Page 3 of Forbidden Bliss
My fists clench at my sides as I watch the car disappear down the dusty road.
She’s not leaving me again. Not gonna happen. I jump in my Lambo and the roar of the engine comes to life.
Coming here should have been simple. The task was to locate the elusive artist, hear their story, and purchase more of their work for my collection. But now everything has changed.
I’ve spent years trying to forget Willow, filling the void with business and art investments. But seeing her now has cracked open that hollow place in my chest, exposing the raw wounds I’ve worked hard to bury.
Now that I’ve found her, I won’t make the mistake of letting her go. She will be mine once again.
Chapter 2
Willow
Mybrushmovesinbroad, confident strokes as the sky-blue color spreads across the canvas like a living thing. Meanwhile, I lose myself, the colors and textures absorbing all my focus.
Each stroke breathes life into the Sierra Nevada mountains and every sweep of my hand brings the snow-capped peaks to life as the world outside fades away.
Lana’s laughter breaks through my focus when she stands and holds up a painting of little handprints in reds and yellows. “Mama, look!”
As warmth floods my chest, I smile and check out her creation up close. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Just like you.”
Lana beams and returns to smearing paint with careless joy. She looks so much like her father. Her happiness is contagious, and there’s a strong bond between us. It’s a golden thread that ties us together in this high-tech log house we call home.
The massive house, situated just outside the town of Blushing Creek in the Sierra Nevada, is a masterful blend of rustic charm and modern technology.
From the outside, it’s a traditional log cabin with weathered wooden logs, a stone chimney, and a wrap-around veranda that offers stunning views of the surrounding mountains.
Inside, the home has innovative technology in every space. It’s an ideal environment for creativity and productivity.
I pull in a breath as I relax in my chair and take a sip of iced tea. This is the life. I live for these moments, when it’s just me and Lana enjoying the freedom of creation.
The art studio room door swings open, and Hunter’s dominating figure fills the doorway, his broad shoulders stretched taut against the fabric of his crisp, white t-shirt. Army green cargo pants hug his muscular legs, a testament to his strength and capabilities.
“Willow. I’m heading out for my night watch shift.” Hunter’s ocean blue eyes survey the room before settling on Lana and me. The furrow of his brows and the tightness of his jaw is a telltale sign of his protective nature towards us. “Lock up after I leave. There’s been talk of an outsider in town.”
My lips press together. I know exactly who he’s talking about, but I play dumb and ask for more details. “Hmm. Who’s in town?”
Hunter arches a masculine brow. “Just be careful.”
With a last look, he leaves, and Lana runs off to play in her room.
I return to my painting, but tension spreads across my arms and my brush stops for a fraction of a second.
He’s talking about Tristan.
How does his security team already know about him?
My pulse quickens, the familiar ache of the past stirring deep within me. Tristan always had a way of making waves and turning heads, but I never imagined he’d show up in Blushing Creek, of all places.
This town was supposed to be my sanctuary, a place where I could leave the memories behind and bury the heartache. But with just one look at him, it’s all rushing back—every stolen kiss, every whispered promise, and every moment I had tried to forget.
I can’t afford to get lost in the past. Not again. Not when I’ve fought so hard to move forward and build a life for myself. No, I won’t let him unravel everything I’ve built. I can’t.
Yet, the tremor in my hand tells me it might already be too late.
A knock on the door startles me, and I freeze as my paint brush halts mid-stroke. Setting the brush down, I walk to the door. When I open it and see Tristan standing there, my breath hitches.
Tristan stands on the deck, his dark hair whipped by the wind into messy waves, adding to his statuesque appearance.