The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) by Tommie Conrad Page A

public display of recognition.  In the end, when the applause had faded, she mouthed a simple “thank you” and he nodded and smiled in understanding.
    “Thanks for coming,” Chandler acknowledged his grandparents a few minu tes later.
    “Not a problem, my boy,” John replied with a warm, aged smile.  “When I leave this Earth, I’m willing the painting back to you.”
    “Then I’ll have a long wait,” Chandler rejoined, “because you’re going to live to be a hundred.”
    “I hope so,” he sai d with a handshake.  “Goodbye, son.”
    “You might get sick of me,” Christina alerted him, “for I plan to be a frequent visitor.”
    “Never,” Chandler said, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.  “Drop by anytime you like.”
    “Sorry that we have to go, t oo, Chandler. It’s past Sam’s bedtime,” Susan joked.
    “Women,” Sam teased.  “Don’t ever get married if you can help it, son.”
    Chandler grinned.  “Nothing but decades of misery, huh?”
    Sam gazed at Susan lovingly.  “Exactly.”  Chandler shook his head and waited for his pa rents, each accompanied by a grandchild.
    Chase smiled.  “I’ll trad e you this one for five dollars.”
    Chandler examined the sleepyhead.  “Little Chase?  Is he worth five dollars?”
    “Per pound,” he joked.   “Good show today, son.  See you tomorrow.”
    “I’ll be t here,” Chandler said with a nod.  “Goodnight.”
    “Do you have a kiss for me?” Bryn asked softly.  Bree was sleeping in her arms.  Chandler knelt down and pecked her on the cheek.
    “Always.  Goodnight, Mom.”
    CJ was next to stop by, Max slumbering on his broad shoulder.  “This one ain’t mine,” he said with a grin, “but he fits pretty well in my arms.”
    Chandler nodded.  “And good on you to give your sister a break.”
    CJ glanced downward affectionately.  “He sleeps like an angel.”  He met his brother’s eyes again. “Congrats, bro.  See you tomorrow.”
    “See ya.  Drive safe.”
    “I plan to make sure of that,” Alison promised with a smirk.  Chandler stooped to receive her kiss on his jawbone.  “Thanks again, kid.  I owe you.”
    “Your brother is my other business partner, so fair’s fair.”
    Mark held Matt in his the crook of his arm, and met Chandler with a firm handshake.  “Get some rest, bud.  See you bright and early tomorrow.” 
    Christa, arms mercifully unoccupied, gave her brother a huge hug.  “So proud of you, little brother.”
    Chandler winked at her.  “Those are fightin’ words, ma’am.  See you tomorrow.”  He expelled a lungful of air and smiled languidly at Taylor.  “Come here, please,” he said with a gentle motion of his hand.  Her feet were sore but she smiled back, grate ful for the day.  She raised one hand up to his elbow, probably a little too intimate but she was otherwise too tired to care.
    “What’s all of this about tomorrow?”
    “Oh,” he said apologetically.  “I’m going to be out at the ranch for a few days.  Probably doesn’t make much sense in the grand scheme of things but I’m going to take down and wrap all of the sold paintings tonight before bed.”
    Taylor frowned.  “Aren’t you tired?”
    “Adrenaline,” he replied.  “I’m just about too excited to sleep.”  His face lit up then, gratified, excited, and she was unprepared for what happened next.  His arm hooked her waist and he pulled her against the hard surface of his chest.  “Thank you,” he reiterated.  “I was a lost ball in high weeds when you showed up.”
    She was conscien tious not to grip his strong shoulders too firmly.  “You’re welcome.”  He released her, with what she deemed a trace of reluctance, and a startled silence fell between them.
    “About the paintings,” he mentioned inanely.  “I’ll stick the buyer info on them, leave them in a pile, and the delivery men will do all of the heavy lifting.  And Alison will be right next door if you require any