Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“No.” I step into the hallway with her, and remembering she completed the piece today, I say, “Wait. Show me your painting.”
Her face lights up with excitement, and I quickly follow her to her art studio. She switches on the light and gestures at the easel.
I step closer to her latest masterpiece and admire the detail she’s put into every item that forms a heap beneath the child, conveying that a child’s foundation is important.
With nervous tension in her voice, she asks, “What do you think?”
“Christ, Lillian. Your talent is next level.”
I hold my hand out to her, and when she places hers in mine, I tug her closer. Together, we look at her hard work.
“The detail is out of this world,” I murmur.
Leaning the side of her head against my bicep, she whispers, “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.”
“I only have one left to complete, then I’ll make a portfolio with photos of all the pieces to show to galleries. Hopefully, they feel the same as you about my work.”
“Once you have a portfolio ready, I’d like one,” I say, with the full intention of showing it to Eloise.
“Okay.”
Lifting a hand, I place a finger beneath her chin and nudge her face up, then leaning down, I press a soft kiss to her mouth.
“Your talent is extraordinary, Lillian.”
She gives me a self-conscious smile that tells me she’s not used to receiving compliments.
“Thank you.”
I don’t understand how no one has discovered her art. Or how the men aren’t lining up for a chance to date her.
It’s their loss because I plan on making her mine in every possible way.
I steal another kiss before we leave the room. When we reach the front door, I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around her.
“Tell me to go home,” I chuckle.
She shakes her head, laughter bubbling from her. “I’m enjoying this hug too much.”
I squeeze her against me and kiss her hair before reluctantly letting go. My eyes capture hers as I say, “Night, Lily.”
The sudden nickname feels as natural as breathing and suits her a million times better than her given name.
A happy smile forms on her face, and it’s clear she likes that I called her ‘Lily.’
She follows me to the elevator, and after I’ve stepped inside, we stare at each other as the doors slide closed.
“Night, Callan,” she murmurs right before disappearing from my sight.
On the ride down to the lobby, satisfaction fills my chest.
Lily.
Softly chuckling, I shake my head because it’s only been a matter of weeks, and she’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.
As I leave the building and climb into my car, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull the device out and grin when I see a text from my woman.
I quickly change her name from Lillian to Lily, then read what she’s sent me.
Lily: Thank you for coming over tonight.
Lily: PS. I really like the nickname.
I type out a reply before I start the engine and pull away from the curb.
Callan: Please tell me I’m the only person who calls you Lily.
The device connects to Bluetooth, and I see when her text comes through.
Lily: You are.
A satisfied smirk forms on my face.
Who would’ve thought I’d be possessive of a name?
Chapter 21
Lily
If it weren’t for the problem with my parents, I’d be on cloud nine, twenty-four-seven.
It’s been two days since I called my mom, and I still haven’t heard from her.
Enough is enough.
After spending the morning setting up a website for my art, I decide to go see my parents so we can talk in person.
I send Callan a quick text telling him where I’m going and that he might not be able to reach me.
His reply comes through within minutes.
Callan: Enjoy the visit. Let me know when you’re home again.
Lily: Will do xox
Taking a cab to the mansion, my stomach tightens with nerves. Even though I know the chances are slim to none, I keep hoping my parents will see things my way.
The cab stops at the address, and after paying the fee, I get out. My eyes land on the limestone house where I grew up, and taking a couple of deep breaths, I climb the steps and knock on the door.
Here goes nothing.
It takes a moment before I hear movement, and when Mom opens the front door, surprise ripples over her face. “Oh. Lillian. You didn’t say anything about coming over.”
She steps aside, and I enter the foyer. “Can we talk, please?” I ask, my tone hopeful.
“Your father is still very upset about your recent behavior.” A frown forms on her forehead. “Honestly, Lillian. What’s gotten into you? First, you fight us about studying law, and now you want to move into a different place?” Shaking her head, she lets out a huff. “And telling your father to stop sending you money? What were you thinking? You don’t even have a job. Are you going to live in some rat-invested one-bedroom?”