by Desiree Holt
The two men glared at each other for a long moment, neither of them moving.
“Is everything all right here?”
Lexie blinked. How the hell had Vivian Salton gotten in the middle of this? They hadn’t even raised their voices.
Rick took a step back. “It’s fine, Vivian. Thanks for asking. Lexie, I’ll see you later.”
“Over my dead body,” Killian mumbled.
“Lexie, we’re about to speak to the crowd. Could you please come back into the ballroom?”
“Yes, of course. I just need to run to the restroom.”
“Well, please be quick about it.” The woman turned and strode back into the ballroom on needle-thin heels so high Lexie wondered how she stayed upright.
“I’ll wait right outside the door for you,” Killian said, walking down the hall with her. He sounded as if he was chewing nails.
“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just be a minute.”
Throughout the speeches, Killian stood beside Lexie, his big hand holding hers, but his body was tense as a high wire. Damn that Rick, anyway, for ruining her evening. When, at last, they could leave, she couldn’t get away fast enough.
They rode back to the hotel in thick silence. Lexie wanted to get the situation out in the open, but when she tried to bring it up, Killian said, “Not now.”
Then they were back in their room. She kicked off her heels and fell into one of the big armchairs.
“I didn’t encourage him, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She had to get it out there.
“You sure that’s not what you had in mind when you said you needed to, uh, freshen up?”
“What? Are you kidding me?” She pushed herself out of the chair. “How could you even think such a thing? You know what he did to me. Besides, I love you more than anything in the world.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Lexie. We did get married in kind of a hurry. And I know this whole Savannah deal is a big thing to you. He can do a lot more for you than I ever could.”
“Are you for real?” Now she was the one who was angry. “If that’s what you think, then maybe you’re right. We did get married too fast. Maybe we ought to—” She broke off. “I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m going to get ready for bed. I have a big day tomorrow, and I need my rest. And I won’t let your stupid, unfounded jealousy spoil it.”
They were careful to each stay on their own side of the bed, but Lexie took a long time falling asleep.
*****
Killian spent most of the day cursing himself and calling himself all kinds of a fool. How the hell had he made such a mess? Of course Lexie didn’t want anything to do with the asshole. He’d just been feeling so inadequate since they arrived in Savannah. He knew this whole thing was way out of his league and worried Lexie would wake up any minute and realize it.
Now, he was the asshole, ruining what was probably going to be the biggest day of her life. At least her professional life. He had been blown away by her talent from the first moment he saw her paintings and, as subtly as possible, encouraged her to spread her wings again. The fact she’d applied to enter this prestigious art show was a big step for her, and now, he’d turned it all to shit. He’d play hell trying to make it all up to her.
He wondered how he’d be able to do that. She’d spoken to him today only when absolutely necessary and then in the coldest of tones. He would have thought it pent-up anger except, in unguarded moments, he saw the hurt in her eyes.
Way to go, dipshit.
They hadn’t eaten dinner. She’d been too nervous, and he’d long ago lost his appetite. There would be food at the gallery, so maybe he could coax her into a bite or two. The cab ride to the gallery passed in a tension-filled silence. When they pulled up to the address, he could see a huge place, well-lit, jammed with people in small groups. When he reached for Lexie’s hand, she pulled it away from him, but not before he felt its chill. If that jerkoff Rick was around, crowd or not, he planned to take him out back and smash his face into the ground.
Inside, they showed their badges from the previous night and another young girl checked their names off a list.
“There are bars upstairs and downstairs,” she told them, “and a food buffet against that far wall. Please help yourselves.” Then she handed them each a book. “A catalogue of the entries. As you see each exhibit, you can look up information about the artist.”
“Thanks.” Killian managed a smile. Then he turned to Lexie. “How about showing me your entry in this high-falutin’ show?”
She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, even white teeth sinking into that plump lip. He could tell it was a sudden case of nerves worse than she’d had since they arrived in Savannah.
“Maybe we could get a drink first.”
He cupped her chin, locking his gaze with hers. “What is it, Lexie? You’ve avoided showing me this painting from the gitgo. Is there something wrong with it?”
She looked down at her feet. “Just promise me you won’t be mad or anything.”
“At your painting?” He was stunned. “Why would I be mad? I love your paintings. Remember me? I’m the guy who encouraged you to do this.”
She let out a sigh. “Okay. It’s over here.”
She led him to a short curved wall to the right of the entry area. The painting itself was fairly large, but he’d remembered that from when she wrapped it. The first thing he noticed was the frame made of barn wood, and he wondered who she’d gotten to do it for her and why she’d chosen that. Next, the painting itself, vivid beneath the spotlight centered over it. A painting of a cowboy astride an Appaloosa. They were stopped on a slight rise in a meadow, the setting sun behind them bathing everything in gold.
Suddenly, a switch clicked in his brain and he took a step closer. Holy shit! The painting was him! He remembered that day. He’d saddled the horse he’d purchased for his own riding pleasure. Even though the stallion had been past his prime for breeding, Killian still fell in love with him and purchased him for his own mount. Lexie had come out to watch and taken some pictures with her little camera.
