Page 45 of Sawyer
“Despite our first meeting?” She batted her eyelashes. “If this continues—and I hope it does—we might need to come up with a better story about how we met. Also, I hope this won’t ruin the moment, but I’m so damn happy we can talk about things besides art. Sometimes that’s all the people around me want to talk about. Trust me when I say I’d still be into you if you were a taxidermist. That’s what I told your friends when we talked at the gallery.”
All of Paris’ golden light seemed to fill him up then as he laughed heartily. “And I’d be into you even if you were a…kindergarten teacher.”
“Hey, I’m really good with kids.” She grinned broadly. “We understand each other.”
“That’s no surprise. I doubt there are many things you aren’t good at.”
She made a soft sound, one of old hurt, and he was sorry for it. “Accepting that I can’t be good at everything is one of my biggest accomplishments as a human being so far. What’s yours?”
He didn’t want to bring up any bad feelings for her so he only shook his head. “Do you want to walk a little more or stay here and take in the city?”
“Hey!” She framed his face with her hands. “After tonight, I hope you know you can talk about yourself and your experiences without reflecting on me. I’m not that kind of person. So tell me what you were afraid to say.”
She was too smart by half, which was one of the things he liked best about her. “I was going to say that my biggestaccomplishment is picking up a paintbrush again and again and again. Not giving up on myself or my art. Even though there are days when I wish I’d been born with a different talent. Or maybe no talent at all.”
Her arms twined around his neck. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? And do I look sad about it? Check out this smile. This is me being happy for you because it takes guts to do what you do, and good for you. Also, that makes you totally an Aquarius.”
His laughter was soft. “I might need to look up a detailed description since that’s come up twice in one night. But later… Right now, I want to hold you in my arms and feel the heart of Paris. Because it’s all around us.”
“Yes, it is.” She leaned in closer, her head on his chest. “And inside us, because only the ones who truly love Paris allow that. Once she’s inside, really good things happen. I’m convinced it’s the real reason I met you.”
She fell silent. So did he, thinking about her last comment. He had let Paris inside him. From that first visit. He and his roommates always said Paris brought out the best in them. Made everything seem possible.
He hoped that feeling would never end.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
The kitchen was packed with his roommates the next morning—even Madison and Thea, who didn’t live there anymore.
He’d thought they’d gang up on him at Sunday dinner. But no… They were there for a recap of his night with Phoebe.
Their expectant faces had Sawyer gesturing to his robe as Pierre gave a loud squawk from his perch. “Really? This early? I’m barely awake.”
“I’ll make you a café, Sawyer,” Thea said, dusting flour off her hands and rushing over to the coffee machine. “We can’t wait to hear about your date!”
“We’re behind on two dates actually.” Dean shoved off the barstool and swung an arm around Sawyer. He led him to the kitchen island, then pushed him onto a stool next to Brooke. “Late night, huh? Must have gone well.”
Brooke shoved a croissant at him. “You can tell us all about it while you have yourpetit-déjeuner.”
He tore off the end and bit in, groaning at the flavor. Thea’s croissants were mood altering. “It went great. We didthe date thing. You know…” No way he was mentioning how deep and intense the sharing part of the date had gotten.
“Terrific.” Madison extended her arm to Pierre, who flew to her. “Color me relieved. Since my cleaver isn’t needed, I’m heading to the restaurant. I have some holiday specials to test. See you guys later for dinner.”
No one commented on how early it was or her rapid departure. Then again, no one had heard a word about how her night out dancing had gone either.
Kyle’s gaze followed her as she left the room before he shifted it to Sawyer. “When are you seeing her again?”
“We’re going to meet during one of my painting breaks.” He ripped off another section. “I started on another painting when I got home and painted until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”
“That explains the circles under them,” Brooke remarked as Thea slid a café in front of him with a smile. “When I saw you, I worried something bad had happened.”
“Only the unstoppable force of artistic genius,” Dean exclaimed, slapping him on the back. “Looks good on you, Doc.”
Even in an old bathrobe with bags under his eyes? That was probably his inner glow from being around Phoebe, who had inspired yet another painting. The nightscape of couples had captivated him. Maybe it was the street musician or the fact that he’d removed his glasses finally to kiss her again, but when he’d looked up, the pairs had seemed to be waltzing around them. He planned to title itThe Waltz of Love.With Phoebe standing there on the edge, waiting for him to arrive and join the dance.
God, he was on a roll. “It feels damn good,” he admitted. “Her. The painting. It’s like the tumblers have all fallen into the right places.”
