After a month of being on edge, my nerves had calmed to a point where I wasn’t in this obsessed and, as Carmen had noted, extremely unhealthy attachment to Dad’s heart illness. I got my butt back to work. I needed it, and everyone around me needed it.
Dr. Mitchell’s words haunted me, but I’d fucked everything up with him that day. After being insistent on not taking his help in getting back to Dad, and going off on him for what was just anger toward myself, I never wanted to face that man again. I was a total idiot, and still, the man was amazing toward Dad. Dad and Carmen saw him once a week, and there were times when Dr. Mitchell would even call to check in between his office patients. He truly was the best guy for Dad’s condition, and I slapped him in the face for it.
I hadn’t seen him since that day, letting Carmen accompany Dad to his doctor’s appointments instead. Carmen and I’d had a lot of fun discussions about her childhood, growing up in Mexico, her family, and her life. She was a fascinating woman, and I started to take note of a more intimate bond she was sharing with Dad. I hadn’t seen him this happy in far too long. She gave him his youth back—if not physically, mentally. I loved listening to them interact, and I truly loved her care for both of us. I swear to God that if Carmen wasn’t in our lives, I’d need a therapist.
With her encouragement, I was able to return to work. It had been a month of impressive sales for the gallery, and I couldn’t be more excited to return to my passion for painting and sculpting again. I’d been painting out in our garage, letting the brush strokes against the canvas fuel me into bringing any ocean inspiration to life. Lately, I found myself obsessed with the ocean—the waves, the surf, sand, all of it. The pastels were my favorite recently, and who knew, maybe one day, I’d finally have the guts to open my own gallery like the one I was working for and share my art with anyone who could appreciate it.
I walked around the floor and saw two men staring at a famous ocean print. This section was my absolute favorite, and mostly where I was inspired to find the serenity of painting the majesty and beauty of the vast sea realm.
“A million-and-a-half, and there aren’t even any waves, not to mention turtles,” I heard a man’s voice scoff in humor.
The two tall men stood in the usual expensive suits that typically graced this fancy gallery. Both were dark-haired, and from standing behind them, facing the one portrait I loved most, I could tell they were easily attractive, but spoiled rich boys. Yes, we had plenty of those—those and the pretentious snobs who stared down their noses at everyone else.
“That’s one of my favorite portraits,” I said, not looking at their reaction. I waved my fingers over the brush strokes. “It’s the craft and talent in the brushstroke that captures multiple colors against the canvas. It’s abstract, yes; however, this artist has a way with his brush that brings the image he sees in his mind alive.”
“And the reason brush strokes on canvas are worth over a million bucks?”
My heart leapt into my throat when I realized the voice belonged to Dr. Mitchell. Holy fucking hell.
I dared to look at the two men. One of them was smiling, and he could have been Dr. Mitchell’s twin, except for the green eyes and cleft in his chin. His hair was longer, though, and in a wavy style of authority, and Dr. Mitchell’s was the still the short and sexy messed-too-perfection style.
“It’s not just the strokes,” I said, shuffling for an answer after my mind went blank.
He came back with the Mitch I knew in San Francisco look. The smirk, glint in his eyes, and his hands sliding confidently into his pockets.
“I disagree.” He arched his eyebrow at me. “I feel that if it’s going to cost me a million bucks for some strokes, it’d better be something I want to see every day for the rest of my life.”
His friend—twin—brother?—looked at him. “Can we please focus, Jake?” he asked in annoyance and looked at me. “Sorry about him.”
Goddamn, there are two sexy gods in this room together?
“Don’t worry.” I smiled at the guy. “I’m Ashley,” I said, seeing the man’s eyes widen as if I had just spilled a drink on him.
He recovered the look of shock. “Ashley.” He nodded. “Because my brother has insulted one of your favorite pieces, I’ll buy this one for his home and continue to search for another for mine.”
“James!” My lively boss clicked her heels as she scurried over to where we were. “James Mitchell, I thought I’d never see you come into my gallery.”
“Excuse me.” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Ashley. Perhaps Lillian can point me in a direction with darker colors, fewer pastels?”
“Ashley can tend to your brother.” She smiled at the doctor. “Dr. Mitchell.” She nodded and said with a flirty voice, “Nice to see you again.”
