Wings Over Poppies (Over #2) (31 page)

We’re both roaring by this point, and I fight to see the pictures through my tears. “You’ve got to be kidding me. He sat through this?”

“After the way he acted? Damn skippy! I prettied him up for hours and rattled his ear off about every single stinking thing he missed while he was being a ginormous jerkface. Hold on, Alex, the best is yet to come.”

She flips the picture, and I see a familiar eye fill the screen. However, this eye is shadowed, lined, and lashed to the nines. There are even tiny rhinestones on the end of the lashes.

As we both dissolve into another fit of laughter, West arrives with his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“What in the world is going on you two?” He looks back and forth between us, and then his eyes widen in realization. “Lucy, no! You were supposed to delete those pictures.”

West dives onto the couch, toppling us as he rips the phone from Lucy’s grip. One by one, he deletes each picture while staying laid out across our laps. My cheeks ache from smiling, and when I chance a peek at Lucy, it’s obvious she feels the same way.

It’s so good to have him back.

He tosses the phone onto the table and sits up between us, stretching his arms across the back of the couch.

“So what are my girls watching?”

I meet Lucy’s glassy eyes and smile. “Whatever you want, babe. We’ll watch whatever you want.”

“The sting in your nose after the first sip of Coke.” Cain nods proudly.

“Folded potato chips.” West chimes in.

“Sunflower seeds at a baseball game,” Timothy adds, looking expectantly at West.

West tousles his hair and smiles. “Nice one, dude.”

“A samocha latte. Full fat, with whip.” I cross my arms, beaming. Hands down, my comfort food choice is the best.

Cain and Timothy look at each other and chuckle knowingly.

“What?” I ask.

Timothy snickers through his words. “You’re such a girl.”

I grab a handful of tees out of my golf bag and toss them in their direction. They hold up their hands, laughing as the tees pelt their legs and chests.

It’s good to see Timothy so relaxed and carefree. Last week, his mother told Caroline he’s getting positive progress reports from his teacher, and she’s noticed a marked improvement at home. When I ask West what he’s doing to make such a change in Timothy, he just shrugs his shoulders. “We just hang out. It’s no big deal.”

Whether or not West knows it, it’s a very big deal. They do much more than just ‘hang out.’ I think Timothy has come to rely on West, and I truly believe it goes both ways. They’ve helped each other.

“You two better watch your mouth. This ‘girl’ can outdrive you, Timothy. And, on a good day, I bet I can outdrive you too, West.”

“Ah, but you’ll never outdrive me,” Cain says as he runs up behind me and pokes me in the butt with a stray tee.

“Ouch!” I whip around and glare at Cain. I turn to West and widen my eyes. “Are you just going to let him assault me?”

West approaches and wraps his arms around me, then swiftly smacks my butt cheek. “Yep, such a girl.” He laughs as he leans into me, then whispers softly in my ear. “But you’re
my
girl.”

I tilt my head up and close my eyes. “Yes, I am.

After a moment, West straightens and turns to Cain and Timothy. “I think we’re gonna head out. Alex and I have somewhere to be. Timothy, your mom said it’s okay for Cain to drive you home. That good with you?”

“Where do we have to be?” I ask. I wasn’t aware of any plans.

“That’s cool, West.” Timothy gives West a high five before running over to Cain. “See ya next week.”

“Sure will, bud.”

We both watch as Cain and Timothy load up and take off. West grabs my braid and tugs, forcing me to meet his eyes. “There’s something I want you to do with me. You’ll see when we get there.”

I pout as West grabs my hand and drags me to the truck.

“Wait right here. I need to grab something from the house, and then we’ll be on our way.”

West leans in and pecks my lips, but doesn’t pull away. I open my eyes and find him staring at me thoughtfully. I grab the bill of his baseball hat and pull him closer, which earns me a huge grin. “Be right back, love.”

He folds out of the car and walks to the garage. I rack my brain for what West may have planned, but I come up empty. Before I can give it much headspace, he approaches the truck with a large wrapped package. If I had to guess, it looks about the size of a … painting? What the hell would West be doing with a painting?

After loading the package into the bed of the truck, he returns to the driver’s seat, smirk firmly in place. He puts the truck in gear and starts driving without explanation.

We’re both quiet as we navigate through the familiar streets. West is driving a little below the speed limit, but I relax and let him take his time. That’s been my approach from the beginning, thanks to Caroline’s advice. As time passes, his speed gradually increases, and he scans his surroundings a little less. Do I ever want to reach over and push his foot to the gas pedal? Absolutely, but he would never know it. I can be patient, if that’s what he needs from me. I’ll always support him in whatever way I can.

“Um, West?”

“Hmmmm?”

“That thing you put in the back of the truck?”

“Yes, baby?”

“It looks a lot like a painting.”

“Does it?” He looks at me innocently.

