Page 27 of Menotte avec toi

“That is fabulous, though I fear I may’ve scared the poor grocery guy.” Her laughter was no longer contained. The naughty kitten lost it. I’m sure imagining the poor guy’s face. “Laugh it up, girlie.” I couldn’t imagine ever truly being angry with her. I’m sure heated arguments were in our future, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe otherwise. But damnit, I had it bad.

“I don’t think my house ever smelled this wonderful. What’re you up to?”

“It’s part of my desire to take care of you. When I’m not here to cook, or for us to cook together,” I smiled at the wonderful thought. Sharing a kitchen and cooking together would be amazing. “I’ve made meals for you. Chicken and rice in the freezer, salads, and pasta dishes. I may’ve gone a bit overboard.”

“I-I can’t believe you did all this for me.” She came around the island and wrapped her arms around me. “I love you, Harper. I know it’s soon, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but maybe someday you will. Or not, but that’s…”

I cut her rambling off with my lips. “I do feel the same. I love you too, Sonnet. So very much.” It felt so fucking good to say those words to her. Like a weight had been lifted. “I was afraid of scaring you off, saying it so soon. But I love you, Sonnet, I really do. When we’re apart, I want us to be together. I want to share everything with you. Take you places I’ve been and loved, share my life with you.”

More adorable giggles. The more I learned about Sonnet, the deeper I fell.

“I’ve been on my own for so long, even when I lived with my uncle. He tried his best, but,” she shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Well, my love, I do. If you allow me to I’ll take care of you, but if it gets to be too much, you must promise to tell me. I don’t want us to fight and talking about everything is the best way to avoid that. We’ll be learning together.” And I was excited beyond words at what lay ahead for us.

“’Kay, but I don’t want to shut my muse out. I get super depressed when she doesn’t talk. Art is my life, my way of expressing emotions and thoughts. My therapy, to be honest.”

“And I love that about you, but maybe the Muse could work on more of a schedule?”Pot, meet kettle.Though I’d already been stepping back from the Domme side ofMenotté. It was like my mind was ahead of me, but it would’ve been nice if it shared why we’d been backing off these last few months.

“We can try. She’s definitely working overtime right now. I’ll be done soon with the art for the club. Maybe we can take a vacation or something then.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. Anywhere in particular you’d like to go first? A number one bucket list destination we could cross off?” We had a club member who was a travel agent both Simon and I had used for trips before. I bet she’d find the best excursions for us.

“Hmm, let me think about it.”

“Good enough. Now, let me fill that grumbling belly of yours.” I whipped up a lemon vinaigrette, chopped up the chicken breasts, and then mixed it all with the greens and plated it. “Voilà, lunch is served.”

“Yum, I could get used to this.”

“Music to my ears because taking care of you is number one on my bucket list.” When we were done, I grabbed our plates and started cleaning up. “What’s left to do on the art for the club?”

“I just need to sign them, order the crating materials, then package and ship them to you.”

“Do you have any canvases to hang in the lobby to sell?” I was ready to contact our handyman to start hanging everything. These were perfect for the club, ideal representations for the live art that took place amongst our clients. Life was sensual and sex was art. Love was art. The more I thought about it the more excited I got.

“I do. Let me see how quickly we can get the crating materials. They usually take a couple of weeks to get here.”

“Do we need to crate them? I mean, can’t they be delivered as is or even wrapped in the sheets? I can call our handyman and have him pick them up and transport them if that helps?”

“Mistress, you paid me for a job, and that bid included proper crating and shipping.”

Glad to hear she honors her contracts, but in this case, that just won’t do. “Not gonna lie, I’m beyond excited to see this exquisite work on display. Can we possibly forgo the crating and just carefully wrap them so he can get them hung?”

“Let me sign them.” Sonnet took off down the hall, seemingly as excited as I now was while I fired off a text to him. Sonnet’s presence would be required when he hung them. Her eye for detail with her work I won’t allow to be silenced. She will pick the placement for each piece.

I finished cleaning up and met her in the studio space. “Almost done. What did he say?”

“He said he can pick them up in the morning and go right to the club. We’ll need you there to handle placement.”

“You want me to choose?”

“I’d not have it any other way. Now, show me the pieces you wish to sell.” Sonnet walked across the space to a door I hadn’t noticed before, took a deep breath, and opened it. “Wow, there has to be fifty canvases in there.”

“Fifty-seven, to be exact. Once upon a time I sold my work, then switched to commission-based pieces only. Hence why I still live where I do. I dunno,” she shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if these pieces were good enough to sell, so I stored them away.”

My breath caught as soon as I flicked the light on. “Kitten, how could you ever second-guess these? They’re wonderful.” Some were a bit more abstract than others, but each was a thought, a moment in time, a memory. Things Sonnet had seen or engaged in or with. “That’s the harbor at sunset.”

“It is. My muse had been silent, so I took a walk. There was an older couple,” she pointed to the park bench where two faceless bodies sat. “They held hands the entire time, watching the sunset. Then they turned, kissed each other, and left. They captured my heart in that moment, and I had to recreate it.”

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