She had it down so perfect the horse almost came to life on the canvas. But the rider drew his attention. It was him, and every stroke had been painted with so much love it all but leapt off the background. Her whole heart was laid out plain for everyone to see, all the love she felt for him practically vibrating off the canvas.
What a fucking fool he was. A jealous fucking asshole. He’d been so uptight about this whole thing and the appearance of Rick, he’d gone off the deep end. Jumped to a conclusion he really had no basis for. But, worse, he’d practically told her he didn’t trust her. He wanted to hide in a corner and weep.
“Killian?” Her soft voice reached him even over the noise of the crowd. “Do, um, you like it?”
“Like it?” He could hardly speak over the lump in his throat. “Lexie, I love it. It’s magnificent. You just…You did…”
He couldn’t find the right words, so he grabbed her, right there in the middle of the crowd, and kissed her as hard as he could. He put every single thing he felt for her in that kiss, hoping to break down the wall she’d built since last night. When he lifted his head, his heart beat so hard he was sure she could hear it.
“I didn’t want you to see it before I sent it off,” she told him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t like it and would tell me not to enter it.”
“There’s no question about my liking it,” he assured her, “but, yeah, I don’t know if I’d have wanted you to share it with the world.” He shook his head. “Lexie. Darlin’. Can you forgive this idiot for being such a jealous fool? Please.”
“You should know I didn’t invite Rick’s kiss.” Her voice was still tinged with hurt.
“I do. Of course I do. I think I was just scared you’d see all this, want to be right back in it, and be sorry you were saddled with me.”
“Oh, Killian.” She reached up a hand and stroked his cheek. “You’re all I want
. Don’t you know that by now?”
“Just keep telling me, okay? It’s hard for me to believe an accomplished artist like you would be willing to settle for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” She stared up at him. “But someone like you is exactly what I want. You are exactly what I want.”
He would have kissed her again, but someone tapped him on the arm. He looked at Vivian Salton, wondering if it was okay to tell a committee member to piss off and leave them alone. Then he remembered why they were here. This was Lexie’s big moment—at least he hoped it was—so he took a step back.
“Just giving my beautiful, talented wife a good luck kiss,” he told the woman.
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time for that later.” Vivian stretched her thin lips in a fake smile. “We’re about to announce the winners. Lexie, you need to come to the podium area.”
Killian took his wife’s small hand in his, giving it an intimate squeeze as they walked to where the microphone had been set up. Anatole Rudman, one of the partners in the Rudman-Speight Gallery and a major sponsor of the competition, was already there, smiling at everyone.
“I want to thank everyone for coming,” he began. “This is an important night for everyone. You all know why we are here, so I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. We have some outstanding entries this year and the choices were very tough. Let’s begin with third place.”
Lexie squeezed his hand harder than he thought she could for someone so small.
He leaned down to her. “I don’t care if you don’t win one of their stupid prizes. I think you’re the best artist in the world, and I’ll take out an ad telling everyone.”
“Okay.” She tried to smile, but it wasn’t working well.
They announced third place and then second, and, with each announcement, Lexie’s grip grew tighter.
“And now,” Anatole Rudman said, “we come to our first place winner. This artist is long overdue the recognition for her work. If not for some behind the scenes maneuvering, she would have received it three years ago. The Savannah Art Show judges and this gallery are proud to announce our first place winner tonight. Lexie Walker, please step forward.”
When she didn’t move, Killian nudged her. Her eyes were so wide he wondered they didn’t fall out of her head.
“Did they actually call my name?” she asked.
“Sure did, sugar. And your fan club wants you.”
Loud applause had broken out, with people all around them clapping with enthusiasm. , Rudman smiled at her and motioned for her to come forward, so Killian guided her close to where the man stood.
“Lexie, this has been too long in coming,” he said in his slightly accented voice. “But it is my very great pleasure to award to you first place in the annual Savannah Art Show. Your exceptionally fine piece of prairie art makes an incredible statement in the art world.”
He handed her a crystal obelisk on a wood base, the name of the award, her name, and the date etched on it. Killian was sure Lexie would drop it in her totally dazed state, so he put his hand beneath hers to support it. Finally, she managed to speak.
“Thank you so much for this. I thank the committee, the judges…” She looked around the gallery. “All of you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
“One more thing.” Andrew Speight, Rudman’s partner came forward. “Part of the first place prize is an opportunity for a one-woman show. Anatole and I would like that show to be here, at this gallery.”
Killian thought his wife looked ready to faint, so he put his arm around her and pulled her close to him.
“I think I can speak for her,” he said, “and she accepts this very great honor. When the shock wears off, she’ll want to sit down and talk with you about it.”
“Of course. If the two of you are going to be here tomorrow, we’d like you to have lunch with us and discuss dates and details.”
Killian nodded. “Of course.”
“Right now, I think we should let the lady enjoy her well-deserved success.”
Lexie finally pulled herself together enough to express her thanks. When he was assured she’d be okay on her own, he went to find Vivian Salton and conduct a little business.
