“It’s better if it is, but it doesn’t have to be. My favorite works are emotional ones. Come on, let me show you the pieces I made with my mother,” Emily said as she started walking again. The room she led them into was filled with prints of famous paintings and small sculptures of a part or all of what was in the painting. “These were some of my earliest ones. There was a purpose to them. As you know, my mother was born blind so she had no way of experiencing these works outside of having them described to her. In trying to find a solution for her, I found my passion. I’d love something that represents your own journey. You could do something about being a twin . . .”
Willa tensed and would have stepped back if Lance’s hand wasn’t still on her lower back. Without thinking about how it would sound, she spilled out what she was thinking. “Being a twin doesn’t define me.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and she instantly looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean to imply that it did, but it’s part of who you are.”
Wishing she’d held her reaction in, Willa backpedaled. “Sorry, it’s just that—”
“You want to be your own person,” Lance said near her ear.
He understands. Willa nodded gratefully. She thought about what Emily had said about comparison killing creativity and couldn’t help but see how it had also shaped her relationship with her sister. I’ve always compared myself to her. Is that what’s killing our relationship? Willa remembered the last few conversations she’d had with Lexi and realized she’d judged Lexi just as harshly. She pressed her lips together then said, “Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.” There was also the wonder of having someone who was so close to you, you could feel their pain or joy as your own. Or, at least, that’s how it used to be when they were children. They’d lost that magic somewhere along the way, except in those rare instances when they were both excited about the same thing and they could finish each other’s sentences. Even though Willa wanted to find herself, she missed that connection. Complicated.
Looking on sympathetically, Emily said, “If you represent what you’re feeling right now in some concrete fashion, you’ll have your masterpiece.”
“I don’t know if it would be a masterpiece, but I’ll do it, Emily. I’d be honored to make something for your museum. You’ve inspired me.” Willa meant it. Emily had laid down a challenge, and Willa admired Emily more, if that were even possible. She smiled at Lance, grateful he’d brought her. He’d said he liked the man he was when he was with her. Well, she liked the woman she was when she was with him. Even though she fluctuated between being deliriously happy and scared shitless, it was better than the bland existence she’d convinced herself she preferred. I closed so much of myself off, telling myself it was the only way to survive. I didn’t realize how much I’d lost along the way.
Lance leaned down and whispered, “If you need a nude model . . .”
And just like that, Willa was smiling and laughing again. “You are so bad.” She lost herself for a moment in his dark eyes.
Unrepentant, Lance shot her a lusty smile. “Or I could draw you.”
“And that’s the end of today’s tour,” Emily chirped in with a chuckle. “I’ll be right back, then if you want we can drive over to your parents’ place together.”
Lance agreed while Willa fought back a mild panic. I’m going to the Barrington home as Lance’s . . . date? As his what? Girlfriend? Soon to be lover? Hi, Sophie and Dale. What’s up? We thought we’d come over and see you before we run away and fuck like bunnies for a few days. In fact, could you pass the potatoes faster? Lance’s words from the night before came back and echoed through Willa. “I want to take my time. I want to fall asleep inside you because we came so many times we couldn’t move. Then I’ll wake up and start my day by tasting that sweet pussy of yours again.” Willa shivered and got wet just thinking about the feel of his tongue delving into her sex.
Oh my God, I’m losing it.
“What are you thinking?” Lance asked.
Willa chewed her bottom lip. Nothing I should say here. Willa glanced at her watch, more to refocus herself than to actually check the time. How long until we’re alone? “What time is dinner?”
“Early. Right after this?” Lance asked, looking like he was trying to decipher a message sent in code, then he smiled and slid his hand along the curve of her neck and pulled her face closer to his. “When you look at me like that I don’t care about anything but this.” His mouth came down and plundered hers. Willa arched forward against him, loving how hard and ready he was. Their tongues met and danced hungrily. She ran her hands greedily over his chest. He half lifted her and walked forward until her back was to the wall. With one hand kneading her jean-clad ass, he ground against her, moving his bulging erection back and forth against her crotch in a way that had them both moaning.