He smiled and leaned over, returning her kiss and playfully nipping at her cheek. “So what does it matter what they say?”
Kate thought about it for a few moments, enjoying the rush of people that sped past them as they sat on the sidewalk.
“You’re right.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Just keep doing your thing, Katie. Your stuff is real and raw and beautiful. The important people are going to see that.”
Kate glanced at him from the corner of her eye, marveling at how easy it was to love him. Most of their friends and family still found Javi and Kate something of an oddity. He was taciturn, antisocial, and old enough that more than one person commented. She was optimistic, friendly, and playful, unless she was in the middle of a shoot.
Yet despite all their differences, Kate and Javi just worked. Dee had seen it. Reed saw it, and even Kate’s father had told her the month before he thought Javi was “good for her.” Their friends might have been initially stumped, but no one could deny that the two made each other happy; and both were doing exceptional work.
Javi finished his food and stood, holding a hand out to Kate, who ate the last bite of her taco and reached out for him. He tossed their garbage away, put an arm around her, and held her a little closer as they meandered through the crowd. She leaned her head on his shoulder and kept moving forward.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
New York City, New York
September 2011
“Why do I have to keep telling you to hold still?”
The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of their apartment as Sam lay on the bed, propped up by pillows and surrounded by rumpled sheets as her husband of six months perched next to her, sighing in frustration as he tried to work.
“It tickles.” She giggled as the paintbrush traced over her stomach. “Maybe you should distract me. Take your clothes off. You being naked always distracts me.”
Reed smirked. “I’m sure you’d be plenty distracted, but I don’t think you’d be holding still. You never hold still; it’s one of the reasons I love you.” He winked, and his fingers traced up and around her swollen abdomen. He laid a gentle kiss on her bellybutton before the paintbrush swirled around it in an intricate filigree.
“Whose idea was this again? Oh yes, yours. This was your idea.”
“It’s a great idea. Be quiet.”
“I already have stretch marks down there, don’t I?” Sam wrinkled her nose a little as she stared at her pregnant belly. When they found out she was pregnant five months before, she had been surprised, to say the least. They had been told conceiving would be difficult, so she and Reed were initially shocked, then thrilled, when the doctor told them the unexpected news.
They had quietly married in a small ceremony the previous March, six months after they had been reunited in California and two months after they moved back to New York. They’d spent a relaxing week in Savannah for their honeymoon, where Sam painted the oak allée of Forsyth Park, this time including the old men who sat in the park feeding the birds, and the young children playing in front of the fountain. Reed took countless pictures of her as she worked, feeling invigorated by the camera for the first time in years.
Lydia had been thrilled to have them back, though she was less than thrilled when both of them seemed determined to spend several months out of the year in Southern California. Reed and Sam just dug their heels in and told her to deal with it.
“Reed?” Sam asked again. “I have stretch marks, don’t I?”
“Mmmhmm,” he mumbled, his forehead wrinkled as he traced the elaborate Mehndi designs over his wife’s pregnant belly with black tempera paint. “I want to go back to India when the baby's old enough. I miss the colors. Maybe my mom can go with us.” He continued tracing. “I should have done this on your hands and feet with henna when we got married. I think Dee did for her wedding.”
Sam laughed, but tried to hold still when he shot her a dirty look. “I’m not Indian, Reed,” she pointed out logically. “There might have been a few funny looks at the courthouse.”
“Who cares? It’s beautiful.” He drew out the word sensuously as the brush swirled along her skin. “And so are your stretch marks.”
“Stretch marks are not beautiful.”
“They are when they’re on my wife who is pregnant with our child. They’re pretty great then, if you ask me. Besides… they’re interesting,” Reed murmured.
His head cocked to the side as he continued painting; and his dark hair, which he had grown out a little, fell into his eyes. “It’s your skin, but different. That’s what makes it beautiful.”
Reed’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he continued, speaking quietly as the brush moved over and around her belly. “We’re always changing. Why do you think I like to photograph people? Every person is unique. Changing all the time. No two pictures are alike.” He was silent after that, but finally looked up when he heard her sniff. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Sam brushed the tears away. “I love the way you see people. I love the way you see me. I wish more people looked at the world the way you do.”
He smiled, pausing to wipe the rest of the tears from the corner of her eye. “Don’t cry. Besides, if everyone saw the world the way I did, we’d be poor, because no one would want my pictures.” Reed winked at her, and she laughed at his self-deprecation.
“Okay, now hold still.” He frowned as he continued his work.
“Don’t make me laugh, then.”
“This is going to photograph beautifully with this light. I can’t wait to see it.”
“Black and white?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“You’re going to want to do this every month, aren’t you?”
“Yep. Every single month.” He continued swirling paint around her hips as she rolled her eyes. “It’s going to be great. Your belly’s just going to get bigger and bigger.”
“Damn you and your tall genes.”
“If you wanted short, stubby babies, you should have married Javi.”
“Um, no,” she snorted. “And I think Kate might have something to say about that idea.”
