I’d finished off my dinner and was debating between apple pie or the slightly more sane bowl of berries, when a messenger arrived at our table. He delivered a package to Damien, who took a quick look at it, then passed it to Cole. “I think you were expecting this.”

The envelope was thin, with the exception of some bulk in the middle. He reached inside, pulled out a smaller padded envelope and tucked that into the leather backpack he’d brought with him. Then he pulled out a sheaf of papers. “For you,” he said, then handed them to me.

I glanced down, confused at first, then a little giddy when I saw what they were. “My closing documents?”

“I arranged to have them scanned and sent to Damien’s office.”

“And I’ll get them returned tonight by courier so that you’ll have access to your house tomorrow,” Damien said. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Oh my god,” I said, looking between the two men. “Thank you.”

Cole squeezed my hand. “It’s your first house. It’s important.”

“Your first?” Nikki repeated, and I nodded, foolishly teary-eyed, and not even caring. “Then we need to make a toast,” she said, then lifted her half-empty glass of wine. “To your new home. May it always be filled with love and happiness.”

“Thank you,” I said, as we all clinked glasses.

There was some more general discussion about the house, and I probably bored Nikki to death with my musings about where I was going to put my furniture. She was, however, polite enough to look interested. And considering she made a few suggestions, maybe she genuinely was.

“Now that Katrina’s signed her papers,” Damien said, turning toward Cole, “I should tell you that all of the documents you’ll need to sign will be ready in the morning. I’m sorry I’ll be out of town, but Charles will meet you at my office, and he’ll push everything through. And then Nikki and I will see you in Chicago for the wedding.”

“Looking forward to it,” Cole said. “And I appreciate you going out on a limb like this.”

“I’m not,” Damien said. “It’s a good investment, albeit a bit tricky in the details.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Next he’s going to say that’s what makes it fun.”

Damien shrugged. “Well, it is.” He stroked his fingers over her shoulder, but spoke to Cole. “I’ll check in from Tokyo. But if you need anything, Charles will take care of it,” he added, referring again to his attorney.

“Tokyo?” I said. “Business?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, but not mine.”

“It’s my first international trade show for my software development company,” Nikki said. “Thank goodness Damien’s going to be there to hold my hand.”

They had, I noticed, been holding hands or otherwise touching throughout the evening.

It had made me happy to see it. For that matter, it had made me want that, too. But even as I was wishing for that very thing, I realized that Cole had held my hand most of the afternoon. And now, his fingertips were resting on my thigh. During the meal, he’d brushed his thumb over my lip to catch a bit of mustard. And more than once he’d fed me a bite of dessert off his fork.

I reached over and took his hand, then met his eyes.

What? he mouthed.

But I just smiled, thinking of how much I already had, and how lucky I felt simply being with this man. And how, at least for the moment, everything was right with the world.

When Cole suggested that we take a quick stroll through the gallery, I’d expected to see colorful paintings that featured the sea. Wyland-style images that were so often popular in coastal communities.

What I saw instead, was me.

Not just me, of course. But there was an entire wall featuring portraits similar to the ones that I’d seen at the Chicago gallery. All anonymous, true, but now that I knew the subject of the portraits, it was easy enough to recognize myself.

“I had no idea,” I said, taking Cole’s hand. “How many of these have you painted?”

His mouth quirked up. “How many hours have I lost watching you?”

“Lost?” I teased.

“Invested,” he said. “Treasured. Enjoyed.”

I leaned in close and kissed him. “Better,” I said. “And I really am flattered. Awed.” I shook my head, not quite able to find the words. “Each time I see myself on a canvas and know that it was your brushstrokes that put me there—I don’t know, Cole. It makes me feel warm inside. It makes me feel special.”

“That’s because you are,” he said. “That’s because I can’t see you any other way.”

Nikki and Damien had come with us, and though Damien had moved to the far side of the room to admire some colorful glass sculptures, Nikki was close enough to have overheard our conversation. When Cole kissed my cheek, then headed across the room to join Damien, she moved to my side.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Nikki said, “but I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I love these images. I fell in love with the first one I saw even before I realized it was me.”

“Really?” She lifted a brow. “And when you realized that Cole had painted it?”

I pressed my lips together. “It’s like what I told him—it made me feel special.” What I didn’t add—what I still couldn’t say out loud—was that it made me feel loved.

Beside me, Nikki nodded, and I saw understanding on her face.

“Damien didn’t paint your portrait,” I said. “But I’m guessing you felt the same way.”

“You know about that?”

I lifted a shoulder. “It was kind of all over the news.” Damien Stark had paid a million dollars for a nude, erotic portrait of Nikki. She’d been anonymous in the portrait—her face hidden. But when her identity had been revealed—along with the fact that she and Damien were a couple—the press had gone on a feeding frenzy.

I’d felt bad for her at the time. Now, knowing her, I despised the press even more. “That must have been hell,” I added. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“So am I,” she said. “But I survived it. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t fun, but in the end I think it made me stronger. It sounds clichéd, but I really mean it. And one absolutely good thing came out of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Damien, of course. We came through it, and we came through it together. And when we did, we proved to the world what we already knew.”

“What’s that?”

“We fit each other.” She shrugged. “Simple, but true.” She smiled then, broad and happy. “I look at you and Cole and that’s what I see. Am I right?”

I glanced across the gallery to where he stood with Damien, two gorgeous men who outshone all of the art that hung around them. “Yeah,” I said. “I think we do fit.” And I could only hope that Cole thought so, too.

nineteen

“You’re sure you don’t want a night on the town?” Cole asked as we stood in front of the Beverly Wilshire hotel and watched Damien’s driver, Edward, pull the limo back into traffic. “Los Angeles. A limo. That’s a lot of potential to pass up.”