I burst into laughter. “So that’s how you’re gonna play it, huh?”

One side of his mouth turns up, and he reaches over to squeeze my knee. He turns the truck into the parking lot of The Manor, a local banquet hall, and finds a parking spot. He throws the car in park and faces me.

“What are we doing here?”

“I need to drop that off.” West points to the back of the truck and smiles.

I jump out of the truck and meet West as he grabs the package. “Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t the silent auction for the battered women’s shelter tonight?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I donated a few pieces to auction off.”

“Did you?”

“West! Stop answering every one of my questions with a question. It’s annoying.”

“Is it?” I hear the amusement in his voice, and I stamp my foot to show that I mean business. My display causes him to throw his head back in a roar of laughter. Once he catches his breath, he grabs my neck and pulls me close. He kisses me once, twice, three times, while the painting teeters between us. His lips never leave mine as he speaks. “Let’s go find Caroline. I have a donation.”

“Okay.” His kisses have calmed the impatient beast inside me. Who cares what’s under that wrapping if this man is standing in front of me?

We enter the banquet hall, and I instantly hear Caroline calling orders to the people bustling about, her voice as chipper as ever. It takes much more than a gallery showing to fluster the likes of Caroline. She’s an old pro.

“Alex! West! I’m so glad you both made it. And is this the shelter’s present?” She reaches out, takes the package from West, and walks to the back of the hall. “Follow me. I have the perfect place.”

The Manor consists of one large front meeting room with smaller rooms and alcoves placed strategically around the building. It’s the perfect venue for this type of event.

Caroline stops at an alcove in the back of the building. The setting is intimate. The walls are textured, aged, and surprisingly bare.

“I don’t want anything else to compete with this painting. Even hidden in the back, patrons will seek this one out, I just know it.” She smiles at West and raises her eyebrows. “Shall we?”

West nods and begins slowly tearing away the brown wrapping. Like a kid on Christmas morning, I want to shove him aside and rip the paper away in a frenzy, but I resist. Just barely, though. As the paper is removed piece by piece, I see hints of a deep red paint that is very familiar.

In a swift wave it hits me. I gasp and grab onto West’s arm, tears threatening. He continues unwrapping the painting until the three of us are staring in silence.

My poppy.

I named the piece
Realizations
, and I always wondered who bought it. It was gone when I returned from Cedar Ridge, but the buyer chose to remain anonymous. It’s a fairly common practice in the art world, so it didn’t raise any red flags.

Caroline approaches and places her hands on my cheeks. As always, her gentle smile calms me. “I feel humbled to have the opportunity to showcase such a moving piece, Alex. I’m so proud of you.” She takes my hand, and then reaches for West. “I’m so very proud of both of you.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves the alcove. After moments pass in stunned silence, I turn to West with question in my eyes.

He picks up the painting and carefully hangs it on the display wall. He backs away and pulls me into his side and studies my work.

“I can feel it, you know? The pain. It’s written all over the piece. It was like a punch to the gut the first time I saw it.” I close my eyes. I can only imagine what he felt when he saw this painting. With our history, I’m certain it reads like a journal entry to him.

“How did … when did you?” I’m dumbfounded, obviously unable to form a complete sentence.

He takes pity on me and places a quick kiss on my lips to stop the incoherent rambling. “I bought it while you were away. I’ve caused you enough pain to last a lifetime. I couldn’t stand the thought of you facing this painting every day, thinking of the hateful things I’ve done to you.”

I wipe my eyes and turn into his arms. I wrap my hands around his neck and tangle my fingers in his hair. “I love you so much, West.” I pull him closer and touch our foreheads together. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

West clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. “At first, I wasn’t sure what to say. Then, after some time, it became symbolic to me. I wanted to let this painting go when the time was right. When I felt more light than darkness.” Wests frames my face with his hands and draws me closer. “It took me a while to realize what’s right in front of me. My heart is full, whole, and ready to love you because it never made that trip across the ocean. My heart has never left you—you’ve kept it safe this entire time.”

I pull his lips to mine and pour every emotion I’m feeling into him. I let him set the pace. The kiss is gentle and lazy, like we have all the time in the world to savor it.

Because we do.

“West, honestly, I don’t remember you leaving anything at the gallery. Are you sure your textbook isn’t at home?”

After thanking Caroline and leaving The Manor, West insisted we stop by my gallery to retrieve a textbook of his. He swears he left it in the workroom, although I really think he’s mistaken.

“Trust me, Alex. It’s there, and we need to grab it today.”

West parallel parks by the front door and meets me on the sidewalk. As we approach the door, I’m surprised to see Cain walk out with Timothy in tow.

“All set, dude.” Cain tosses a set of keys, presumably to the gallery, and West catches them midair.

“Yeah, all set dude,” Timothy mimics, high fiving West as he passes.

“Much appreciated,” West says as he claps Timothy on the back.