“Did you travel often before Chloe was born?”
Ella nods as she sets down her taco and cracks open the beer. “Not often, but I’ve been to a few places.”
My spine straightens and I drop my eyes down to my container to refrain from her seeing the way my blood is beginning to boil. She hasn't given me much, but it makes a little more sense why she responds the way she does. “Where is your favorite place you've been?”
“I loved France,” she tells me and I find myself looking back at her as I hear the smile in her voice. “It was beautiful there and we were surrounded by art. Honestly, I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life, spending my days drawing and painting.”
She's so wistful in the way she speaks about her passion–another thing she hasn't really told me much about.
“What is your favorite medium?”
She tilts her head to the side, settling into the conversation with more comfort than she did the last time we spoke of her painting. “I love oil paints,” she admits with a bashful smile. “They’re my favorite to work with.”
I don't put the pressure on her again about wanting to see her work. Instead, we transition the conversation through a multitude of safe topics, never once touching back over her past or painting again. The two of us finish our food and drain our beers until there's nothing left in the cans.
“Did you want another one?” Ella asks me as she rises to her feet and begins to clean up the empty containers.
Standing up with her, I help put the trash into the bag. “That would be great,” I say as she rounds the table, taking the bag with her. “May I use your restroom?”
“Absolutely.” I follow Ella into the house and she directs me down the small hallway. “It's the room at the end of the hall,” she instructs as she pushes the trash into the can and walks over to the fridge.
Leaving her in the kitchen, I wander to the bathroom to relieve my bladder. After flushing and washing my hands, I pullthe door back open and step out into the hall. There's a door that is cracked open to my right and I catch sight of an easel with a large canvas sitting upon it. Glancing down the hall, I look for her before I peek through the small crack, looking at the painting. It's a landscape of the mountains with cotton candy colored clouds dancing across the horizon.
“Cole?” Ella questions me as she steps into the hall, holding two beers, and catches me red handed. “What are you doing?”
Shit.
I slowly stand up straight, meeting her head on with my gaze with no apology for snooping. “When I was comin’ out of the bathroom, your paintings caught my eye and I couldn't help myself.”
She stares at me, unwavering before she lets out a sigh and walks over to me. Her scent invades my nostrils as she leans past me and pushes the door open. Her body brushes against mine. “I don't usually show these to anyone, but since you've already seen it, come on.”
There's almost a twinge of defeat in her voice and I instantly feel regret. It's chased away as I follow her into the room and I see various paintings laid around the room and a stack on the floor. “Ella,” I breathe her name, walking over to the wall, inspecting the paintings she has hanging. “These are breathtaking.” She doesn't respond as I walk around the perimeter, taking in every piece of art she has created. “These belong in a museum.”
Ella lets out a laugh as I turn around to face her. She stands in the center of the room, shaking her head at me. “That's a little generous.”
My feet move on their own accord, my footsteps soft and I walk directly to her, stopping when my toes are a few inches from her own. “Who told you you weren't enough, El?” I question her, my voice barely audible as she tips her chin up tolook at me. “Your paintings are incomparable to how beautiful you are, but goddamn, it's a close second.”
“Cole,” she breathes, her lips parting as she blinks. Her nostrils flare and she lets out a breath as I reach for her, cupping the side of her face with my left hand. Using my right, I trail my fingers across her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear as her eyelids flutter shut. “Kiss me.”
My heart stops in my chest. For a second, I'm afraid I'm hallucinating. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she says as her eyes open and her gaze burns against mine. “I want nothing more than for you to kiss me right now.”
My chest constricts and I cradle her face in both of my hands, my thumb sweeping across her bottom lip. “I feel like I've waited an eternity to do this,” I admit, my voice hoarse, my thumb trailing along her cheek. My movements are slow and I bring my face down to hers, her eyelids fluttering shut again.
I close my own, breathing in the scent of her as our mouths touch. It's a soft brush at first, my lips grazing hers gently. Ella lets out a breath, sighing as I pull back a fraction of a centimeter, the electrical current rippling across my flesh. I inhale, dropping my mouth back to hers. My lips claim hers, kissing her with a tenderness that has my insides melting. Ella's hands grab my biceps as my tongue slides along the seam of her lips. She parts them, allowing me access as our tongues touch. She holds onto me, kissing me deeply as I steal the air from her lungs.
I breathe her in, memorizing the softness of her lips, savoring the moment, letting it consume me before I pull away from her. It takes every ounce of my self control. I have to stop it here before things go any farther. I have every intention of taking it as slow as she needs. She looks at me, her eyes glazed over as she lifts her fingertips to her swollen lips.
“I don't know the last time I was kissed like that,” she admits breathlessly.
A smile dances across my face. “I'd like to make a habit out of it.”
“Of what?”
My face dips back down to hers, my lips brushing against hers in the softest caress. “Kissin’ you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
