Beginning Again: Book 1 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) by Peggy Bird Page B
Authors: Peggy Bird
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a private look that made her want to close the gallery and run upstairs with him where they could be alone.
One odd thing occurred. After Liz commandeered Jamie to help her write up sales, she saw Collins and Mason off in a corner having what looked to be a serious discussion. She hadn’t even known they’d been introduced. What the hell was that all about? she wondered.
By the end of the evening, a case of wine had been drunk, several wheels of cheese had been nibbled down to nothing, a number of boxes of crackers and countless bowls of pretzels and nuts had been consumed. But she’d sold more than $9,000 worth of art, most of that amount from Collins’s work. The Fairchild Gallery was off to a great start.
• • •
After closing at nine, they tidied up and took care of the money. Liz, who’d sworn she was so wired she wouldn’t be able to settle down, was asleep before Collins joined her in bed.
He was the one who lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. She nestled against him, as she often did in her sleep, her hand on his chest, making him feel protective, making him feel like he just might want to build that damn white picket fence and get that golden retriever after all.
But before he bought dog food or hit the home improvement store, he had to talk to her. Now that the problem was taken care of and the gallery was open, he’d run out of reasons to put it off.
Tomorrow. He’d tell her tomorrow.
Chapter 10
She woke with a feeling so warm and wonderful she wanted to bottle it to save for the inevitable rainy day. Curled in a ball with her eyes still shut, she replayed the evening in her mind to make sure she remembered it correctly. When the rewind was complete she knew she was right. It had been a success. If last night was any indication, she had a shot at making it as a gallery owner.
With the opening out of the way, she could face something else. Collins and what she felt for him. It went far beyond gratitude for the major part he’d played in her success last night. No man had ever filled her with such joy, such happiness, such passion. Nor had any infuriated and driven her crazy, too, but that seemed to be the other side of the passion coin, as far as she could tell. He’d told her one time that he loved her, but hadn’t said it since. Maybe he was waiting for her to respond in kind.
She opened her eyes and rolled over to tell him, to hear him say again that he loved her. But he was gone.
The note he’d left in the kitchen said he had business to finish up and would be back by ten. She showered, dressed, and went downstairs to the gallery to finish getting everything ready for Jamie to open at noon. When Collins returned at 9:30, she was back in the apartment, sipping coffee and tabulating sales from the night before.
“Look,” she said, waving credit card receipts. “It’s over $9,000 — mostly from sales of your work. You’ll have a great check from The Fairchild Gallery by the end of the month.” When he didn’t respond and just walked past her to the kitchen, she put the paperwork down and followed. “You left so early this morning,” she said, trying to kiss him.
“Yeah, I had something I had to finish up.” It was happening again. He came back from taking care of his “business” and was distant, distracted. “Is there more coffee?”
“Just made a fresh pot. Let me get you some.” She got a mug from the cabinet.
He took it from her and poured coffee from the pot. “I’ve got it.”
“Did something go wrong?”
Sipping from his coffee cup, he avoided her eyes. “I need to tell you something and I’m not sure how to do it.”
She couldn’t breathe. “Is it as serious as it sounds?”
“I guess that depends on how you react when I tell you.”
“Okay, then let’s get it on the table.”
He walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. Waving her to a place next to him, he said, “Sit, please.” He took her hand and tried to lace his
One odd thing occurred. After Liz commandeered Jamie to help her write up sales, she saw Collins and Mason off in a corner having what looked to be a serious discussion. She hadn’t even known they’d been introduced. What the hell was that all about? she wondered.
By the end of the evening, a case of wine had been drunk, several wheels of cheese had been nibbled down to nothing, a number of boxes of crackers and countless bowls of pretzels and nuts had been consumed. But she’d sold more than $9,000 worth of art, most of that amount from Collins’s work. The Fairchild Gallery was off to a great start.
• • •
After closing at nine, they tidied up and took care of the money. Liz, who’d sworn she was so wired she wouldn’t be able to settle down, was asleep before Collins joined her in bed.
He was the one who lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. She nestled against him, as she often did in her sleep, her hand on his chest, making him feel protective, making him feel like he just might want to build that damn white picket fence and get that golden retriever after all.
But before he bought dog food or hit the home improvement store, he had to talk to her. Now that the problem was taken care of and the gallery was open, he’d run out of reasons to put it off.
Tomorrow. He’d tell her tomorrow.
Chapter 10
She woke with a feeling so warm and wonderful she wanted to bottle it to save for the inevitable rainy day. Curled in a ball with her eyes still shut, she replayed the evening in her mind to make sure she remembered it correctly. When the rewind was complete she knew she was right. It had been a success. If last night was any indication, she had a shot at making it as a gallery owner.
With the opening out of the way, she could face something else. Collins and what she felt for him. It went far beyond gratitude for the major part he’d played in her success last night. No man had ever filled her with such joy, such happiness, such passion. Nor had any infuriated and driven her crazy, too, but that seemed to be the other side of the passion coin, as far as she could tell. He’d told her one time that he loved her, but hadn’t said it since. Maybe he was waiting for her to respond in kind.
She opened her eyes and rolled over to tell him, to hear him say again that he loved her. But he was gone.
The note he’d left in the kitchen said he had business to finish up and would be back by ten. She showered, dressed, and went downstairs to the gallery to finish getting everything ready for Jamie to open at noon. When Collins returned at 9:30, she was back in the apartment, sipping coffee and tabulating sales from the night before.
“Look,” she said, waving credit card receipts. “It’s over $9,000 — mostly from sales of your work. You’ll have a great check from The Fairchild Gallery by the end of the month.” When he didn’t respond and just walked past her to the kitchen, she put the paperwork down and followed. “You left so early this morning,” she said, trying to kiss him.
“Yeah, I had something I had to finish up.” It was happening again. He came back from taking care of his “business” and was distant, distracted. “Is there more coffee?”
“Just made a fresh pot. Let me get you some.” She got a mug from the cabinet.
He took it from her and poured coffee from the pot. “I’ve got it.”
“Did something go wrong?”
Sipping from his coffee cup, he avoided her eyes. “I need to tell you something and I’m not sure how to do it.”
She couldn’t breathe. “Is it as serious as it sounds?”
“I guess that depends on how you react when I tell you.”
“Okay, then let’s get it on the table.”
He walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. Waving her to a place next to him, he said, “Sit, please.” He took her hand and tried to lace his
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