“Hold still,” he ordered again.
“Are you almost finished?”
“Almost.” He trailed a few strokes of the brush up toward Sam’s recently bountiful breasts. She looked and saw a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.
“Are you photographing those, too?”
“Maybe. Just for posterity, you know.”
“Posterity. Right,” she said, smiling at him.
Just as Reed was filling in the designs on her left side, she felt a small wave ripple under her skin. Reed gasped, and Sam looked at him.
“What? What is it?”
“The baby moved,” he whispered.
“Reed, I told you the baby moves all the time. Especially when I’m lying still.”
He smiled in excitement. “But I saw him this time.” He folded two long fingers, gently laying the backs against the side of her belly where she’d felt the small undulation. He sat, barely breathing until she felt another small slip of movement against his hand. Reed looked up at her, beaming.
“That’s the first time you’ve felt him, right?”
He set the brush to the side and stretched out next to her on the bed, the paint momentarily forgotten. “Yes.” He kissed her tenderly. Reed stroked her cheek, then her hair as he hid his face in her neck. She felt his soft breath against her skin when he whispered, “Not dreaming?”
“Not dreaming.” Her hand reached up to lay against his jaw, and she felt the deep rise and fall of his chest pressed against her shoulder.
“I love you,” he said, then sat up to finish the paint. “And as soon as these pictures are finished, I’m going to spend a few hours showing you how much.”
She laughed before he hushed her again. Sam said, “I can’t decide whether you in work mode is sexy or irritating right now.”
“I say, go with sexy,” he said as his e
yebrows furrowed in concentration.
“Of course you do.”
Sam smiled when she felt the last cold lick of the brush against her belly; then Reed started cleaning up and arranging the sheets to drape around her before he went to his camera, ducking down to adjust the tripod so he could take his shots.
Her eyes stalked him, handsome and wild in the afternoon light, oblivious to her admiring gaze. He was wearing only a pair of faded jeans. His dark hair was tangled from waking that morning, and he hadn’t shaved in days.
Despite their years together, the heartbreak of their separation, and the challenges of their reconciliation, Reed still captured Sam’s imagination like no one else in the world, and her fingers itched for her sketchbook. But she relented and lay still, basking as he turned his focus on her. He bent down and adjusted the settings on the camera before he looked through the lens.
“Ah,” he said with a slow smile, “there you are.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Pomona, California
September 2011
“Lydia’s in town next week,” Kate said as she read the local paper and drank coffee at the kitchen table of the house in Lincoln Park.
Javi flipped the eggs onto a plate and carried it over, setting it down in the middle of the table and handing her a fork.
“Thanks, baby,” she murmured and frowned at the article he’d pointed out to her about a new development that was supposed to be going in adjacent to downtown. “You, know, I don’t know how they think this is going to benefit the neighborh—”
“Lydia?” he interrupted, staring at her until she looked up. He reached over to their shared plate and took a bite of sausage. “Did she call you? What does she want? Your stuff or mine?”
“She’s angling for the sculpture again. Wants it for a show. She called trying to get me to convince you—”
“Not gonna happen,” he bit out, scowling into his coffee. “I’ll talk to her. She doesn’t need to be bothering you with that shit again. You’ve got stuff to do.”
Kate shrugged and took a bite of the fried eggs. “I can call her. You two will just end up arguing. No need to piss her off unless we have to. I told her you didn’t want to show it. It’s my fault for showing her the pictures I took in the first place. I’m still kicking myself for that.” She shook her head ruefully.
He grunted as he sipped his coffee. “Did she tell you I won’t have to shave for those publicity shots she wants Reed to do next month?”
Kate snickered. “I thought your birthday was in May?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Haha. Apparently bad boy artists with tattoos are all the rage in the art world this month. Did you know you were such a lucky woman? She wants to take full advantage of my natural charm. She even wanted me to pierce my ears. That, obviously, was a no.”
Kate almost snorted coffee through her nose. “Oh really? Did she ask you to wear skinny jeans, too?” She chuckled in amusement, but didn’t miss the embarrassed expression on her boyfriend’s face. “She did?” Kate exclaimed, before bursting into laughter.
“That was a no, too.”
“Hipster Javi,” she said as he glared at her. Kate just grinned as he sat near the windows in the sun. She loved the way the light caught the tiny specks of silver that flecked his hair. She knew Javi hated it, but Kate liked the small signs that marked the passage of their time together.
“I guess I understand why she wants that sculpture. It’s the kind of thing reporters eat up.”
It was true. After Kate’s first big show in May, critics had been as interested in the intriguing relationship between the well-known sculptor and the photographic newcomer as they were in the actual show. Kate and Javi had let Lydia do the talking, trying to stay out of it as much as possible and keep their relationship private.
“I guess it’s not that big a deal, and if we’re going to get technical, I gave you the sculpture, so if you wanted to let Lydia show it in a gallery—”
“Javi! Shut up. You know I’m not going to put it in a gallery if you don’t want to show it. It’s too personal anyway. Besides, it’s not mine, it’s… community property.”
