Page 67 of First Comes Marriage

Sabrina glanced up from the clay, meeting Sebastian’s eyes long enough to clock the challenge lingering there.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asked.

“Being self-employed has its perks.”

He braced his hands on the worktable behind him, affecting a casual pose that belied the tension in his jaw, and Sabrina had the distinct impression that he was a predator toying with his prey, coiled anticipatory strength waiting for the most opportune moment to pounce. And there was that fizzy, shaken up feeling again, coursing through her limbs and gathering in a deep ache between her legs.

Sabrina began shaping the clay, keeping her eyes on her work. “Did you know Tessa painted a mural in the baby’s room?” she asked, eager for a distraction from the fact that he was watching her with those ice blue eyes.

“No.”

Some distraction.

“She told me all about it at the carnival. One whole wall is some kind of fairytale forest theme. Kyla helped. And her friends Jo and Molly too. Jo’s the one we’re having the party for. Tessa found a picture in a children’s book and they painted it on the wall. Life size trees and fairies and a unicorn. Well, I guess who knows if the fairies and unicorn are life size, right? Since they’re not real. I mean, the painting’s real. You know what I mean.”

“Oh, yeah. I vaguely remember Jamie talking about that.”

“She showed me a picture. It looks incredible. That baby is going to be so lucky. To have a mom who’s that artistic.”

Baz’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. When he spoke, she got the sense that he was picking his words carefully, almost as though he wasn’t sure they were what he actually wanted to say. “Is that something you would want someday?”

“I can’t paint. Not like that. Not trees and fairies and a whole freakin’ unicorn. Glazing pottery is as far as my painting skills go. And what if you painted a forest and later you wished it was a castle or a beach or a jungle? I guess a jungle is a kind of forest. But you wouldn’t put unicorns in a jungle. Or fairies. Not that fairies couldn’t be in a jungle if they wanted to be. But it doesn’t seem like a fairy place. Jungles, I mean.” She hazarded a glance and found herself unable to look away from him as she cataloged the deep crease between his brows, the intensity of his focus on her. Her mouth was suddenly dry when she asked. “Is that something you want?”

“A mural?” he asked with an arch of his eyebrow. She shrugged. He scraped his hand over his face and did that word-picking thing again. “Maybe someday. With the right person.”

She forced a chuckle that felt wrong even to her own ears. Of course he wanted murals someday—dark-haired, blue-eyed murals. Why shouldn’t he?

“Right, you wouldn’t want to do something as permanent as paint a mural with the wrong person. You could end up with purple trees or—or—or a unicorn without a horn. Which I guess is basically a horse.”

“Why are you doing your nervous babbling thing?” he asked.

“My what? I’m not babbling.”

“You are.” He pushed off from the worktable and moved towards her. “What’s making you nervous? Me or the conversation?”

“I’m not nervous talking about murals,” she scoffed.As if that’s what we were actually talking about.

“So, it’s me, then.”

She could feel him moving behind her, the heat of his eyes on her back. “I’m not nervous. I’m just not used to someone watching me when I’m…sculpting.”

“You teach classes. I’d think you’d be quite used to being watched.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because my clients are sculpting too. Not watching me work.”

She heard the scrape of metal across the tile floor as Sebastian pulled a chair up behind her stool.

Please drop it. Please pretend with me for a little longer.

When he sat, his knees bracketed her hips. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck and she nearly destroyed the clay she’d been carefully shaping as electricity sparked across her skin.

“I like watching you,” he said in that low, resonant way she could feel in her bones. Another kiss, more electricity. “But if you want me to go, I will.”

“No. Stay.”

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