inspired me in all ways. She was the catalyst for my passions. But even more, she made me want to be a better man.
When we finally quieted down, I cleared my throat. “I’m thankful for the girl at the other end of this table. The one who challenges and supports me.” I stood. “Mary, there’s something important I need to ask you.”
She gasped, a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Yes, Liam?”
“What’s burning?”
Her jaw dropped. “Shit.” She ran into the kitchen. I followed her.
She took out a blackened dish. I had no idea what it was except, judging from the smell, the onions I had chopped were definitely in there somewhere.
“I forgot about it,” she said.
“We’ve got plenty of food.”
“I thought you were going to ask me to marry you. Pretty mean, Liam.”
“I’m sorry for teasing you. But you’ve made me wait so long, you can wait just a bit, can’t you? A proposal is a thing of grand gestures. I want to make it perfect for you.”
Her lips twitched, fighting the smile. I tickled her until she gave in. “Okay, I forgive you.”
“Are you guys coming out here?” Stephen called. “The strip clubs are opening soon.”
Chapter 45
Mary
The sisters Seville shook their heads every time I modeled a new outfit. “Well, this is the last one,” I said, walking out in an understated knee-length black dress with slits on the side.
“Dear, that’s a lovely gown, but it belongs on a lady of mature years,” Dorothy said, pouring me some tea. “Someone our age.”
Lucille huffed. “Speak for yourself. I wouldn’t wear it.”
“I couldn’t find anything. I went to at least ten stores. I even used a personal shopper. But whatever fit in the waist, didn’t look right in the bust. I don’t have time for alternations.”
Dorothy handed me a cucumber sandwich on a tiny plate. “Well, you are well endowed. That’s a blessing and a curse.”
“It’s hopeless,” I said.
Dorothy’s teacup rattled when she set it down. She clapped her hands, animation coloring her gray eyes. “Sister, do you know what I’m thinking?”
“I can barely figure out what I’m thinking these days.”
“The Givenchy beaded gown.”
“What is that?” I asked.
“My second, and by far wealthiest husband, Hubert Rourke, bought it for me at a Sotheby’s auction. It was originally designed for Audrey Hepburn. Luckily, Miss Hepburn and I shared the same svelte figure, so tailoring wasn’t necessary. I bet you’d fill it out well.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You must,” Dorothy said, standing. “I’ll go fetch it. I’ve kept it in immaculate condition all these years. It’ll be wonderful to see someone wear it again.”
The dress was nothing short of spectacular. It hugged my curves, with a plunging neckline and open back. Tiny crystal beads were sewn into the fabric and outlined the hem. It was a work of art.
“Wow,” I said, staring at myself in Dorothy’s full-length mirror.
Dorothy adjusted the straps. “This is a true vintage couture piece. I knew you would do it justice.”
The reflection in the mirror was of a sexy, confident girl, who, until recently, had been a stranger to me.
“You’ll have to wear your hair up,” Dorothy said.
I gathered it in a low bun.
“No, dear, all the way up with a few scandalous wisps in just the right places. This is backless dress, and you have just the back for it. Hiding that would be akin to draping an oil cloth on the shoulder of Apollo. Show it off.”
I thought of the scar on my back and how it would look. It wasn’t just marred flesh. I’d let it define me and make choices for me. I wasn’t going to do that anymore. I wasn’t going to hide. In this room with the Seville sisters, I felt my dadima’s presence looking down at me and nodding with approval.
“You’re right,” I said.
Chapter 46
Mary
Liam and I were in a hotel once again. His stepmother’s home was a few hours’ drive from the city, so we stayed at the Wilshire Montauk. He jerked his head toward the bed, his eyes smoldering. I was tempted, but he looked too perfect in his tux. Meanwhile, I still wore the hotel robe.
“Later, sir. We’re running late.”
“I hate how right you are. Let me check your ink, at least.”
He brushed the hair away from my neck. Liam had held my hand the whole time Tony worked on recreating the lotus flower from Liam’s rendering. I’d been thinking of a tattoo ever since I met Tony. What better symbol to show I had emerged clean, regardless of the darkness in my past? Liam had rubbed the ointment on it every night.
He ran his fingers over it. His touch made my body shiver with need. “It’s healed.”
He referred to the tattoo, but I felt healed in all ways.
“I hope these match your dress,” he said, holding out a velvet box to me.
“Liam!”
“It’s not a ring.” My body slumped. I’d been so hesitant before, but now all I wanted was to marry him. He kissed my shoulder. “Don’t be disappointed. We’re going on a trip tomorrow.”
“A trip?”
“As soon as we leave here, we’ll head straight for the airport. Then we’re off to Hawaii for a few days.”
“But…”
“I called Tony. He switched your schedule around. I packed you a suitcase, although you might need to buy a few things. I even remembered your passport.”
“Why do I need my passport for Hawaii?” I wondered if I’d gotten my geography mixed up again.
“You’ll need photo ID. It’s the only one you have.”
I turned around. “I want to, Liam, but I promised to help Marcus’s mother with her job interviews. Besides, can you take another holiday with the IPO coming up?”
“First, she has a job and an apartment now.”