He smirked. Kate knew he loved pissing her off, just to get a rise out of her.
“Not technically it isn’t, unless you’ve decided to marry me this week.”
Kate glanced up before taking another sip of coffee. “You quit smoking yet?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not this week.”
Kate raised a single eyebrow. “Let me know when you do.” She took another bite of the eggs.
Javi had been cutting back gradually, and even stashed a box of the dreaded nicotine patches in his truck, but he hadn’t slapped one on yet because he was still working on the cast for her ring. If he had to give up cigarettes to marry the woman, there was no need to do it prematurely.
He shrugged and decided to change the subject. “I have some other pieces I did in mahogany I’ll show her; maybe it’ll distract her for a while.” He grabbed the paper she wasn’t really reading and took another drink of coffee. “How long is she here?”
Kate scowled when she lost the paper, but took a bite of the spicy sausage he had cooked to go with the eggs. “A month or so, I think.”
He saw her chew, finally registering when her mouth began to burn. She started breathing a little more heavily and took a drink of coffee. “Did you put hot sauce on these again?” She glared across the table.
He reached over and took another bite, smiling an evil grin. “What? I cook breakfast, I get to make what I like. Lightweight.” She stood up, scowling at him and slapping his shoulders which were shaking with laughter. She walked to the sink to get a drink of water, trying to wash the scorch from her mouth. Still laughing, Javi rose from the table and went to stand behind her, boxing her in at the counter as she reached behind to elbow him in the ribs.
“Not funny,” she muttered between gulps of water.
He lifted the tangled hair at the back of her neck. She was wearing one of his old black t-shirts, and her pale skin peeked out from the tiny burns that dotted the shoulders. “Sorry, Katie, but it’s very funny.” He kissed the back of her neck, still chuckling as she swatted at his arms.
Javi finally grabbed her hands and held them tightly in his own as he wrapped his arms around her. He looked down to see their arms entwined, her pale skin against his vividly tattooed forearms. Their hands tangled together, and he looked again at the small letter “K” he had discreetly added to the inside of his wrist. When her arm twisted, he saw the small “J” on the inside of her own, and he felt his heart swell.
He leaned in and lightly bit her neck, right behind her jaw. “I love you,” he whispered.
Catching his sudden change of mood, she worked her arms loose, and turned to put them around his neck so she could look in his eyes. “I love you, too,” she said before she lay a soft kiss on his lips. “Even if you do try to burn my tongue off.”
He nuzzled along her jaw. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”
“Yes,” she said right before his mouth caught hers. He pulled her close, grabbing her waist and turning them so he was leaning against the counter. She pressed against his chest, and he cradled her hips in his strong hands.
Javi finally pulled back and looked into her heated blue eyes with a cocky smile. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Hmmm, do we have anything to do today?” he asked as he played with a piece of her wild, red hair.
“Sadly, yes. I need to get some work done for my December show, and then Mari invited us over for dinner with the boys.” He grunted when she straightened up. “And didn’t you say you wanted to go see that guy in Ontario about some salvage metal? Otherwise, I’d say we needed to catch up on our sleep and hide in the house all weekend.”
Javi nicked her neck with his teeth before he walked to the table to finish his coffee. He picked up the breakfast dishes, and put them in the sink as Kate went back to their bedroom to show
er and get dressed.
He walked down the hall to their room, reaching down to grab his boots by the door so he could join her at the warehouse while she worked. He stopped at the dresser to get a clean t-shirt and, glancing up, he saw the photograph Reed had taken of them earlier that summer sitting in a simple brown frame.
In typical O’Connor fashion, it didn’t show their whole faces, but Reed had positioned Kate so her keen blue eyes lined up with Javi’s stubborn jaw. She was looking down toward his collarbone, and the lens captured the swell of her cheek as she began to smile. His chin tilted toward her, and his mouth was slightly open. Kate’s eyes were warm and loving as she stared at his scarred neck, and Javi marveled at the way she saw him.
His finger came up to trace the lock of hair in the photograph as it fell forward a little, and he remembered doing the same thing as his other arm wrapped around her back when they took the picture. He heard her hum as she got ready in the bathroom, and his eyes drank in the small traces of her scattered throughout the room.
A camera on the nightstand. A little blue tank top rumpled on the floor. A ponytail holder on the dresser with a few long, red hairs twisted in it.
Javi smiled at the small and welcome intrusions and decided it might be a good day to quit smoking after all.
The End
For more information about Elizabeth Hunter and her work, please visit ElizabethHunterWrites.com or email her at [email protected]
About the Author
Elizabeth Hunter is a contemporary fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance author. She is a graduate of the University of Houston Honors College in the Department of English (Linguistics) and a former English teacher.
She currently lives in Central California with a six-year-old ninja who claims to be her child. She enjoys reading, writing, travel, and bowling (despite the fact that she’s not very good at it). Someday, she plans to learn how to scuba-dive. And maybe hang-glide. But that looks like a lot of running.
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