I chuckled at her drowsy attempt at seduction. “Is that a fact?”
She tugged my head down, nipping on my earlobe. “I have ways.”
“I bet you do.” Turning my face, I captured her lips with mine, kissing her. It took my body about three seconds to catch up with Sunny, but my erection kicked up fast and hard.
“Mmm,” she whispered. “You taste like ginger.”
“And you taste like mint, you little seductress. You planned this.”
She peered up at me, shifting on my lap. “I think it worked. Take me back to bed, Linc. I promise you’ll sleep well once I’m done with you.”
That was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
The following Monday, I was busy working on my laptop. Abby was at the house with Sunny and the town librarian, letting her have first choice of the books on the shelves. After my meltdown, it was decided perhaps it was better if I didn’t return to the house. I was fine with the idea. I had what I wanted from the interior, and the one thing left on my list was to watch it disappear. In less than two weeks, I’d have my wish. Until then, I was happy to stay away. There was nothing else I wanted to take from it. Or at least I thought so, until Sunny burst in, her arms filled with picture frames and looking strangely excited.
I saved the item I was working on and shut the lid. If Sunny saw the car I was building for her, she would call a full stop to my endeavors, and I was having too much fun making it for her. She loved Abby’s SUV so much, I decided to get her one of her own. I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to it. I hoped delight would override her independent streak. Especially the way I planned to present it to her.
I smiled at her flushed cheeks. “What’s got you all excited, Sunny-girl?”
“Linc, did you know your mother used to paint watercolors?”
I scratched my head. “No.”
“Mrs. Miller was telling me as we looked through the books. She said your mother always loved to paint, even back in school. She says there’s one of her paintings in the library.”
“Wow. I’ll have to go see it.” A fragment of a memory floated in my head. “I recall an easel, I think. In the back sun-room. I remember a pencil behind her ear a lot. At least, I always thought it was a pencil. Maybe…it could have been a paintbrush.” I indicated the pile of items in her arms. “What are those?”
She laid the pile in front of me. “Your mother’s paintings, Linc.”
I gaped at her. “What?”
“They were in a box, upstairs in one of the closets.”
I picked one up, studying it. Pretty, light, and feminine, it was a good painting. The use of light was wonderful, and I could see how talented she had been. And priceless to me because of who painted it. “Are we sure these are my mother’s?” I asked.
“Yes. Look at the bottom. She always signed her pictures the same way. With simply a W. Mrs. Miller said she always used her initial.”
I spread out the collection, looking at them. There were six in all. All similar in composition, all signed with a W.
I gripped Sunny’s hand. “I remember these. In the hallway. There used to be one over the mantle in the den, but then it was gone. They all disappeared.”
“That’s the one in the library, Linc. Your mother gave it to them. Mrs. Miller said you could have it back if you wanted.”
I gazed at the paintings. Pieces of my mother I didn’t even know existed. Small treasures. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “These would have gone when the house did,” I murmured. “I never would have known.” Another memory hit me. “I remember a pile of canvases. They were piled by the door and then gone the next day. He must have gotten rid of them. But he must have forgotten about these.”
“We could try to find them. Advertise. Check out secondhand shops in the local area. Abby is searching the entire house in case we find any more, but she wanted me to come to show you these right away.”
I stared at the canvases. “No. I would like to think someone else is enjoying her work.” I turned to Sunny, pulling her close. “What a gift you’ve given me. Even if we don’t find any others, these are such amazing things to be able to have.” I dropped a kiss to her head. “Thank you.”
She beamed up at me. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you, Sunny-girl.”
She wrinkled her nose with a smile. “I know.”
24
Linc
The next two weeks proved two things to me.
One—the fact that I thought I couldn’t love Sunny more was wrong. The more I got to know this Sunny—the calm, sweet, vibrant woman she had become—the harder I fell. Gone were the days of hiding and of fear. I could touch her, kiss her anytime I wanted. Show her my affection. Accept hers. I loved her independent streak, the way she handled herself with her business, and all the people that involved. I was proud to stand beside her on the weekends, making coffee, stealing cookies, gorging on biscuits. I wasn’t too proud to clear tables, help take out the trash, or do anything that made her life a little easier.
And I was well rewarded for it.
Which led to my second discovery. Leaving her behind was simply not an option. We had a brief discussion about me returning to Toronto, coming back on weekends. It sounded like a good idea until we decided on our future. I kissed her in the early morning dawn and headed into Toronto, comforted by the fact that I would see her in a few days.
But by three a.m. on the third night of not being able to sleep, I knew I was fucked. Without Sunny beside me, I couldn’t rest. And even with Abby in the office, I couldn’t concentrate, and neither could Abby. I didn’t even wait, driving back in the middle of the night. I left Abby a message, and by the morning, we were both back in Mission Cove, and neither of us planned on leaving for any great length of time.
The apartment over Sunny’s was now Abby’s. I’d planned to rent a hotel room for the sake of appearance, but Sunny had laughed and called me old-fashioned. She was right. No one cared, and I was happier with her. Abby felt safe in Mission Cove. Carl was back in jail and her mother had disappeared, but knowing Abby was among friends who would watch out for her when I wasn’t around gave me a sense of comfort I never thought I would get from the town of Mission Cove. Abby and Michael were growing closer, and we hoped they were able to help each other heal.
Another odd thing happened. As more people discovered who I was, there was no censure, no looks of dislike or distancing. I was surprised at the number of hugs I received, the welcome from people still living here that I used to know. Even odder, not a single person offered condolences on my father’s passing. Many of them spoke of my mother, and I was grateful to hear so many wonderful stories. It felt good to know her memory would live on here while my father’s terrible legacy died off, a mere whisper of the past. When they discovered the house was being taken down, there was a lot of excitement and curiosity about what would replace it. I kept my mouth shut, waiting for the final drawings to take to the town council on both matters. I wasn’t shocked when the mayor dropped in and told me he expected there to be no problem with my proposals. I had sat with him and his wife and laid out my plans, then left, allowing them to talk in private.