Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,85
you that day in Malibu that you'd already changed my life for the better in more ways than I could ever tell you. You reminded me to have fun again. You’re impetuous and free spirited, and frankly, scare the shit out of me, but there it is. And that night, after the exhibition, when you told me about the sculpture, I knew I ruined it. Instead of saying thank you or telling you how much that meant to me, I did what I always do—attempt to drug you with sex. It was the only way I knew to say the one thing that I couldn’t. I love you.”
A chill settled over Jessica’s body, followed quickly by prickling heat. Her heart hammered as she watched his lips continue to move, but she didn't understand a word past I love you.
“Y-you love me?”
“God, yes. I should have just said the words instead of thinking the actions were enough.”
Her brain stuttered on something he'd said before his confession of love. “Wait, you said you were so happy about the sculpture. But that’s Samson's work.”
His bronzed skin turned a pale shade of red, and he immediately stopped talking. The longer she stared, the redder he grew. Finally, he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away. “Yeah, uh, the sculpture is mine. Samson doesn't sculpt. I do. It was the one medium I excelled in. It was the only thing that was mine.”
“You, Eli, did that piece?”
“Yes.” He still wouldn't look at her.
Only then did she understand that he thought his work wasn't worth anything. When he'd taken her into the sculpting room at his place, he'd called himself a failed artist. And she got it. Why he'd given up being an artist for Samson to shine. He'd never thought himself good enough. “Eli.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never shown anyone that room. Vince asks why I have a three bedroom place with a room I never use.”
She frowned. Vince? Exhaling a long breath, she sank down onto the bed. “You realize we're going to have to re-have a shit ton of conversations. What do you do, exactly?”
Eli blinked at her several times and shook his head. “Oh, uh, I work as an art authenticator and retriever for Banes Insurance. I also consult for the FBI. White collar crimes essentially.”
“FBI? And Vince is your handler?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Wingman. Got it.”
“I have no right to ask, but maybe you'd be willing for us to start over. Maybe let me take you on a real date or two. I've been a complete mess without you. Please say you'll think about it.”
There. He was hers. Finally, a guy that she could count on. One who was available, with a normal job. And he loved her. He wanted to be with her and no one else. She ignored the twinge of mistrust. He was hers. She loved him. Had since she’d sold his sculpture work. There was something so tender in it. So open. She didn't need to start over with him. She might not have known his name, but she knew him at the core.
Standing on shaky legs, she walked over to him and laid a hand on his chest.
His eyes were grave. “Sassy, please don’t tell me to go. I don’t think I can take another night like the one in the hotel.”
“Eli, I love you. You see past everything and see me. Of course, I love you.”
His arms snapped around her so quickly her breath choked out.
“Oh, God. I wasn’t sure you’d ever take me back. I will spend every minute of the rest of my life telling you every way I can how much I love you.”
She grinned. “That’s an excellent start.”
Epilogue
Lights twinkled above Jessica’s head, and she couldn’t resist a twirl in her vintage Tom Ford chartreuse dress.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she sighed into the embrace. “You look beautiful, Miss Stanton. I’m very proud of you.”
She smiled. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without these artists I know. Twins. Can you imagine? One this fantastic sculptor. He was the real find, honestly. The other a gifted painter with a flair for the dramatic.”
Across the room Samson escorted two models. Several patrons had already tried to pay for him to do a private in-home exhibition. Jessica shook her head.
Eli’s voice was a low rumble in her ear. “Don’t go feeling bad for Samson. He’s having a ball. This is exactly the kind of opening he’s always dreamed about. Thank you for helping