Page 103 of Sparking Sara

Oliver’s phone rings. I glance over to see whose calling. The caller ID reads: Benny.

He curses under his breath before he answers the phone. He kisses me on the head and goes to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. A minute later, he emerges, grabbing his wallet off the front table. “I have to go out for a bit.”

“Who’s Benny?” I ask. “Is that the same Ben who called you a few weeks ago? Is he your boss or something?”

“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with, luv.”

“But you look upset,” I say.

He shakes his head. “It’s just work stuff. I won’t be long.”

I realize I don’t really know all that much about what Oliver does. I know he’s an art dealer, but he doesn’t like to talk about himself. And it dawns on me that I know more about the firefighter who saved me than my own fiancé.

~ ~ ~

Later, when Oliver and I are settling into bed, he snuggles close to me, his front to my back. I stiffen for a second before I relax into him. He gently rubs my arm. After a minute, I can feel his erection poking me in the back side.

Kokomo curls up by my stomach. Then he works his way up to my chest, and then into the crook of my neck. He’s practically smothering me, almost like he’s vying for my attention now that Ollie is in the bed with us.

It’s dark in the bedroom, and Kokomo is restless. I almost think that if I could see into his eyes, he’d be staring at me. And I’d feel guilty because sometimes when I look into Kokomo’s eyes, it’s like looking into Denver’s. And I’d feel guilty that Ollie’s arm is around me.

Oliver falls asleep before I do, and I find myself inching away. Then I fall asleep and dream of Denver’s grey eyes. It’s the same pair of grey eyes I dream of every night. It’s like his eyes are looking into my soul, protecting me.

Suddenly, I awaken and sneak out of bed to my studio, the desire to paint overtaking my need for sleep.

Chapter Twenty-six

“No cheating,” Denver says.

I give him my best scolding look. “You can’t cheat at Dominoes,” I say.

“You can if you have tiles up your sleeve.”

I wave my arms in the air, showing him that nothing falls out of my sleeves. “Satisfied now? You should know by now that I’m not a cheater.”

His eyes catch mine and I realize what I said. We both stare at each other, no doubt thinking of the double entendre of my words.

“Um … at least I’m not now,” I say, looking away. “I don’t know if I cheated at Dominoes before. But I’d like to think I was an honest person.”

“Lydia told me the two of you used to date men for sport,” he says out of nowhere.

I almost spit out my drink of lemonade. I’m surprised by his crassness. I’ve never seen him so forward. It’s almost like he’s jealous of my past. Or maybe my present.

“You make it sound like I was a slut.”

He runs a finger along the side of his glass, wiping the condensation. “Were you?”

“Obviously not if I had a long-term boyfriend,” I say.

“But three years ago, back when you can last remember, were you then?”

I look down and play with a few of my domino tiles. “I wouldn’t say I was a slut. Lydia and I liked to go on double dates. But it’s not like I slept with all of them.”

“But you slept withsomeof them,” he says, blowing out a sigh.

“I suppose I did. But as far as I know, I was always responsible about it.”

“Right. Because you hate kids.”

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