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“Yes. Do you know when?”
I giggle. “Yes. I do.” But that’s all I say, a huge smile on my face.
I’m going to have something from Merrick. Something tangible to meld the two of us for the rest of our lives.
And I can’t fucking quit smiling even though I know I shouldn’t be.
“Can I still fly?”
The doctor eyes me and then slowly nods his head. “It’s not a fantastic idea while you’re still getting sick but you can still fly. Just make sure that you have seasick bags.”
I giggle like that’s the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard. He shoots me a sharp look but I don’t bother saying a word.
Merrick’s baby. I’m having his baby. I touch my belly and can’t stop smiling. Our baby is in my belly. We made love one time and I am having his baby. Surely, that says something.
Besides that I’m really fertile or he’s a fucking stallion.
“I’m gonna give you this and you can fill it when you’re released. We’re gonna keep you overnight just to keep an eye o you.”
I nod my head. There’s no rush.
Hopefully, I can explain all of this and Merrick forgives me.
Because I can’t stop loving him. And we’re having a baby.
CHAPTER8
Merrick
The gallery is full of people and they’re all standing around talking like they actually know what the hell they’re talking about. They don’t know shit.
But a lot of them like my painting and it’s got my skin itching like someone’s peeling my skin off with a bristle brush.
I can’t look at her with all these people around. I’m too exposed. I shouldn’t have come. Shouldn’t have entered my painting. Her painting.
I move away from it when Booker catches me growling at some idiot who’s staring at my woman.
“Hey, settle down. It’s just a painting. It’s not like he’s staring at your woman.” He takes a sip of water. “Although she does look very real.”
“You’re not helping,” I snarl.
The other day at the boat parade, I tried to paint again. But all I kept seeing in front of me was Onyx. Her pretty smile and then those damn tears in her eyes.
He sighs. “I wish I could help you find her. But without a name?”
I nod and sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay here.”
“Just relax. Why don’t you go out to the balcony? Get some fresh air?”
The show is being held in the estate of Waldo Wright. He’s gone but the city gets to use it when they need a fancy-schmancy place to really get the rich people in.
“You’ve had several offers to buy the painting.” The woman running the show grins at me and holds up a bunch of little slips of paper. Which I take from her and stuff in my drink without even looking at them
“It’s not for sale.”
Her blond brow lifts. “So I see.”
Then I walk away and out the door, needing some space and time to myself.
