Leighton held Andy’s hand and admired the exquisite painting while Kalyssa practiced pirouettes on the other side of the room. The life-sized female nude faced three-quarters away. She held a tall rod, and drapery gathered around her feet. From the composition Casey had chosen, Leighton wouldn’t have recognized herself as the model if she hadn’t known.
A blue ribbon beside the painting announced its first-place status. Leighton had expected the win. While Leighton still painted and garnered success by anyone’s standards, Casey had been winning every event she entered for the better part of a year. The magazines that featured her paintings took up half a shelf on their bookcase.
She deserved the recognition. Ever since they’d become a couple and moved in together, Casey’s magic with a brush had returned. Apparently, she was one of those artists who needed to be happy to create beautiful things. Her monetary awards had been helpful, too. Casey’s winnings and their combined gallery sales had put Atelier Vaughn back in the black.
Andy assessed the painting, his head cocked to the side. “She’s not wearing any clothes.”
Not that her nudity embarrassed her—she looked damn fine—but Andy didn’t need to know she was the model. “No, she’s not. Some artists believe the female body is the ultimate form of beauty.”
He screwed up his face even more. “Does Momma?” His personality hadn’t changed a bit in the three years she’d known him.
“She does, and so do I.”
Andy huffed and pulled at the collar of his suit jacket. “This is itchy, Mom.”
Leighton looked at the red welt on the back of his neck. “It’s the tag, baby. You can take it off. We’re almost finished.”
Kalyssa spun into Leighton’s personal space, her dress swirling around her slender legs as she came to a stop. “Andy, let’s go climb the marble steps.”
“Don’t go too far.” Leighton’s heart did a little leap as they ran off. They’d formed a relationship somewhere between best friends and brother and sister. It was far more than she could’ve hoped.
Casey entered the gallery. Leighton never tired of watching her cross a room, especially when she looked so beautiful, her hair blown straight and her makeup subtle yet striking. Beauty aside, Leighton still marveled at her determination, talent, intelligence, kindness, and bravery.
Leighton’s failed marriage had convinced her she’d never give her heart to anyone again. Yet there it was, walking toward her. She was so in love she could barely breathe.
“Did you find the restroom all right?” She touched the small of Casey’s back.
Casey nodded. “Yes, it just takes me a hot minute to deal with this dress.”
They faced her painting. Leighton put an arm around her shoulders, and Casey curled hers around her waist.
Leighton tapped her lower lip. “It’s wonderful, you know. The lines of her hips and shoulders lead the viewer through the painting, and the curvature of the drapery brings your eye back around. The softness of your edges over here and the lost edges in this passage—it’s stunning.” She looked at her. “I once said I worried there was nothing more I could teach you.”
Casey chuckled. “I remember.”
Leighton narrowed her eyes. “I hate being right all the time.”
A crease formed between Casey’s brows. “You’re not.”
Leighton put a hand on her hip. “Do you have a specific instance in mind?”
“I do.” Casey lifted her chin.
Leighton lifted Casey’s hand. “I was right that you’d want a platinum band and an oval cut so the diamond didn’t catch on your clothing.” She touched the ring.
Casey’s dimples appeared. “Yes, in that singular instance, you were right.”
Leighton loved their verbal sparring that never turned out to be serious. “Just tell me the one time I was wrong instead of making me guess.”
“Ha! One time.” Her eyes sparkled. “Running late didn’t allow me to tell you everything about my appointment today.”
Leighton flinched. To her dismay, she’d been called for jury duty and couldn’t accompany her. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes.” Casey pressed Leighton’s hand to her stomach. “You thought we’re having a girl, but we’re not. We’re having a boy.” She smiled widely, and her eyes shone.
Leighton sucked in a breath. She’d never been so happy to be wrong. Her wife was pregnant with their son. Their other son attended kindergarten, and their daughter spent her time obsessed with ballet and boys, though perhaps not in that order. “A boy.” Tears obscured her vision.
“Yes, my love, a boy.” Casey kissed her, soft and tame but full of emotion. “We’re having a boy. You, me, and our three children. Can you believe it? We’ll need to add a fourth floor if our little family keeps growing.” Her infectious smile lit the room.
Leighton held her close. “We need to tell Aileen and Maxine, but I want to wait a bit before we send them into new grandma-mode again. Let’s celebrate this between us for a few days.”
“I’d like that.” Casey cupped her cheek before giving her a quick peck. “Now, please take me home so I can change out of this dress and kick off these heels.”
Home. The building where they’d met, where they taught what they loved, and where they raised their family. The place where Leighton had almost lost Casey. Instead, they’d built a beautiful life inside, a life Leighton wasn’t sure she’d ever have.
Once upon a time, Leighton had believed Casey to be the missing piece that would bring success to her atelier, but how wrong she’d been. Casey had come to mean so much more. She’d been everything Leighton had been missing in her life.
As she took Casey’s hand and led her out of the gallery in search of the children, Leighton wondered exactly how many bedrooms they could fit on a potential fourth floor.