Page 81 of Outside the Lines

What had been so dark and horrible all those months ago had been transformed into something so beautiful it made my skin ache. My work, yes, but Simon’s too. He’d taken anger and sorrow and hope and crafted it all into love on top of love.

Our dragon was now a brilliantly painted masterpiece, complete with intricate lines of gold between the scales. It launched itself into the sky on iridescent wings that shimmered in the light and seemed to move as I did. Scales rippled. Eyes gleamed. Every inch was incredible.

Every bit of the detail I’d sculpted was there—and more. So much more.

I was so damn grateful no one else was home, because I dropped the grocery bag, cracking half the eggs I’d bought, and I’d broke down and cried like a baby. Tears down my face and everything. I was still misty-eyed when Simon had come home.

He circled me in his arms, pulling me back against his very solid body. “You like it?”

“Of course I do.” I leaned into his heat.

“Lydia painted the base.” Warm words spoken into my hair.

Even better. “It’s perfection,” I said. “Utterly.”

He kissed the side of my neck. “It’sus.”

I closed my eyes and in that moment, I was the one soaring into the air. “It sure is.”