Chapter 9
Dante hadn’t seen his troublesome brother for several days. Of course, they’d had seventy-two-hour shifts, and after that, he’d spent a lot of time with Mallory. That’s what happened when people fell in love. They spent every spare minute together. He’d even been sleeping at her town house when he wasn’t at the station.
To her excitement and horror, the gallery owner had loved her work when she’d stopped by to show it to her. Now her big gallery show was coming up, and she was terrified. Despite assurances to the contrary, Dante was terrified for her, knowing she could turn into a monkey at any moment. It seemed to be her way of escaping stressful situations.
In her basement studio, Mallory lifted a heavy canvas and walked to the stairs. Before she carried it up and out to her car, she stopped. “Dante, I’m not sure I can go through with this.”
Dante set down the two canvases he was carrying and leaned them carefully against a concrete post. He walked over to her, took the canvas out of her hands, and placed it next to the others, then he braced her with his hands on her arms and looked her straight in the eyes.
“I know you’re scared. You don’t need to be. I’ll be right there with you, and I won’t leave your side. No matter what.”
She sagged. “I know. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even consider this. Who wants a monkey bouncing around their gallery?”
Dante enfolded her in his arms. “If I had a gallery, and you were the monkey, I’d want exactly that. What better way to attract attention?”
She laughed. “You’re nuts.”
“Maybe. But I’m only telling the truth when I say you can handle it. You’ve got this, honey.”
They shared a reassuring kiss and returned to the task at hand.
Mallory lifted her canvas again and shuffled. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…” She made thechugga-chugga-choo-choosound of a train.
“Now who’s a nut?” Dante chuckled.
Mallory looked over her shoulder and grinned as she preceded him up the stairs.
The large canvases wouldn’t fit in Dante’s car, so he’d borrowed a van from one of his firefighter buddies. He’d actually trusted the guy to take care of Joanna while they traded vehicles.
As soon as they had the paintings draped in clean sheets and stabilized in the back of the van, they went back for more. They repeated the procedure three times, loading the van with nine paintings total. When everything was ready to go, Mallory stood before the open van doors, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands in prayer. Dante sensed the need for some respectful silence, so he simply waited beside her.
When she opened her eyes, he saw a sparkle in them. She seemed happy—not that she hadn’t been—but he could tell there was a sense of accomplishment just by making it this far.
“I’m proud of you, Mal.”
She smiled. “I’m kinda proud of me too.”
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. I guess. No. No, I mean yes! I’m ready!”
“That’s my girl.” He closed the van doors and strode to the driver’s side while Mallory made her way to the passenger side. They both hopped in, and she slid right across the bench seat. Sitting right next to him, she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Do you mind if I’m this close while you drive?”
“Not at all. I’ll have to keep both hands on the wheel, despite my wanting to put one of them somewhere else.” He glanced at her crotch.
She laughed. “Stop it. You wouldn’t do that, and you know it.”
Had he said that to any woman before they’d become so intimate, he’d probably have had his face slapped. As it was, her face turned pink, but she was grinning from ear to ear. She kissed his cheek. “Let’s go, handsome.”
Dante pulled away from the curb, and as soon as he was on a straightaway, he rested his hand on her bare knee. She had taken to wearing short dresses or tunics rather than skirts with blouses…just in case she wound up exposed after shifting back. The dress she wore today was adorable. It was sleeveless with some kind of artsy splashes of color that were vaguely reminiscent of flowers. She had sweated over what she was going to wear for days.
As if she’d read his mind, she glanced down at her dress. “Did I wear the right thing? It’s not very sophisticated.”
“I was just thinking about how adorable you look.”
“Oh no! I don’t want to look adorable. I want to look sophisticated.”
