Page 36 of Fragile Hearts (Hibiscus Hearts #3)

When he pulls it off with an almost elaborate reveal, my hand goes to my mouth, the gasp falling from my lips completely unexpected.

“Nate,” I mutter, shocked to my core at just how perfect it is.

I gave him very little direction, but his talent has come through immensely, capturing Owen and me in a way I never could have imagined.

The painting is abstract with minimal colors, but the couple is very obviously Owen and me. Embracing, our arms wrapped around each other, my blonde hair mingling with Owen’s brown, our sun-kissed skin, the side of my breast exposed, Owen’s muscled bicep flexed.

“What do you think?” Nate now asks when I’m silent for too long, my eyes unable to take it all in. “Let Owen know I never saw you naked. Took some creative liberties and a few guesses,” he jokes.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what to say.” The words are stilted because it’s true. I’m at a loss for words at just how talented Nate is.

“Well, say something,” Nate barks out. “I’m worried you hate it.” He chuckles nervously, and I shake my head.

“No, it’s…it’s…amazing. More than I could ever picture. Thank you so much.”

Walking over to him, I stop, waiting for him to give me permission to hug him, and he rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“Fine, hug me,” he concedes, and I do just that, pulling him into my arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s what we do for friends,” he says, a hint of emotion tugging at his words. “We came out on the other side, Sloane. We made it.” He doesn’t have to elaborate on what he means; his words bury themselves deep inside me. We share a common bond, one I wish we didn’t, but he’s right.

We made it.

“How much do I owe you?” I ask him, and he lets out a hard sigh. “Don’t you dare say I don’t owe you because this is a business, and we might be friends, but I’m paying for this. All your time. All the effort and the thought you put into this. Come on, Nate, don’t be shitty.”

He laughs hard, shaking his head. “Who the hell are you?” His brows are narrowed as he glares at me. “You would have never been this assertive before. You kinda shocked me.”

“And you’re kinda annoying me by not saying how much I owe you.”

“Fine. Two hundred?” It’s said like a question, and I get that this is the first time he’s done something like this, but that feels way too low.

“Nate, seriously?” I reply with conviction.

“Yeah, seriously. You’re my first paying client besides the boards I do for Olsen. I don’t know what to charge.”

“Okay, we’ll go with two hundred, but you damn well better up that price when you become fucking famous on this island.”

“Noted.”

Nate helps me load the painting into the back of Owen’s SUV, again covering it with the tarp to protect it. Mochi barks loudly, demanding Nate’s attention. Such a spoiled little shit.

Once it’s fully seated in the back, protected and ready, I head to the driver’s side, climbing in as Nate walks around to the passenger side to greet Mochi.

I roll down the window, letting Nate get in a few pets before I head back to the house.

Just as I pull into the driveway, my phone chimes with a text from Owen.

Owen: Where you at, babe?

Me: Meet me out front right now.

A few seconds later, Owen is coming out the front door, just a pair of boardshorts on, minus the T-shirt as usual. It makes me laugh thinking about how he would be shirtless everywhere if it were acceptable. It’s something I love about him.

“Driving my car, huh?” he says as he opens the passenger door and plucks Mochi from the seat.

“I love your big SUV, but I needed it for something. I hope that’s okay.”

“With you, everything is always okay,” he replies, smiling, and I walk over and kiss him softly.

“There’s something in the back. Something big. Go put Mochi in the house, and I’ll help you get it out,” I tell him, and he narrows his eyes at me, a questioning look on his face.

But he does what I ask, meeting me back outside, and I open the back of the SUV to reveal the tarp-covered canvas.

“What is this?”

“It’s for you,” I whisper, leaning into his side.

“I wanted to have something made for you from me. Something that shows you how much you mean to me. You have everything in the world, so it was a little tough to come up with something, but this is it.” That last line is said with a playful quality, and Owen lets out a chuckle.

I motion to the oversized item and then put my hands on the end to begin removing it, and Owen follows suit.

“Don’t take the tarp off till we’re inside,” I all but demand, and he nods his agreement, silently carrying it into the house.

Once we’re in, leaning it against the couch, I remove the tarp, revealing what Nate has created.

Owen’s eyes go wide, and he looks at me and then back at the painting.

“It’s us,” I tell him, my heart hammering so hard in my chest that I can feel it everywhere.

“I know it’s us. It’s gorgeous, babe.”

Walking over to me, he pulls me into his arms, holding me to him. I melt against him, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Perfect.

“I wanted something to show how much I love you,” I say, my head resting against his chest, his chin dropping to the top of my head. “Nate captured us in a way I could never put into words.”

“I love it,” Owen whispers, his fingers coming to rest under my chin, tipping my face up to look at him now. “And I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”