Page 136 of Where We Bloom

“What kind of art?” She’s already excited, those whiskey eyes alight with the idea of a new adventure, and my heart catches.

“Have I told you today how fucking beautiful you are, bumble?”

She presses her hand to my cheek and rubs her thumb over my lower lip. “What kind of art, billionaire?”

“Glass. Have you heard of Kane O’Callaghan?”

“Connor. Ofcourse, I’ve heard of Kane O’Callaghan. Holy shit, there’s a gallery here with his work in it?”

“Aye, he owns the gallery. And he has a new exhibit opening tonight, and we’re his guests.”

Her jaw drops. “I’m sorry, what?”

If I’m not mistaken, her hand starts to tremble in mine. “Hey, it’s okay, angel. He’s a good mate of mine from when we were lads, and he knew I’d be in town. You don’t want to go?”

“Holy fucking shit,” she whispers. “Ilovehis work. I was in Seattle a few years ago and spent three days admiring the glass in the museum dedicated to him there.It has to behardwork. It’s so beautiful. It inspired so much emotion, and it was like it gripped me by the throat and didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to leave.”

A tear slips out of her eye, and I catch it with my fingertip. My girl feels things so fecking deeply.

“A ghrá, I don’t want you to cry.”

“I’m overwhelmed, and that doesn’t happen often.” She inhales, clears her throat, and dabs at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. “I’m fine. Wow, this is fun. You know some cool people, billionaire.”

I see how she’s put on the facade of strength, not wanting to show too much vulnerability right before we get to the gallery, and I’ll give it to her.

No one wants to have tears when they meet someone they admire.

But later, I’m going to hold her close and get her to talk to me.

Miller pulls up in front of the gallery, where some members of the press wait to take photos.

Kane is a big fecking deal, and this is an invitation-only event.

“Jesus,” Billie mutters, those nerves back in place.

“You’re gorgeous and have nothing to worry about,” I remind her.

“You do realize that after this, we’re going to beverypublic, Connor.” She blinks at me, that vulnerability shining through. “Are you okay with that?”

“You’re mine,” I reply and cover her lips with mine. “The sooner the world knows it, the better. Come on, angel, I want to introduce you to my friends.”

She smiles as Miller opens my door, and I climb out, then extend my hand to my girl.

As we walk toward the doors, Simon and Miller flank us, but someone calls out, “Mr. Gallagher! Can we get some shots of the two of you?”

“You okay with that?” I murmur to Billie.

“Of course,” she says, and we stop on the red carpet. Miller and Simon step back two paces, and I wrap my arm around Billie’s back and pose for the cameras.

After thirty seconds, I wave, then lead her the rest of the way inside.

“Well, that was interesting,” she murmurs. “I might want copies of those pictures.”

“I’m sure they’ll show up on social media within the hour, and you can grab them,” Simon says.

No doubt Billie will hear fromher girlsabout that. Apparently, they’ve thoroughly enjoyed all the pictures she’s been sending of us in Ireland. It’s such a beautiful, rugged country, and having Billie in this part of the world has been incredible.

I snatch two flutes of champagne off a tray and offer one to Billie, and we wander around the room, admiring the magnificent works of art on display.

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