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Mamá worked in intensely dark, cool colors, but my palette is the exact opposite. Eye popping, warm yellows and beaming orange-reds are the spectrum I prefer. I’ve been experimenting with a technique of adding glaze and baking them to create a thick, glassy coating.
Shedding my dress, I go to the bathroom attached to my room and quickly shower. Restoring my panties and pulling on a long tee, I crawl into my bed, memories of Deacon humming under my skin.
A motorcycle ride, no panties, my arms around his waist, my body pressed against his… It’s a potent aphrodisiac. I was practically coming at his first kiss, his first touch. After all the weeks of separation, I couldn’t get enough of him. I thought, This is what freedom feels like—this glorious man in my arms. This is pure joy.
My phone buzzes under my pillow and I pull it out to see his text. Home… dreaming of your beautiful smile, soft lips…
Smiling, I slide my finger over the face. Dreaming of your ethereal eyes.
Ethereal… Good one.
I exhale a laugh as I tap my reply. Thank you for rescuing me, handsome prince.
Goodnight, beautiful Angel.
Closing my eyes, I drift into a relaxed sleep, the scent of Deacon in my hair, the memory of his kiss warming my lips. Dreams of my mother’s place float in my mind, the trees full of dark green leaves, the black-gray mountains rising in the distance, the little cottages dotted along the slopes… so beautiful, so colorful. I long to take him there, to live there with my love in the place where I knew so much love.
It’s going to work out.
It’s got to.
“Anybody home?” Valeria’s voice echoes through the house, and I hear the scuffing of little feet on the stone stairs.
“Carmie?” Sofia’s voice bounces off the stone walls of the second-floor hall.
Rolling onto my back, I groan, rubbing my eyes and trying to hold onto the last remnants of a dream. I was wrapped in Deacon’s arms, lying in a warm blanket in my mother’s home.
“Carmie!” She grows more insistent, her tone touched with worry.
“In here Soph!” I throw the blanket back and walk over to pull on my black yoga pants.
Swift scuffling precedes the rattling of my doorknob. I’ve just dropped a long-sleeved tee over my head as she opens the door. She’s dressed in purple leggings and a white shirt with a mermaid on the front. On top of all of it is a green, purple, and white tulle skirt.
Her dark brown hair is up in two ponytails that hang in ringlets on each side of her head. She’s the cutest thing. Wide brown eyes meet mine before looking around my impressive new bedroom. It’s twice the size of the one I had at her house.
She walks in slowly. “Is Uncle Beto a king?”
“He thinks he is.” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice as I go into the attached bathroom to wash my face.
It’s the same beige travertine as the rest of the house, and Sofia is right behind me.
“Does that mean you’re a princess?” She slides an empty drawer open before going to the next empty one. Looking up at me, her nose wrinkles. “You don’t have any stuff.”
“You know what that means?” I pull a knock-off brand Neutrogena wipe from a package.
“You need to go to the store.” She nods, rolling her eyes like, duh.
“It means I’m just the same as I always was.” I tap her nose lightly, tossing the wipe into the trash can under the sink. “Only the house has changed.”
She walks into my bedroom again and climbs onto my big bed. “It’s a nice house.”
“It’s just a house.” I know as well as anyone how fast circumstances change.
She’s perched on my bed thinking, her cute little head tilted to the side. “But don’t you like Uncle Beto?”
“I want to like him.” Walking into the room, I hold out my arms and she stands so I can bounce her onto my hip.
“Don’t you have to like him? Cause he’s your brother?” She shakes her head when she talks, causing her ponytails to sway.
