Jay’s whole face transford. His eyes went dreamy, a soft smile spreading across his lips like he was seeing sothing beautiful far away.
"Maybe..." He sighed dramatically. "I an, I saw him and I thought—how can anyone be this handso? God, Bella, have you seen his blonde hair? It’s so silky. Like, actual comrcial-worthy silky. I play with his hair all the ti. All night, sotis. I can’t help it."
Bella grinned, propping her head on her hand.
"And his icy blue eyes," Jay continued, completely lost in his own world now. "Like glaciers. But warm glaciers? Is that a thing? They’re intense but also soft when he looks at . And his voice—" He actually shivered. "Oh my god, his voice. Deep. Smooth. Like warm honey. It’s my favorite sound in the world. I could hear him say my na over and over and never get tired of it."
"Jay! Jay!" Bella interrupted, laughing so hard tears pricked her eyes. "You’re getting very detailed now!"
Jay blinked, coming back to reality. He looked at her, then burst into laughter himself. "Hahaha! Sorry, sorry! Got carried away." He waved a hand, still grinning. "But for real though. He’s just... yeah."
Bella wiped her eyes, still giggling. "You have it bad."
"So bad." He nodded solemnly. "Terminal case."
They both dissolved into laughter again.
After a mont, Jay pointed at her. "Although, fair warning—I don’t want to hear you and my bro’s details. Like ever. Keep that to yourselves."
Bella’s face went bright red. "We weren’t—I wasn’t going to—"
"Good. Keep it that way." Jay pretended to zip his lips. "So things brothers don’t need to know."
Bella buried her face in the grass, mortified and laughing at the sa ti.
The chipmunks, long gone, were probably grateful they’d missed this conversation.
***
anwhile, in the study, Leo was losing his mind.
He stood before the easel, brush in hand, staring at the blank canvas like it had personally offended him. Tubes of paint lay scattered across the desk, expensive oils, acrylics, watercolors, everything Assistant 5 had delivered within the hour. Instruction books were piled nearby, so opened to pages with titles like "Beginner’s Guide to Painting" and "First Strokes Made Easy."
The tutorials had seed so simple.
Watching the videos on his phone, the artists made it look effortless. A stroke here. A blend there. Suddenly a beautiful flower appeared on the canvas like magic.
But now, facing the blank white rectangle, Leo felt sothing unfamiliar: inadequacy.
He dipped his brush in blue paint. Held it over the canvas. Stopped.
No. Blue was wrong. He wanted pink. Soft pink. Like the color of Bella’s cheeks when she blushed.
He cleaned the brush. Mixed colors, trying to find the right shade. Too dark. Too bright. Too... sothing.
Twenty minutes later, he had a small blob of acceptable pink on his palette.
Okay. Now the flower.
He touched brush to canvas.
And stared at the result.
It looked like a deford blob. Not a flower. Not anything recognizable. Just... a pink blob.
Leo’s jaw tightened.
He tried again. Another blob, slightly different shape.
Again. Again. Again.
The canvas now hosted a collection of sad, misshapen pink marks that looked nothing like the delicate flowers he imagined.
"How is this possible?" he muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice.
He watched another tutorial. The artist made it look so easy. A few curved lines. So shading. A beautiful rose appeared.
Leo tried again.
The result was worse.
He grabbed a rag and wiped the canvas clean, leaving only faint sars of pink. Then he sat back, staring at the empty white space, his hands clenched at his sides.
He could negotiate billion-dollar deals. He could command armies of n. He could stare down enemies without flinching.
But he couldn’t paint a simple flower for his wife.
The thought made sothing twist in his chest.
He wanted to give her sothing beautiful. Sothing that showed her he saw her, appreciated her, loved her. Sothing more than words, because words had failed him so many tis.
But this... this was impossible.
Leo ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He looked at the ruined canvas, at the scattered paints, at the mocking instruction books.
Then he thought of Bella.
Her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about Miss J’s painting. The way she’d looked so happy, so free, so full of light.
He wanted to be the reason for that light.
He picked up the brush again.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "One more ti."
He dipped the brush in pink. Stared at the canvas.
A flower. A simple flower. Light pink and white. For Bella.
He took a breath. Let it out. And started again.
***
When Bella finally left the garden and made her way back inside, the house was quiet. Evening had settled in, painting the halls in soft golden light through the windows.
She walked toward the bedroom, still smiling from her afternoon with Jay.
But when she opened the door, the room was empty.
No Leo. No sign of him anywhere.
She stood there for a mont, a small pang of disappointnt flickering in her chest. Then her eyes drifted to the wardrobe.
Sothing caught her attention.
She walked over and pulled open the drawer where she kept things she rarely used. And there, nestled among other forgotten items, was a small silk bag.
Bella’s breath caught.
She pulled it out, unzipped it slowly, and revealed the contents.
Pretty pink lingerie.
She’d bought it ages ago with Scarlett.
But now...
She bit her lip, a slow grin spreading across her face.
Let’s tease Leo. Just a little.
She grabbed the lingerie and hurried to the bathroom.
The shower was quick but thorough, warm water, scented soap, everything soft and fresh. She dried off, wrapped a towel around herself, and stared at her reflection.
You can do this.
She slipped into the lingerie.
The set was delicate, soft pink lace that curved and hugged her body in all the right places. A bralette that lifted and frad, with intricate patterns that teased without revealing everything. Matching panties that sat high on her hips, lace panels along the sides showing glimpses of skin.
She turned slowly, looking at herself in the mirror.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of nervousness and excitent. The pink against her skin made her look soft, warm, utterly inviting.
She looked... sexy.
Really, truly sexy.
Bella bit her lip, a small smile tugging at her mouth.
Leo had no idea what was waiting for him.
She ran her fingers through her damp hair, fluffing it slightly, letting it fall in soft waves around her shoulders. A touch of her favorite perfu, the one he always noticed.
Then she walked out of the bathroom and posed casually against the bedpost, waiting.
Her heart pounded.
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