I Think We Missed Our Turn - L.A. Witt Page 0,42

think Chad and I were over months ago, but neither of us would actually do it. So when it finally happened, it was more of a relief than anything.”

“Exactly. I still feel like a dick for it, but…yeah. Exactly.” I looked in his eyes, and I couldn’t help smiling. “And then it was like, as soon as I finally walked away from her…here you are.”

Marques smiled, caressing my face. “Guess it all worked out, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. Thank God Dad scored that Zoe Neelan collection when he did.”

Marques laughed, which made my spine tingle. “People always talk about art being magic in its own way. I don’t think this is what they’re talking about.” The humor faded in favor of a sweet smile as he combed his fingers through my hair. “I’ll take it, though.”

“Me too.” I lifted myself up and came in for another kiss. Slowly, we wrapped our arms around each other, and we sank together in a warm embrace. I didn’t know if we’d end up fooling around again or not. It had been a long day, after all. Then again, this thing between us had been a long time coming, and now that we’d found our way into each other’s arms, I had a feeling we could find a second wind tonight.

But even if we didn’t, I wouldn’t complain. This felt like the end of a long, tiring road that we’d been following through all kinds of shitty weather and twists and turns, and we’d finally reached the destination we hadn’t even known we were heading for. Now we could start on a new road—one we’d travel together.

Or maybe that was corny and I was just ridiculous because everything in my world felt right. I’d let go of a relationship that had been making both my girlfriend and me miserable. I’d finally crossed over from friends to boyfriends with Marques. I didn’t have any illusions that everything would be smooth sailing and sunshine-and-roses from here on out, but right now, I could feel it in my heart that we were playing for keeps.

With that long, uncertain road behind us, the road ahead wasn’t intimidating at all. We could face whatever came our way together.

And I’d spend the rest of my life being thankful that my dad’s gallery had landed a Zoe Neelan collection.

Chapter 17

Marques

Armin called Omar after we’d made it through Washington to let him know we’d be getting in around eight. We both had keys to the gallery, so we’d drop off the art and make sure it was secured.

Still, it was no surprise when we pulled up behind the gallery and didn’t have to let ourselves in. Omar came out the back door, looking like he was about to come unglued with excitement, and Cass, Katie, and Garrett were all on his heels.

“Shouldn’t you all be home?” Armin asked as he got out. “We’ve got this.”

“Are you kidding?” Cass sniffed. “You’ve got a trunk full of Zoe Neelan art. We want to see it.”

“And it’s all safe?” Omar cupped his hands around his face and peered in through one of the tinted back windows. “You were careful?”

“Yes, Dad.” Armin smiled. “We were careful. I promise. And it’s all foam-packed—it’s not going anywhere.”

“Oh, good.” He exhaled and turned to us. “Well? Let’s get it out. I want to see!”

Armin and I exchanged exasperated looks. So much for taking a break now that we weren’t on the road anymore.

The fatigue from traveling didn’t really hold a candle to the collective excitement over the pieces from Zoe. As we carefully unloaded each and carted it into the gallery, Omar and the others were about to lose their minds.

When Armin carefully opened the first box and we pulled off the molded foam lid, Cass and Katie both gasped. Omar didn’t make a sound—he had his hand over his mouth, and he just stared at the gorgeous metalwork nestled into the foam. For a minute, I thought he might start crying. Couldn’t really blame him, to be honest.

“I still can’t believe you guys got to meet her,” Katie said. “What was she like?”

“Oh, she was so nice,” I said. “She made us lunch when we got there, and sent a bunch of sandwiches and stuff with us when we left. She’s like a grandma.”

Armin gave my elbow a gentle nudge. “You going to tell them about the torch?”

“Torch?” Omar’s eyebrows shot up, a mix of alarm and cautious excitement on his face.

I beamed. “She let me weld a little bead