“God, you look so handsome in your tux.” Savannah fiddled with his bowtie.
“The showing’s going to be great. People are already loving your art.” He turned her. “Look.”
There were lots of people, all dressed in tuxedos and fancy dresses. Haven was talking with an elegant-looking couple who were staring intently at one of Savannah’s paintings.
“It doesn’t feel real,” Savannah murmured. “It’s like a dream.”
“It’s real.” He slid a hand down to her stomach. She’d had the work done on the scars. There would always be something there, but they were hardly noticeable now.
She didn’t seem to think about them anymore.
“I lost everything, now I have everything and more.” She spun. “I’m really, really glad my grumpy, detective neighbor came thumping on my door.”
“Me too, baby.” He kissed her. “Love you.”
“I love you too, Hunter.”
“Excuse me.” Haven appeared in a long, pretty, purple dress, sounding bossy. “You don’t get to monopolize the woman of the night, Hunt.” Haven took Savannah’s arm. “Come on. There are lots of people who want to meet the artist, and spend lots of money.”
As Haven pulled her away, Savannah shot him a look that was part terrified, part excited.
He smiled and sipped his bourbon.
“Looks like Savannah’s showing is a big success.” Vander stepped up beside him.
Vander somehow managed to look dark and dangerous in his tuxedo. He cradled a glass of something amber. Probably a hell of a lot more expensive than Hunt’s Blanton.
“Lots of sold stickers already,” Easton said, from the other side of Vander. The billionaire looked like he wore a tux every day.
“I’m damn proud of her,” Hunt said. “She deserves this.”
He planned to give her everything she deserved. All the things that had been denied to her for so long.
“I might have purchased that sculpture called Woman for an exorbitant amount,” Easton said. “I’m pretty sure Haven hosed me.”
Hunt had admired the piece and been lucky enough to see it being created. It was a woman with her arms raised above her head, her naked body covered in a tiny wisp of fabric. Savannah had worked on it for days. It was both elegant and sensuous.
Hunt’s lips quirked. “I take it you recognize the model.”
Easton’s eyes flashed. “I recognize my woman’s naked body when I see it.”
Vander grinned.
“Brynn posed for Savannah as well,” Hunt said. “The piece isn’t finished yet.”
“Shit.” Vander’s smile disappeared. “I’ll buy it before it goes to a showing.”
Hunt heard music start up in the back corner. There was a small band, and later there’d be a jazz singer and dancing. He planned to lure his woman onto the dance floor, and have her in his arms, as soon as she was finished hobnobbing.
She deserved to bask in her success.
He watched her talk with a trio of potential buyers. She gestured to the painting on the wall, then she glanced over and saw him watching her.
She blew him a kiss.
“Careful,” Vander warned. “You keep looking at her like that, and the place will go up in flames.”
“I get how you feel now, Vander. About Brynn.”
Vander’s gaze shifted, zeroing in on Brynn. Hunt’s cousin wore a sexy, one-shouldered dress in a pretty blue-gray. She was laughing with Harlow and Gia.
“You’d take on the world for them,” Vander murmured. “Stop anything from hurting them, all so they’ll look at you with love on their face.”
Hunt nodded. “Exactly like that.” He held his glass up. “Here’s to the love of a good woman.”
Vander touched his glass to Hunt’s.
Ryder and Camden appeared.
“What are we toasting?” Ryder asked.
“Loving a good woman,” Hunt told him.
Ryder shook his head. “I like to spread the joy. The ‘one woman’ thing isn’t for me.”
Easton, Vander, and Hunt all traded a look.
Cam stayed silent, but as Hunt followed his brother’s gaze, he saw him looking at Saskia Hawke. Savannah’s best friend had flown in for the showing. She was slim, with a body suited to the ballerina she was. She looked stunning in a black sheath dress.
“Your time will come,” Easton told Ryder.
“Nope.” Ryder sipped his beer, then half choked. “Who is that?”
Hunt turned. A woman stalked along the edge of the dance floor wearing a shimmery, metallic dress in blood-red. It clung to her long, fit body, molding over an ass that deserved more than a second look. It had tiny, spaghetti straps, and no back. It dipped all the way down to the top of her spectacular ass. Her long, brown hair—streaked with gold—was loose.
Vander made a sound. “That’s the newest Norcross Security employee. Siv Pedersen.”
“Seeve,” Ryder repeated. “I wonder if she likes to dance.”
“Careful,” Vander warned. “She’s ex-Norwegian special forces, with a specialty in Arctic warfare and oil rig security.”
“Sounds badass,” Hunt said.
Ryder set his drink down and straightened his bowtie. “I’ll be back.”
Hunt shook his head. His brother had always liked a challenge…and getting himself into trouble.
Once again, Hunt scanned the room and found Savannah. Yes, when the right one appeared, it made everything worthwhile.
Eric, Mitchell, and Manny hadn’t made it home. They’d died for their country, but Hunt would live—in their memory, for Savannah, and for himself.
Okay, she was giddy.
And it wasn’t just from the copious amounts of very excellent champagne.
“I hope you can’t die from happiness,” Savannah said.
“Nope,” Haven replied. “I can confirm that.” The woman’s smile sparkled. “You’re a huge success, Savannah Cole.”
“I am.” There were so many sold stickers. People had loved the showing and her artwork. “All thanks to you.”
Haven shook her head. “No, thanks to your talent.”
“My art is being appreciated, I’m safe, and I’m in love with a hot detective.”
Hunter was in a huddle of handsome hotness with some of the Norcross men.
“You totally deserve it all.” Gia held up a bottle of Moët and topped up Savannah’s glass. “And I bought two pieces for myself. Saxon got a third.”
“That nude of the curvy brunette.” Haven winked.
“You can’t tell it’s me,” Gia said. “My face is obscured.”
“He could,” Haven said.
Savannah sipped, enjoying the bubbles on her lips. “Just weeks ago, I had nothing. And now…” She saw her mom and brother dancing together. They were laughing. Her mom called Savannah every other day, and Savannah and Hunt were planning a trip to New York in the near future. Her mom still tripped up occasionally and called her Susannah, but it was less often now. They were still working through some of the pain and hurt, but love shone through strongly.