Page 32 of Labor of Love

“I’d say we’re on the right track for a strong, lasting love.” My eyebrow raises as I push up on my tiptoes.

“For you, I’d do any amount of labor for your love.” His hands rest on my waist, fingertips digging in, claiming me like a possession.

“I love you, Stetson Hayes.”

“I love you too, Layla Martin.” And right there in the middle of the gallery, our love becomes its own form of art. Beautiful, a little messy, full of labor, and forever ours.

THE END

EPILOGUE

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Breakfast smells amazing, Stetson.” I swivel on the barstool at the kitchen island.

“Gotta fuel you up after the energy you burned last night.” I smile thinking about how I was casually reading on the wrap-around porch. He scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom for a long night of ecstasy.

“And this morning.” I sigh in contentment, admiring the way his place has turned out—each detail plucked straight from my dreams, built with me in mind.

The kitchen hosts an island breakfast bar separate from the table. His...our bedroom window bench is my favorite spot in the house. The large candles on end tables and fluffy blankets splayed across the couches scream cozy. And the semi-open floor plan has dimmable pot lights. The gooseneck lights on the wall make my paintings look extra fancy.

“Your eye for color is truly a talent.” Stetson says with a wink, handing me a breakfast plate as I spin around on the island stool.

“Color is what pays my bills.” I giggle, staring at the delicious homemade waffles. I’m practically moved in at this point, the apartment becoming more of a paint studio.

“About that…” Stetson takes a seat beside me. “Eat up, I have something to show you after.”

“A surprise?” It’s a conditioned expectation at this point. This man is always going out of his way. He must enjoy the ways I say thank you...

“It might be your favorite one yet.” He digs into his meal. Slight anxiety peeks, wondering how he could top the last one. A larger vehicle—no other than a Chevy—to transport my art and supplies was almost too much to accept, but he enjoys taking care of me.

“You spoil me too much, but also, please don’t stop.” Waffles are no match to Stetson’s surprises, and I can’t eat with this much excitement.

“You deserve the world, Layla Martin.”

“One day you’ll call me Layla Hayes.” He chokes on his waffle and reaches for his coffee. Stetson looks me in the eyes.

“I love the sound of that.” He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my ring finger. “You promise to let me know when you’re ready?”

“I’m always honest with you.” I know a few months back I said I wasn’t ready to move in, but after the first gallery event, I knew I was holding myself back. A week after his house was complete, I moved in. “Please show me the surprise. I promise to eat after.”

“Alright.” Stetson stands, holding my hand and we walk toward the back door.

“I’m wearing nothing but your shirt.” I’m in no state to go outside.

“Good thing there’s no dress code where I’m taking you.” Stetson slides the door open, and crisp air halts our breath. He picks me up bridal style, walking the short distance to the little barn-like garage he’s been working on.

Entering the building, the woodstove is already on. A large chair that can fit us both is beside it. This place seems more of a man cave than a garage since it’s well insulated. Right now, there’s just a concrete floor and drywall.

“Ooo a cozy chair to cuddle on.” I stand, staring out the gorgeous window wall overlooking the ranch. “Is the surprise helping you christen the place?” I smirk.

“Look around, Layla.” His tone is smooth. A satisfied smile rests on his face. My heart races as I look for anything different besides the chairs.

Then above the door we entered, I spot it.

My art logo hangs, engraved into a wooden sign.

“We can make one for the front of the door and the beginning of the driveway too.” This place was never meant for him or his ATVs. Inevitably, my eyes pool with tears, heart squeezing with love. Leaving Clint and gaining self-worth was hard but propelled me to where I am today.