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“Sure, but why?”
“I think I know what to paint for you.”
This woman. Will my love for her ever stop growing?
Probably not.
We head back outside and take our seats again. I gesture at the photo in Abigail’s hands. “Remember how we used to shoot each other with paintballs?”
Dad lets out a chuckle. “Inna shot Cillian on the ass.”
Grandpa lets out a huff. “It was a lucky shot.”
“We should do it again,” Mom mentions. “Abigail, have you played paintball before?”
My woman shakes her head. “No, but it sounds fun.”
“Does tomorrow work for everyone?” Mom asks.
“Hell no, my ass is too old to run away from paintballs,” Grandpa mutters.
“Tomorrow is perfect,” Abigail answers, excitement shining in her eyes.
I lean my head closer to hers. “Still enjoying yourself?”
She nods, a happy smile on her face.
There’s my girl. Welcome back, baby.
I only have today left with Abigail, and I’m seriously contemplating holding her captive on the island.
She’s her old self again, and I worry with her returning to St. Monarch’s she might relapse.
Then there’s the fact that she won’t be by my side.
Christ, I’m going to worry myself to death over her.
I walk into the den, and instantly Abigail mutters, “Don’t look at the painting.”
She’s even turned the easel so the wall’s behind her while she paints. I’m dying to see what she’s working on.
I head outside and take a seat on one of the lounge chairs. From here, I have a perfect view of Abigail.
“This week went by way too fast,” I complain.
“Yeah.” She lets out a sigh while she continues to paint.
“I’m thinking about keeping you captive,” I admit.
Abigail lets out a chuckle. “Hold off on that idea until after Aurora’s wedding. I’m sure when I’m alone at St. Monarch’s, I’ll beg you to kidnap me.”
“Are you looking forward to the wedding?”
She nods, then asks, “Will you be my plus one?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
She chuckles again. “True. It’s three weeks from today.”
