Page 138 of Sparking Sara

“It’s not a problem. We can stop by the townhouse on the way to the gallery so you can change.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I really don’t want to make us late, but I can’t show up looking like this.”

“Are you kidding, Denver? You just saved a man’s life. I’ll be late for that any day of the week. Come on,” I say, pulling him in the direction of the foster home. “I can’t wait to tell Joey what his Uncle Den just did.”

He furrows his brows at me. “Why do you call me that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. You two get along so well it’s almost like you’re family.”

He cocks his head to the side and studies me.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes off my question. “Nothing, let’s go. Joey is waiting.”

When we get to the house, we watch all the kids open the new toys we brought with us. Then I sit back and appraise Denver as he interacts with Joey. I’ve never seen a man without children be so comfortable around a child. It makes me think of one of the paintings that will be on display tonight. It’s a surprise for Denver. He’s not seen it yet and I can’t wait to show it to him.

Before we leave, Joey crawls up into my lap and looks up at me with his gorgeous blue eyes. I’m happy he’s finally taken to me. He didn’t have the instant connection with me that he had with Denver. But the way he’s looking at me right now—it’s like he knows me. It’s like hetrustsme.

“We’d better head out,” Denver says hesitantly. I can tell he doesn’t want to leave. I think he shares some kind of kinship with the kids here because they’re all orphans.

Ishare a kinship with them because they were the ones left behind.

A few miles away is the new apartment we’re renovating on Fifth Avenue, and by we—I meanwe. Well, we’ve had some help with the new cabinets and the plumbing, but Denver has taken this on as a project and it’s been fun to see something come together that we’ve both had a hand in.

Over the last few weeks, the apartment has been transformed from an old, dilapidated dump into a modern three-bedroom oasis. Denver insisted on finding a fixer-upper, that way he could contribute more towards the cost of the place and put in some sweat equity.

I’m so excited to be able to move in next month. It’ll be a whole new start for me. For us.

He walks around the room that is to be my studio. “I can’t wait to see what you create in here,” he says.

We take a look at the third bedroom across the hall. “You can keep your guitar in here,” I say. “And maybe we could find a desk and a couple of comfy chairs. Or, if you want, we could get some exercise equipment and make it a home gym.”

He studies the room. “I don’t know. The building has a state-of-the-art gym. I’m not sure we should waste the room on something we already have.”

“Whatever you want, Uncle Den.”

He runs a thoughtful hand along one of the newly painted walls.

“Denver?” I ask, wondering where he went off to for a second.

He swats my behind and I squeal as he chases me into the master bedroom. “I can’t wait to have you in here,” he says.

“I can’t wait to have you ineveryroom,” I say, pulling him against me until his lips capture mine.

I feel his growing erection and it has my insides stirring. I moan my appreciation into his mouth.

“Woman, you’re insatiable,” he says. “Don’t we have someplace to be?”

I shrug, running a finger under the waistband of his pants. “Maybe we could just stay here and christen the new place.”

He steps out of my reach. “Not a chance. I’m getting you to that showing if it’s the last thing I do.”

I let out a long sigh. “Fine. Let’s go get you some new trousers, then.”

Thirty minutes later, after Denver is looking dashing in a fresh pair of pants, a cab drops us off at the gallery.

“I told you I’d get us here in time,” Denver says. “And look, we have fifteen minutes to spare. It’s not even open yet.”

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