Page 126 of Sparking Sara

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Brett says, righting the painting and running after Leo.

“Don’t be, maybe you’ve got an artist in the making,” I say. I sit down by Leo’s side and grab another brush, pretending to make my own masterpiece next to his.

Leo likes that and crawls into my lap as we both ‘paint’ on the wall.

For the rest of the night, Leo doesn’t leave my side.

“He’s really taken to you,” Brett says. “I’m surprised. He’s usually wary of strangers, women especially. I think it’s because his mom was so … Well, never mind. Anyway, the only other woman he likes is his nanny.”

I feel like there’s a story there and I plan to ask Denver about it later.

“Well, you can bring him over anytime. He’s amazing.”

“We might just take you up on that,” Brett says, watching me play with his son.

You hate kids.I hear Oliver’s voice in my head.

I shake away the thought, knowing it’s just another one of his lies. “He’s wrong,” I whisper to Leo.

Leo puckers his mouth like he wants a kiss. I happily oblige.

~ ~ ~

Denver and I lie in bed in post-coital bliss, our bodies slick with sweat as we try to control our breathing.

He leans on an elbow, studying me. “Do you want kids?” he asks.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Two days together and you’re asking me this?”

“I … I …” He looks flustered.

“I’m kidding, Denver. You can ask me anything. Yes, someday I want kids. Lots of them.”

His lips curve up into a smile. “Now just how many are we talking about?”

I shrug. “I was an only child, and while my childhood was great, I always longed for siblings. So I’m thinking more than one, less than six. Does that scare you away?”

He pulls me closer. “Nothing could scare me away from you. I told you, you’re my future. And if you don’t believe me—I have video proof.”

“Thank you for what you did today. The studio.”

“You’re welcome.” He grabs my hands, bringing them to his lips. “These hands are talented. They shouldn’t have to go a day without painting.”

I wiggle out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“To paint.”

Denver looks at the clock. “Now? It’s after midnight.”

“Something you need to learn about artists is that they paint when they are inspired.”

He sits up, a look of pride overtaking his features. “Inspired?” A smug smile creeps up his face. “Are you saying I inspire you, sweetheart?”

I throw my pillow at him. “Don’t get cocky.”

“Maybe it was my cock that inspired you.”

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