Bella pulled back, still holding his face. "Thank you. For trying. For making me something. For caring this much."
Leo's eyes softened. "It's a terrible painting."
"It's a wonderful painting. And I'm going to frame it and put it somewhere I can see it every day."
"You're not."
"I absolutely am."
He groaned, but she saw the smile he was trying to hide.
Bella settled more comfortably in his lap, the lace of her lingerie pressing against his wrinkled shirt. "Now. Tell me about your artistic process. Did you yell at the canvas? Throw brushes? Consider firing your art teacher?"
"I don't have an art teacher."
"Maybe you need one."
"I have tutorials."
Bella snorted. "Tutorials?"
"They seemed easy." His jaw tightened at the memory. "They lied."
She laughed again, the sound filling the study, chasing away the shadows of his earlier frustration.
