“I’ll do anything as long as I can keep lying here like this,” she said.
“You’re not going to be able to sleep with that party going on like that,” I said. “Let me take you back to my house. We can eat there, order something in or whatever. Tomorrow’s Sunday, so neither of us works.”
“You mean I’ll actually get to wake up to you this time?” she asked playfully.
“If you’d like,” I said.
“Sounds like we’re going back to your place, but only if we can eat pizza. I really want pizza,” she said.
“I’ll let you eat anything as long as it gets you into my house.”
“And into your bed,” she said.
“Into my life, Hailey.”
For the first time since we’d collapsed against one another, she opened her eyes and looked at me. I searched her face for any sign of emotion while my words digested behind her eyes. I slowly sat up, stuffing myself back into my pants while she tried to locate the pieces of her outfit she could put back on her body.
But when she was done, she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“Into your life, it is,” she said breathlessly.
Chapter 26
Hailey
Finally, the time had come. Thanksgiving had come and gone with an official announcement of John’s gallery showing, and early December boasted of its official date. My gallery had been decorated in little things like tasteful red decorations and a small, white Christmas tree in the windowsill that lit up red and white. John’s paintings decorated the walls, speaking of his life and his love. His beauty and his grace. His hurt and his tragic demise.
There were more paintings than I’d realized, to be honest. He had painted enough beautiful paintings to fill the walls of my gallery up twice, so the Saturday evening gallery was made up of the more beautiful paintings I knew he had been proud of. I’d stashed a few in the little shop just in case some sold tonight because I didn’t want there to be any bare spots on the walls.
Not with all this wonderful artwork littering the storage shed out back.
Bryan had the event catered in. There were glasses of wine and champagne. There were a couple of people walking around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and snacks. There were so many people who came out to the Saturday evening gallery that people were waiting outside with their coats pulled against their bodies to keep warm in the chilly December air.
And like I had suspected, John’s art was flying off the walls.
Bryan was absolutely stunned. Every time I tried to mingle with the guests, someone would come up with another tag they’d taken off one of his pictures. I’d ring them up, ask them if they wanted to have it framed here, and then I’d take the picture off the wall. I eventually had to enlist Bryan to replace the pictures, showing him how to fit them on the wall and where I was keeping the extra paintings.
An hour and a half into the gallery showing and Bryan was having to dig around in the storage shed to find even more.
I changed my hair color to a bright cyan for the showing. I chose not to get it cut, allowing it to grow past my chin. My hair matched the elegant gown I was wearing for the evening, coupled with a black faux-fur cover for my shoulders in case I got chilly.
Which was a good idea, because I don’t think the door of my gallery ever really closed for more than five minutes at a time.
Bryan was in this beautifully tailored tuxedo. It hugged him in all the right places, showcasing the breadth of his shoulders as well as the strength in his legs. I had to admit, it was hard keeping my eyes off him, but I did the best I could under the circumstances.
Though I could tell by the way he was stealing glances at me that he was struggling just the same.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said into my ear.
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said, grinning.
“I can’t believe this many people showed up,” he said.
“I can. Your brother’s artwork is incredible, and I knew the community would embrace its dark beauty.”
“Miss Ryan, there you are.”
I turned my head toward Jennifer Skyles, who was pushing her way through the crowd of people to get to me.