Page 66 of The Heart of a Painter (As I Am 1)

“Thank you, Erin.” She closed her eyes briefly, hiding the pain in her eyes. “We—both his dad and I—intend to be worthy of his trust and love, however long it takes.”

“That’sall he wants, underneath his tough exterior. He always wanted your love.”

She flipped her hand and held me tight for afleeting moment. “Iknow he did.”

“Ilove this drawing he made.” Iattempted to lighten the mood, gesturing to one of Thomas’sartworks, ablack and white picture on the kitchen wall. “These two identical boys hugging each other, that’sso cute.”

She grimaced, pulling her hand from mine. “Yes, Ithink he did this when he turned ten, something like that. It was agift for us, like so many other works of his. We avoided hanging it until the longing for him became as unbearable as looking at this picture.”

Her words made me double back and inspect the drawing, hoping to find answers and then berating myself for backing off from my promise to Thomas. “He was talented from such ayoung age.”

“Iwish Icould say that Ihad ahand in it.” She shifted in her seat. “It’sahard subject for me, but Ifailed him as amother. Thomas had to teach himself to paint and draw, and he basically grew up on his own. We didn’teven have ananny because Inever cared to have anyone else around the house.”

“Deborah…” Ibrushed alock of hair behind my ear, sensing the conversation was again sliding into too personal areas. Deborah and Thomas and this entire family’sfragile state had to be handled with great care. “I’maware of your family history in very broad strokes, nothing too specific. Thomas isn’tcomfortable dealing with this trauma yet; it’shis process, and if he does decide to share it, I’ll be there for him and maybe the four of us could find closure, together. For now though, Ican’tpry. Ihope you understand.”

“Ido, and I’dlike that.” She sniffed, the corners of her watery eyes crinkling. “He’slucky to have loyal people in his life like you and Zach. When he moved away and changed his phone number and email address, we had no way of contacting him, even when we wanted to beg for his forgiveness. Zach consoled us, promised he was okay, but never betrayed Thomas’strust.”

This new insight about Zach, the goofy, fun friend Iliked, surprised me. His love for Thomas ran far deeper than having abuddy to hang out with; it was the closest thing to areal brother.

“You know, Ilove that he’snot his silent self around you,” she said apropos of nothing. “Isee it in his eyes. He adores you. It gives me ashimmer of hope that the damage his father and Idid is repairable.”

Deborah’ssilent tears of remorse pained me, and Iplucked atissue from abox nearby and offered it to her. “You all love each other, and Ibelieve we’ll mend this. Ihave faith.”

“Ilike you, Erin. Isee why Thomas does too.” She wiped her cheeks, hugged me, and slipped off the stool. “And I’mexcited to start baking together. Isay we cut the savory part of the meal short and put the hard work into the pastries. What do you think?”

“Ithink Ilove this idea.” Iaccepted the cream-colored apron she handed me and tied it behind my back, my hands skimming over the appliances, eager to see what Deborah had planned for us, for Thomas.

“Happy birthday!” Ipractically ran down the stairs to meet Thomas, who was leaning nonchalantly on his Porsche, alazy smile penetrating through his full beard, his ankles crossed and eyes roaming over my body.

“Hey, beautiful.” He took my hand as Iapproached him and kissed the inside of my wrist.

The butterflies in my stomach batted their blue and green and yellow wings, uncontrolled, unchecked, ecstatic. Imissed Thomas as if we hadn’tseen each other for weeks, when in reality we woke up together the same morning before Iattended my internship and he went off to teach.

“You look amazing,” he added, perusing my choice of outfit. The polka dot shirt, leopard midi skirt, and high faux leather boots would appear too artist chic for anyone else. Anyone other than Thomas, whose eyes burned with sincerity.

And as cute as Imight’ve looked, Thomas smoldered in his dark gray suit. The man wore suits like amale model, his broad shoulders fitting into the jacket as magnificently as his lean hips were outlined in his pants.

When Irecovered from the impact of what seeing him in asuit caused me, my sense of smell kicked in and Thomas’sfamiliar cologne—the intoxicating one Iassociated only with him—lingered in the thick, winter air between us. My nose was drawn to where he left the top button of his pristine white shirt open, sniffing the area around his collarbone.

“What are you doing?” Alaughter sputtered from his lips, his hands rummaging in my hair.

“Enjoying myself.” Iraised ahand to curl my fingers around the back of his neck and drew him even closer. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business though.” He put some distance between us and pressed his lips to my forehead, scorching the area, leaving atiny delightful burn mark.

His gaze grew dark when he drew back, lowering it to meet mine and then, as Istood there on the pavement, helpless and completely his, he leaned in to kiss me. Iwanted him to, my thighs clenched from how much Iwanted him to, but we couldn’t. Not when we had dinner plans instead of bed plans.

Even with his hands on my cheeks, Imanaged to turn my head to the side, lifting my chin high. “One peck—that’sall you’re allowed or we’ll be late.”

“Idon’tcare if we’re late or not.” He leaned in again and didn’tplan to take no for an answer, placing asoft kiss on my cheek. “It’smy birthday. Iget to decide.”

“Ithought you didn’twant to celebrate it.” My head swiveled back at the casual tone he mentioned his birthday. It resulted in our lips grazing one another’s, which resulted in astraight bolt of fire that ran from my lips to my core.

“What if Ichanged my mind?” he asked in ahusky voice, poking my nose with his.

Thomas held me captive, docile, and unable to deny him any longer. If he’dtaken me there on the street, most likely Iwouldn’thave done it with much resistance.

“Your mom…” The memory of Deborah and her anticipation from yesterday were what shook me from the heavy lust that settled in my throat. “Your parents, they’re waiting. Later. We’ll have alot of bed time later.”

---