“Wish the feeling were mutual.” He chuckled.
“Where are the more current pieces?” James asked my boss.
“Right through this hall. I have those I was texting you about…” their voices trailed off while I was left to stare in awe into his ocean-blue eyes.
“How are you and your father faring?” he asked.
“Listen,” I said, taking his arm and pulling him to the side. “I don’t even know where to begin to apologize for everything I did that morning in the hotel. To sincerely thank you for everything you did and continue to do for my father. I was horrible, and I’m so sorry.”
“She begs my forgiveness?” He looked down into my eyes.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“I am too,” he responded.
“I just want to clear it up. I’m truly sorry. I don’t know how else to tell you how apologetic I am.”
“Date me,” he said.
“What?”
“Let me take you out. I want to meet Ashley Taylor for real and have a normal interaction with her,” he said and then reached his hand out to mine. “My name is Jacob. Most call me Jake.”
I laughed, placing my hand in his firm, yet soft one. “I’m Ashley. Most call me Ash.”
“Someone mentioned that it was Annie…something or other?” He arched an eyebrow at me.
“Someone mentioned your name was Mitch?” I lifted my chin.
“Mitch?” He chuckled. “That would be some douche bag who made the biggest mistake of his life.”
“Oh?” I played along. “How so?”
“He let the most beautiful woman he’d ever met go—one who, he mentioned, was the best sex of his life.”
“Wow,” I said, my heart racing. “That sucks for him.”
“Rumor has it, he hasn’t gotten that night out of his mind in over a year, and trying to has fucked him over more than once.”
“Damn.” I covered my mouth.
“Yep.” He sighed dramatically, then smiled. “That date, I will get on my knees here and now and beg you for it if you’d like.”
I laughed at his silliness. “Shut up. I’d love to. Carmen will be happy to learn I’ve actually gone out with someone since being back to work.”
“She’s mentioned that to me.”
“Breaking the doctor-patient relationship, eh?”
“You made it clear I wasn’t your doctor,” he countered. “What can I say? I was worried about you. I asked my favorite nurse how you were doing—it seems she and I both agreed that you needed to move forward.” He smiled, and now my insides were going crazy for this man like they did in San Francisco. “You’re doing a fantastic job of that. Now, I must ask, what has you working for the most ridiculous bitch in her art gallery?”
“I needed the money?” I laughed, knowing he was right, but Lillian also was more than understanding about Dad in the hospital too. “She also held my job for me while Dad was sick. Also, I love the artists who have work on display here.”
“Interesting,” he said. “And so, she loves art.”
“It’s my passion,” I answered.
“Perhaps you’ll be quite thrilled when you see your favorite portrait hanging on my wall, courtesy of my brother, of course.”
“Is this another invitation to your home, Doctor?”
“Jake,” he corrected me, “and yes. Actually, if you desire to see the print again, you’ll have to be lying on my bed.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Lying on your bed?”
“Yeah, to ensure the million-dollar strokes are on display in an ideal fashion.”
“You’ve lost it.” I laughed, hearing my boss and his brother coming back.
He licked his lips. “I’ll get your cell number from Carmen; are you okay with that?”
“That’s fine.”
“We’ll arrange something then. What time are you out of here?”
“Tonight?”
“Indefinitely,” he said with a sigh. “Of course, tonight.”
“Five.”
“You comfortable with me picking you up tonight?” he asked.
“Um, my—”
“I’ll swing you by your house. We’ll check on your father together, and then perhaps I can have the rest of the night with you.”
“You think of everything, don’t you?”
“I’ve had nothing else to think about other than trying to see you again.” He went to step away. “I do hope you aren’t working tomorrow either. I have the entire day off and would love to have you wake up in my arms—this time, I’m not letting you leave like before.”
Chills covered my body, and I stood there in shock that this was happening again. Seriously, what the hell did I do to gain this man’s attention? I watched as he and his brother walked out of the front atrium and disappeared outside. Both men commanded the area. It was like, together, they could run the country or something.
I had to thank Carmen for this freedom. Something also told me I had to thank Jake too. All I knew for sure was that if he kept looking at me tonight the way he did just now, I might just have to wake up in his arms and see just how my day off tomorrow would work out.
