Page 64 of Unexpected Complication

“And paint. I’m not any good, but it helps pass the time.”

I sat up, flipping open the cover. For a few moments, the room was quiet aside from the turn of a page and Skylar’s nervous breathing. I stared in wonder at her sketches. The detail and shading. There was one watercolor. A scene from the window, plus additions of her imagination. The snow glistening in the sun. Children playing. A dog in the snow. Trees all around. Two figures on the porch, watching them.

I turned to her, meeting her anxious gaze. “Kitten, these are amazing. You are incredibly talented.”

She colored prettily, looking unsure.

“Is this us?” I asked quietly, tapping the figures on the porch.

“Yes.”

I traced the little figures and the dog. “Our future?” I asked.

“I hope so.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked to sketch or paint?”

“I painted a lot when my dad was ill. I sold pieces at the local arts and crafts place. It helped with the bills. I lost everything when I was robbed and was never able to replace them,” she explained. “I was sketching a little something, and Sean saw it. I told him how much I enjoyed it. He brought me all the stuff.”

I was grateful to Sean for seeing. Noticing. Giving her back something she loved.

“Paint more for me.”

“I will.”

I began to shut the book when a loose piece of the heavy paper fell out. I grabbed it before it could hit the floor and stared at it in shock.

It was a drawing of me. A me I hadn’t seen in years. I looked younger, happier. Content. I was smiling, the sketch appearing is if I was looking right at Skylar as she drew it.

“How?” I asked.

“That’s what you look like now when you look at me,” she whispered.

“You are a wonder,” I murmured. “And if that is what I look like, then you’re a miracle worker as well. That’s not what I see when I look in the mirror.”

She cupped my cheek. “You’re looking for Tony. All I see is Cian.” She smiled softly. “My Cian.”

“I am yours,” I agreed. “As long as you want me.”

“Then plan on me being with you for the next hundred years.”

I pulled her close and kissed her after placing the pad back on the table.

A hundred years.

I was good with that.

She sighed. “You’re not staying, are you?”

“No, I have to go back—I can be late, the manwhore I am, but I have to return tonight.”

A small giggle escaped her lips, and I pressed a kiss to her head, grateful that Tony had been exactly that. Sex had been his second-favorite release after killing people. “I’ll be gone for a while this time, Skylar. Longer than a few days.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to turn up the heat. I need to stay close and visible and be as…helpful as I can be.” I played with the edge of the blanket, my fingers moving restlessly. “I have to figure out who else is working against Orson. I want us to work together.”

“Can you?”