Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

experience.

      “You can tell me to stop being pushy,” he added with a sly grin. “It’s a bad habit, I know. I can be single-minded like that.”

      Grateful for the opportunity to delay addressing her attraction to him, she reached for her wine. “You’re driven. That’s not a bad thing.”

      “Driven sounds much better. Mom jokes I was born with a life plan in my hand.”

      “I bet she’s very proud of you.”

      RHYS TRIED NOT to grimace at Wren’s kind—and no doubt well-intended—words. If only it were true. His mother was proud of him; she just happened to prefer expressing that pride from a distance.

      “My family is complicated,” he said eventually.

      “Aren’t all families?” She shot him an empathetic look. “I don’t think ‘unconditional love’ is as cut-and-dried as people would like to believe.”

      “Or as equally handed out.”

      “I’m the sister of an aspiring doctor. I get it.” Her head bobbed slowly. “Who’s the golden child, brother or sister?”

      “Stepbrother.”

      “Ouch.”

      “I can’t hate the guy. We’ve been best friends since we were in elementary school. It was like one of those kids’ movies. His parents were divorced and my mother was a widow.” Part of him felt disloyal for spilling his family drama to Wren. He loved his family. But in the short space of time he’d known Wren he’d become comfortable around her. He trusted her. “When my mom married his dad I thought it was the best thing that could have happened. But it got difficult as the years went on.”

      She tucked her feet up under her and cradled the wineglass in both hands. Her cascading golden hair and long, flowing skirt made her look like a goddess who’d stepped off a canvas.

      “Why did things change?”

      “We got older. I started to understand the way the world worked.” He kneaded at the knots in the back of his neck. “You see, my dad was black but my mom’s white. And my stepfather and stepbrother are white, as well. Which meant I spent a lot of time being asked if I was adopted.”

      “That would be awful,” she said quietly.

      “Yeah, it’s tough enough being mixed. You feel like you don’t truly belong in either camp. And I wasn’t really bullied at school, but I was always on the fringe of things. Nothing I did ever got me into the inner circle of any group.” He rubbed his palms against his thighs. “What made it worse was that my mom only saw my dad when she looked at me. So after a while it seemed as if she stopped looking.”

      He’d never said that aloud to anyone before, never admitted that his mother had all but ignored his presence for a portion of his life. And the older he got, the worse it had become.

      When he looked back at old photos of his dad, he could see why. Despite the difference in the depth of their skin color, he had his father’s full lips and strong jaw. He had the same intense eyes and heavy brows. The same strong cheekbones and slightly too-big ears. Ears made for listening, his mother had called them once.

      It dawned on him then that this was why Wren’s painting had made such an impact on him. It wasn’t just that she’d been thinking about him, it was that she’d been looking at him. Acknowledging him.

      In her head he was real and present and alive.

      “I ended up moving to the city so I didn’t have to keep haunting her like that,” he said, shutting out his revelation.

      “You moved because you were haunting someone and I moved because I was being haunted. Can’t win, can we?” she asked with a shake of her head.

      “The reason you’re haunted, does it have something to do with the painting I saw?” He cleared his throat. “The one of the naked woman.”

      “My problem was about the paintings,” she said with an emphasis on the s. “I have a series of them. And, yeah, that’s part of the reason I left. My town wasn’t quite ready for something so ‘shocking’ as the naked body.”

      “I guess some of those towns can be quite conservative.”

      “Oh, I knew that. It’s the whole reason I never showed the paintings to anyone except a few people I trusted in the art community. But my ex found them and…he got pretty mad.”

      “Why the hell would he be mad about a couple of paintings?”

      “He thought I was going to cause a scandal.” She laughed, but the sound was hollow. Humorless. “He had grand plans to be a district attorney one day and eventually make a move into politics. He told me he couldn’t be with someone who was going to ruin his career with sinful, disgusting activities.”

      Rhys’s chest clenched. The pain in her voice was palpable. “Your ex is an idiot.”

      “It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d just dumped me and moved on. But oh no, Christian thought he’d been wronged, and he wanted to take me down a couple of pegs. Teach me a lesson.” Her jaw tightened. “He took photos of the paintings and showed them to people in town to make sure there was no chance any of my ‘filthy secrets’ could come back to bite him. I could never be the kind of woman he wanted by his side, but he also didn’t want anyone else to have me…so he made sure I was ‘damaged goods’ as far as the town was concerned.”

      Rhys blinked. “Are you serious?”

      “I wish I wasn’t. But that tells you a lot about our relationship,” she snorted.

      “And people really thought a few nude paintings were that bad?”

      “I didn’t really have the chance to tell my side of the story. Christian went to a few loud voices in the community and the rumors were all over town before I had the chance to do anything about it. He said he felt it was his ‘duty’ to make sure I wasn’t working with any children while I was creating pornographic material.”

      “I don’t even know what to say.” Rhys shook his head, trying to quash the anger that had bubbled up in him. “That’s ridiculous.”

      “Anyway, enough of my sob story.” A smile tugged at her lips. “It’s all in the past, and I’m here now.”

      But for how long? The question hung at the edge of his mind.

       Why can’t you stop planning the future for once and live in the now? Live in the now with her.

      “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

      Her dazzling smile kindled warmth in his chest. “And I’m glad you didn’t let me bleed out in the hallway.”

      “My first-aid skills are good, but I’ve got other skills that are better than that.”

      “You’re a fabulous cook, too.”

      Hunger gnawed at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

      Her pupils dilated, the black centers eating away at the rim of blue around them. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, causing her breasts to press against the thin tank top and reveal the faint shadow of her nipples. Her hand fluttered at her collarbone, toying with a thin necklace.

      She intoxicated him. The very sight of her was so addictive that he was already desperate for a taste, as though he knew just how delicious she would be.

      “I’ll do the dishes,” she said, standing and reaching for his plate. As she leaned over he could see that her blush extended down her neck and across her chest, coloring her skin with a rosy hue. “It’s only fair since you cooked.”

      She stacked the plates