Gilded Lily(86)

“I missed you too, Adam.”

“I’m never going to leave you again.”

* * * *

Lily spun around, taking in the gallery that Nicholas had always spoken of as if it were some sacred shrine. The last time she’d been in New York, it was to say good-bye to her dear friend. This time it was to honor his memory with an exciting opening of his beautiful artwork.

“And this one?” Tom asked, startling Lily from her thoughts. “This is on your property?”

“Yes. I haven’t been down to see the garden shacks in a long time, but Nicholas spent a great deal of time in those little shacks. When I was little, my grandma and I would plant flowers in the meadow. She always had a big garden surrounded by marigolds and snapdragons. It was like a huge rainbow spreading across the grass. Now I’m sure it’s a field of weeds.”

“I see.” He turned to Lily and smiled. “He’d have been so proud of his brother.” The twinkle in his eye was gone as sadness crept into its space. “I almost lost both of my boys.”

Lily took his hand into hers. “Nicholas was very special. He had a laugh that could make my heart sing. He was kind and generous, just like his older brother.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’ve raised two wonderful men. I’ve been so lucky to have known both of your sons.” She flashed him a warm smile.

He patted her hand, the silent gesture revealing everything he wasn’t able to say.

“Are you trying to flirt with her, Dad?” Adam’s deep voice rang out from behind them.

Tom’s boisterous laugh made Lily laugh also. “Son, I’ll flirt with anyone I want to. And by the way, this one is worth flirting with.” Tom winked at her before releasing her hand.

Lily turned around. Adam was standing by the wall where the painting of her porch swing was hanging. He’d gone back to his apartment to get ready after finalizing everything for the evening. Lily caught her breath at the sight of him.

His broad shoulders were encased in a well-fitted black suit jacket. The trousers hung perfectly against his long legs. Lily knew what was hiding underneath the tailored affair and had to keep herself from kneeling right there.

The crimson shirt under the dark jacket made for a sexy contrast in colors. He hadn’t worn a tie, leaving the top three buttons open. For her? To tease her? God, he had been carved by Michelangelo’s hands. The musky scent of his sandalwood cologne wafted through the crisp air of the gallery. Thank God she wore underwear. The wetness seeped from her little space. She shifted her feet, trying to squelch the mounting desire to touch herself.

His moved his gaze up and down her body. Was he examining her the same way she was him? It made her stir even more. He ran his long fingers through his thick, dark hair. He must have just stepped out of the shower. His hair was still glistening damp, making its rich color turn an eerie shade of blue. Lily fought the urge to tangle her fingers through it.

She was going to crumble right here before his father. How embarrassing! Do something. She had to move, fast.

“Everything looks great, son. Lily tells me Nick painted the things he most enjoyed on her estate.”

Adam cleared his throat. He’d been exploring her. Good, she thought. She shouldn’t be the only one feeling the torture. “Yes, he did. He really liked living there, with Lily I mean.”

“It shows. I think I’m going to buy a couple for the office. Charlene likes the one with the garden shacks.”

“Huh? Oh, the garden shacks, yeah,” Adam said as Lily flashed him a seductive grin. “I think Nick spent a lot of time in them.”

Tom pointed to the painting. “Have you seen them?”

“Uh, yeah.” Adam stalked closer to Lily.

Her breath hitched.

“I went down there when I first arrived at her estate. They’re haunted.”

“Really, you don’t say?” Tom teased.

“Nick wrote about it on the back of the painting.”

They followed Adam to another small room where the painting was displayed on the white wall. The dark hues of the oils were in startling contrast to the brilliance of the wall. The dilapidated condition of the small buildings made the vibrant flower garden look fresh and new. Nicholas had captured every vein in the leaves on the roses, every crack in the tin porch roof. The painting made a person want to walk into the canvas, to experience this magical place where the new growth of a thriving meadow gave hope to the muted browns and reds of the worn-down buildings.

Adam lifted the painting from the support hook and turned it over. “See.” Tom and Lily leaned in to read the inscription.



The haunted shacks live independently from her soul,