“By the way,” she added when their deal had concluded, “please tell Lexie that Rick was not supposed to be at the event last night. He talked one of the young interns into making a badge for him so he could get in. When you buy your success and you don’t have the talent, it quickly shows. He’s been a huge failure in the art world. I think he thought he could still control her and ride her coattails. The committee has taken care of that. Family influence only goes so far. And the intern has been duly chastised, let me tell you.”
“Thanks. You can bet I’ll make damn sure she knows.”
She studied him for a long moment. “I have to say, Mr. Walker, she’s chosen very well. I hope you know that you have, too.”
“Believe me, I do. I nearly screwed it up because I was so stupid, but that won’t happen again.”
“Good, because that wife of yours is going to go far in the art world.”
He took great pleasure in just watching her for a while as she blossomed more and more, chatted with guests, with the other artists, with the judges. Then she went back to look at the painting, at the ribbon placed beside it…and the little sign. Immediately, she came running to him.
“Killian, you have to help me.” He hated the look of distress on her face but he knew it would be gone in a moment.
“What’s the problem, sugar?”
“I told the committee my painting was not for sale, and it’s got a Sold ticket on it.”
“Sure does,” he agreed.
“B-but I don’t want to sell it. It’s too personal to hang in some stranger’s home. I painted it because I wanted you to see how much I love you.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “That’s why I bought it myself. I wanted to be the buyer for your first sale, and I want that painting to hang in our bedroom.”
A smile broke out like sunshine, and she threw herself at him.
“Oh, Killian. I really, really, really love you.”
“And I’ll never doubt it again. I love you as much, sugar.”
When the evening wound down and they finally broke free, Anatole Rudman called a cab to take them back to the hotel. This time, they held hands and the silence was comfortable rather than strained.
But Killian had one more thing to tell her, and he figured he’d better do it now while he had the courage. As soon as they were in their room, he turned her to face him.
“I hope this won’t upset any apple carts,” he said, “but I don’t know if you noticed. Yesterday, when we made love, I forgot something.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “You did? I can’t imagine what.”
He pressed his lips to her ear and whispered, “A condom.”
She froze in his arms for a moment. “Is-is that a bad thing for you?”
“Hell, no. I want a baby with you more than anything. How about you?”
“I think a little Walker would just be the frosting on the cake.”
He swung her up in his arms. “Then let’s make sure we hit a bull’s-eye.”
Epilogue
At approximately five in the evening on December twenty-fourth, the entire family arrived at Dusty’s house on Osprey Lake.
Marliss opened the door for the group as they crowded together on the porch, giving hugs to the women, and manly pats on the back to the brothers. Hunter jumped up and down with excitement.
“Oh, good.” Marliss grinned at them. “You’re all here together. Well, come on in and let’s get to celebrating.”
Marliss and Lou had gone all-out in decorating the place. Flickering electric candles glowed in every window, pine greenery graced the mantel of the big flat stone fireplace, and garland wrapped in white lights ran along the railing of the walkway on the second floor.
The tree was a massive white pine culled from a local grower, since no pine trees called Kansas their native home. Multicolored lights shimmered among the green needles, but no ornaments hung from the boughs.
Theresa Walker had boxes of white bulbs that she’d always decorated the tree with, but after the brothers discussed it, they’d all agreed with Marliss that those could stay in the basement storage room this year.
Killian and Lexie, Rogue and Kit, Jackson and Rori, and Dylan, Zoe and even little Hunter each brought a few ornaments to hang on the tree as the beginning of a new tradition for their extended families.
They’d chosen to gather here on Christmas Eve so they could travel the next day to whichever other family holiday they wanted to attend.
As the brothers hauled in wrapped packages by the dozens, a number of them looking suspiciously like bicycles in the perfect size for a five-year-old, the women congregated in the kitchen. Lou, running at full throttle in his Santa apron, had all four ovens going, one with a turkey, one held a beef roast, and the others emitted the amazing scents of side dishes.
Wearing a red-and-black plaid dress, black leggings, and gold lamé shoes with tiny bells on them, Marliss shooed them out of the kitchen to the formal dining room, where hot plates bearing fancy appetizers sat on the sideboard, and a wide variety of cocktail options awaited them at the portable bar.
Lexie played bartender, and soon each of the women held glasses. They nibbled on the appetizers, then filled plates with the delicious goodies and wandered into the living room, sharing their delicacies with their men.
“Looks like the gals have found the bar.” Rogue put the last of the colorful packages under the tree.
Jackson walked up to the group, holding four heavy tumblers of Dusty’s finest single-barrel whiskey. He handed one to each of his brothers. “I’m thinking we should each say a few words. Ladies?”
“Let’s hear the toasts,” Marliss urged as she and Lou walked into the room, each carrying their own glass.
“I’ll go first,” Lexie said, “if that’s okay. The best day of my life was the day Killian walked into it. Like everyone else, we’ve had our challenges.” She looked at Killian. “I’m grateful for the man he is and for the future we have together. I love you, Killian. Merry Christmas.”
