Chances were that Kris Cannon would be blonde and beautiful, just like the rest of her family.
Feeling a bit more comfortable with the laid back atmosphere, Rori turned her attention back to the trampoline and bit back a scream as one of the smaller children launched high into the air. Rori looked around to see if any of the parents took issue with their child being propelled ten feet up, but none of them seemed to mind a bit as they escaped into adult conversation.
Rori decided she shouldn’t say anything either and chose to focus on how much each of the children appeared to love “Uncle Luke”. Her judgment had been on the mark at least. Luke would make a great father. A hands-on father—even a playful one. She hadn’t dared hope for that in a husband, but she would take it. And that smile of his? It was definitely growing on her. She might actually even want to draw it.
Rori took out her phone out and took some shots to capture the moment. Luke’s easy smile, his carefree frame, and the way he tickled the kids mid-air and got them screaming with delight. She zoomed in, capturing the expressions that accompanied the squeals, and when she zoomed back out she noticed one of the little girls sitting on the edge of the tramp sniffling back tears. Sitting next to her was Mike. When the girl pointed to a spot on her arm, he kissed it before pressing a second kiss to her forehead.
“All better?” Rori didn’t hear the words, but they were easy enough to read on Mike’s lips. Beaming, the little girl smiled and got up to start jumping again. Mike watched for a second, then got up and joined the fray again.
A perfect moment, and she hadn’t even captured it. She’d just watched—forgetting to breathe, not to mention snap off a shot.
It was moments like this when her inner artist came out. Perfect moments that disappeared as quickly as they came. Rori closed her eyes, letting the image swim in her mind, memorizing it. The expression on the little girl’s face. Mike’s solemn, yet somehow playful concern. The child’s simple desire to know that someone cared she’d been hurt before turning off the tears and returning to the fun.
Rori wanted to sketch it. Sculpt it, maybe. And once she was done with that, she wanted to capture Mike’s expression as he bounced his nieces and nephews. Then she wanted to look into his eyes when they were smoky with need, when he was angry, vulnerable, and heartbroken. She wanted to capture it all in his form. Everything.
Ah, shit. She was thinking of Mike as a muse. It had been a long time since she’d had one of those. Models, yes. Themes, yes. Inspiration, yes. But a single muse? No. In that moment she could imagine Mike Cannon in every phase of the human condition which had her heart beating in the most uncomfortable way. It felt like it was pounding and leaking at the same time. Exciting with an edge of anxiety bordering on pain that turned everything but him into white noise.
Not good, Rori coached herself. S
he needed to proceed with caution. She was an engaged woman. And engaged women didn’t mentally undress the best man and imagine immortalizing their entwined bodies in marble.
She needed to nip this in the bud. Now. She needed to send the message to her brain that Mike’s body and her body had no future together. He was destined for someone else—anyone else. Maybe even a friend of hers.
Before Rori could think twice about it, she snapped off a picture of Mike and hit “share”. Spending time with my man, and I have one to spare. Who wants him? Then she uploaded the picture to Facebook. Let her friends objectify and fight over the best man. Rori needed to stick with the groom.
Jumping from the tramp, Luke landed right next to her. “You look mad. What’s up?”
Luke had noted something was off? Had she been that transparent?
“Oh, I’m just auctioning your friend off on Facebook,” she teased, letting her hand rest on his chest as she showed him the screen.
“Yeah?” he laughed, his hand gripping hers lightly before releasing. “Good luck with that. Want to take my place on the tramp while I get a drink?”
Fear fluttered in her chest. Her? On a trampoline? Something told her that letting Luke in on the fact she’d never set foot on one wouldn’t