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“I really wish the camera was rolling,” Zane whispered. “Is the camera rolling?”

The cameraman shook his head, and Zane cursed under his breath.

Pointing her perfectly manicured finger at me, Kennedy practically growled, “Who do you think you are?”

Standing straight, I lifted my chin, stared directly at Kennedy, and said, “I’m the woman who is going to marry him and, God willing, raise a family with him in this house you see right here. You, Ms. Kennedy Owens, are not welcome here, so please turn around, get into your fancy-ass car with your fancy-ass clothes, and please leave before I call someone to remove you.”

Kennedy’s mouth dropped open, and she looked at Bryson. “Are you going to let her talk to me that way? Bryson, we were going to get married, have babies.”

That caused me to suck in a breath as I turned and looked at Bryson with a surprised expression on my face.

Bryson looked at me. “I never asked her to marry me, Rose. That wasn’t what I wanted.”

A wave of relief swept over me as Zane let out a breath. “Thank God! I don’t know what I was going to do if that was the case.”

Everyone turned and looked at him. He shrugged. “I’m invested now.”

Kennedy stomped her stiletto-clad foot, causing dirt to fly everywhere. When she saw mud on her white pants, she let out a scream, spun on her heels, and tried like hell to stomp away. The effect was lost as she stumbled along the dirt road. She slipped into her little sports car and peeled out before she drove down the driveway and out of sight.

Zane handed me the painting. “That is beautiful. Did you do it?”

“I did,” I said as Bryson still seemed angry with Kennedy showing up here, and with a reporter to boot.

“Zane, how would you like the first sneak peek into Bryson Robinson’s new home he is having built? You could do a piece on Bryson about what happens after retirement. A one-time look into his new private life.”

With eyes as big as silver dollars, Zane looked like he was about to jump into my arms and kiss me.

“Bryson?” I asked, causing him to snap out of whatever mood he had been in.

“Yeah, of course. As long as none of this with Kennedy gets included.”

Zane grinned wide. “Kennedy who?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

ROSE

“Stop wringing your hands like that, Rose.”

I drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled as Lily grabbed one hand and Kipton took the other.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea after all,” I whispered as I watched Jax hang up the painting I had created a few weeks ago at Bryson’s place.

“It’s a great idea because it is an amazing painting. Do you honestly think they’d hang up a piece of shit in the gallery?” Lily stated as Kipton chuckled.

“I really do like how you’ve embraced the whole speak your mind thing, Lily,” Kipton stated as she leaned forward and looked at Lily.

“Thank you,” Lily stated with a wide smile.

“Are you two done? Because I honestly think I’m going to throw up.”

Kipton dropped my hand and started to rub my back. “Rose, the painting is beautiful. As a matter of fact, I think it’s the best painting in here.”

Jax looked back at us, a single brow raised.

Clearing her throat, Kipton said, “Landscape-wise.”

His brows rose.

“Besides your paintings, of course,” Kipton added with a nervous burst of laughter. When Jax looked away, Kipton asked, “Does he paint landscapes?”

I nodded.

Jax climbed down the ladder, folded it, and headed toward the back of the gallery to put it away. When the phone rang, Jax excused himself and answered it in the back. Lily and Kipton started wandering around the gallery as I sat on the stool behind the counter. Jax and I hadn’t yet discussed what we should price the painting.

The bell on the gallery door rang, and an older woman walked in. She looked so familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her.

She glanced around the gallery, and when she spied me, she said, “Good afternoon.”

Oh, she must have thought I worked there. I smiled. “How are you today?”

“Wonderful,” she said as she moved farther into the gallery. Kipton and Lily were looking at a sculpture, both talking in lowered voices, but clearly debating something. I stood and went to join them when the woman who had come in gasped.

We all turned to look at her. My stomach felt like it had just caught my heart.

No. No, no, no! Don’t let this happen to me again!

I wasn’t supposed to be here when anyone saw the painting. I hadn’t wanted to know what people thought.

“Who is the artist of this painting?” she asked without looking away from it.

I saw Lily look at me and grin. She was about to call me out as the artist, and my entire body stiffened.

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