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“Oli!” I hear Simon’s scream from downstairs. “Did you check the bathroom yet?”
Oliver turns his head toward the door before shouting. “I found her! She’s in her room.”
“Is she okay?” Simon’s shout comes in through the open door. “Is she hurt? Why isn’t she talking?” His voice grows louder as he approaches my room.
Next second, he barges into the room and makes a beeline for me.
“Rory, are you okay?” he asks, hugging me from behind and pressing me against Oliver’s chest.
“Yeah,” I say confusedly while thoroughly enjoying being pressed between their bodies. “What are you guys so worried about? I’m sure I locked the front door before coming up here.”
“The front door was locked but when we entered the house, we couldn’t find you,” Simon explains, still panting hard. “We kept calling for you but you didn’t answer. Were you in the bathroom or something?”
“She was right here,” Oliver says, hugging me tighter.
“I still don’t understand,” I say in a muffled voice because my face is squished against Oliver’s chest. “I never heard you guys.”
“Our shouting got the neighbors coming out of their homes,” Simon says, finally stepping away.
Oliver continues to hold me, refusing to let go.
Understanding finally dawns on me. “I’m sorry you guys. Everything gets blocked out when I get too focused on a painting. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hear you guys calling for me.”
Oliver finally loosens his hold on me and steps back. Looking calmer, he gazes around the room.
“Were you working on that?” he says, moving closer to the painting.
“Yeah.”
“Are these apricot blossoms?” he asks, leaning close to the canvas to observe the flowers I’d finished painting.
“Yeah. There’s a tree in our backyard that blossoms every spring. It’s the most gorgeous sight and I wait for it to bloom every year.”
“There’s one here too,” says Simon, leaning beside Oliver. “I don’t know much about art but this painting is beautiful, Rory. You’re extremely talented.”
My cheeks warm from their praise. “Thanks. I’m a little rusty right now. Hopefully, I’ll get better if I keep practicing.”
Oliver straightens and turns around to face me. “Of course, you will.” Moving closer, he puts a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “You’re free to paint as much as you want. If you want us to move into a bigger house, we’ll make that happen too.”
I shake my head. “This is great, actually. I’m starting to feel more comfortable here.”
“That’s good.” The look in his sapphire eyes intensifies, sending my heart racing. He leans in slowly, his warm breath fanning my face.
My eyes close as I raise my face to him.
Pure anticipation courses through me as I wait for him to kiss me.
The moment his lips touch mine, I moan out. The kiss is searing, burning away every thought from my head.
His arms come around me, pulling me against his hard chest. Opening my mouth, I invite him in for a deeper kiss.
Oliver takes the cue, letting his tongue sweep in languidly. He takes his time to taste me thoroughly while I cling to his broad shoulders.
Oliver suddenly breaks away. His eyes shine with dark desire as he bends down and sweeps me off my feet in one swift motion.
A gasp escapes me as I hurry to wrap my arms around his neck.
Moving toward the bed, he drops me among the pillows before capturing my lips. His refreshing gingery scent grows stronger, enveloping my senses in it.
