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“That’s Roey’s gig. He’s run it for several years, and it pays great. We don’t hurt people. We find them. They are just not your regular folks.”
“You know how to fight,” I state.
“Yeah.”
“I know that.” I give him a pretend side-eye. “I saw you kick Chad’s ass.”
He freezes, meeting my smiling gaze.
“You were so… bad-ass.” My chest swells with pride for him.
“He’s an asshole.”
“He’s gone. Thank you for that. You should’ve punched him right in front of everyone.”
“Physical force doesn’t solve everything.”
Yeah, that’s my Jace.
I study him at dinner on the terrace, his careful glances and soft smiles as if he’s afraid to anger me.
The sun is setting, and it’s him and I, always him and I that makes me the most peaceful, even after the fight we had today.
When I bring up my canceled order, Jace only smiles.
“Why are you so upset about it?” he asks, putting the leftovers away. “Listen, come here.”
He leads me to my room, stopping in front of the painting he cleaned up.
“If they don’t want it, sell it to someone else. It’s beautiful.”
I shake my head. “With other people’s faces?”
“Change them.” He steps behind me and wraps one arm around my waist, pointing his forefinger at the painting like he’s trying to show me something I don’t notice. “Paint a veil on this face. Paint a designer face mask and sunglasses over this one. It’sModern Gothic, right?”
“Yes, I can do that.” A smile spreads on my lips at the realization.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kisses my cheek and sets his chin on my shoulder, his embrace tightening. “Maybe you can add designer fabric print and drones in the sky.”
I nod. It’ll only take me a day of extra work, but I can do new gothic, yes.
“Dog tags on the ground,” I add, visualizing the changes I’ll make.
“And”—he presses a kiss to my temple— “auction it off to your social media fans or something. You’ll make way more than what your clients owe you. Rub it in their faces. Or donate it to the local community center for auction. People will love you for that. They’ll spread the word.”
Jace is my inspiration in everything. It’s hard to grasp how a person you met only several months ago can become your closest friend, muse, and… lover. Well, not yet, but now I’m determined.
“Movie?” he asks.
“I’d love to.” I turn to Pushkin, who sits in the doorway and happily stares at us. “Hey, cute muffin, wanna watch a movie?”
“Hey, Lu?”
I turn to look at Jace, and we both burst out laughing because we know the words coming next. Our smiles meet in a kiss.
