Page 113 of Muddy Messy Love

Cole laughs. “Trust me, Lady Browne was on that phone with a hundred questions as soon as she got my email. Had you contacted her yourself, it would have happened anyway.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “A million times over.”

“Don’t mention it.” Cole nods towards the microwaved risotto on the island. “Did you have your heart set on that, or can I whisk you away for dinner at my place to celebrate?”

I rub my chin, pretending it’s a tough choice. “Well, I don’t know. That’s gourmet cuisine right there. Not to mention the company here is outstanding.”

Cole’s smile fades, and he rests his hands on my shoulders, hardening his stare. “Come stay with me for a week or two. Let things cool down here. I can drop you back whenever you need studio time.”

I refrain from breaking into a dorky, happy dance and instead kiss his cheek. The light stubble on his jaw scratches my lips. He doesn’t need to ask twice. “I’ll get my stuff.”

Twenty-Three

Ten hours and nineteenminutes before the exhibition opens, my rib cage feels like a stadium full of gremlins devouring a stash of speed. And by the time we glide up to the kerb outside Green Bird Gallery, they’re peaking.

Cole squeezes my goosebumped knee. “Are you okay?”

I grip the leather seat like it will keep me safe. “Nope. This was a huge mistake. What the hell was I thinking?”

His laughter fills the car. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Tonight, Cole smells like a cosy evening of shiraz and roses in front of an expensive fireplace and looks so damn fine in a tux it almost hijacks my panic.Almost. “Hundred bucks says everyone will laugh at me. Or worse yet, nothing will sell.” Not that I care about the money. I just want someone to love my work enough to pay for it.

Cole flashes his dimple and holds out a hand. “You’re on. But fair warning, I intend to collect my winnings in more unconventional ways.”

As he raises a suggestive brow, I press my thighs together.

Oh hell yes.

“We have a deal.” I surrender my hand, which Cole promptly shakes, only he doesn’t let go. Rather, he leans across the centre console to whisper in my ear.

“That dress is insanely sexy.” The gravelly words zing between my legs, and his hot breath tickles my neck. He sure knows how to distract a girl, I’ll give him that, but now isn’t the time.

I retrieve my hand, nixing the temptation to climb across his lap, then I douse the ill-timed fire with a bucket of ice. “Shame about Hannah not being able to come.”

The mention of Hannah has the desired effect, and Cole winces, straightening back up in his seat. He cuts the engine. “Ella and late nights equal pandemonium. And there’s probably a ‘break it, you bought it’ policy. I’d rather not go broke or have to dance to ‘Dorothy the Dinosaur’ all night.”

Chuckling, I open my door. “Do you know why God makes toddlers so cute?”

We both climb out, resuming the conversation in the chilly night with frosty words. “Enlighten me,” Cole says.

“So you don’t kill them.”

Cole laughs as he makes his way around the car and up onto the footpath. “Doesn’t the cuteness wear off when you’re surrounded by them every day?”

“Actually, they only get cuter.” I shrug.

“I’ll have to take your word for it. I only have patience for Ella.”

I grin. “That’s pretty normal, and she is pretty special.”

Cole’s face softens like it always does at Ella’s mention. He tucks my hand inside his and lifts it to his mouth, planting a kiss to my knuckles. “That she is.”

Green Bird Gallery is a quaint cottage, tucked back from the main road and surrounded by leafy trees frosted in fairy lights. Laser-cut stainless-steel letters gleam across its vintagered bricks, and the mammoth front windows glow gold from the galleries alight inside.

Cole holds open the ornate entry door and winks at me. “You’ve got this.”

But I’m not so sure I do.

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