Page 47 of The Focal Point

“I’m not sure I’m dressed right for this,” I said, one hand going to the pendant he had bought for me from the gallery—I never took it off.

Confusion crossed Liam’s face as he glanced down at me. “What?”

“Everyone looks so expensive,” I murmured, my gaze on a gown I had seen in a fashion magazine the month before, which meant I knew exactly how much it cost.

“Bailey, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You look amazing. You’re the most beautiful woman here—and the sexiest.”

I licked my lips, belatedly realizing I had probably just smudged the lipstick I had touched up in the car, my gaze on the back of the woman in the designer gown as she disappeared inside the museum.

“Bailey.”

Liam was watching me with a soft smile as I dragged my gaze away from her to him.

“You look incredible tonight. But more than that, I’m just happy to be here with you. I asked you to come so I could spend time with you.” His hand closed around mine and squeezed, and I could have fallen into the look of affection in his dark eyes. “Okay?”

Nodding, I let Liam pull me into the museum and the gala. It was one of the most elegant and swankiest affairs I had ever been to, everyone dressed in their best and servers wandering around with trays of champagne and canapes.

But it was also romantic, with a live band, an incredible dinner, and dancing. As it turned out, Liam was an excellent dancer, a point to which he credited his mother.

“All her kids learned to dance, especially the boys. My dad didn’t have a single sense of rhythm, and she wanted to ensure we didn’t have the same issue.”

I had laughed, and Liam had grinned before sweeping me onto the floor for another song.

We took a break from dancing to wander our way over to the gallery with the items for auction, an assortment of paintings and sculptures. It was all nice to look at, but nothing caught my interest until we came across a small canvas, this one an impression of two people together, intertwined in a way that was unending and to me seemed full of hope and love and connection.

“Wow,” I said, echoing Liam’s earlier show of appreciation.

“You like that?” Liam had moved to the next piece, this one a sculpture, but he walked back to rejoin me.

“I love it.” Something about the movement and the colors spoke to me and pulled at my heart—I wasn’t even sure why, except something in me responded to how the two curving outlines of the figures melded into one.

Liam waited patiently while I took in the image for a few moments longer, then we moved on. As we returned to our seats, I hadn’t forgotten about the painting, but I thought he had. But his first bid on the outrageously priced piece told me he hadn’t.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, grabbing his arm as though that would stop him from raising it as the auctioneer called out numbers that grew increasingly ridiculous.

“I’m buying the painting,” Liam replied, eyebrows meeting in confusion as to why I was confused.

“You can’t buy it,” I pleaded, clinging to his arm hard enough he had to raise his other one to put in his next bid.

“I can and I will. I’m not going to let this guy win now.” The guy was someone across the room who countered every one of Liam’s bids as the price spiraled ever higher. I was considering leaving the room so I didn’t have to hear the final price when Liam offered a last bid, to which the other man shook his head, bowing out gracefully.

Liam had won the bidding war, but I couldn’t believe how much he had paid for the painting. And yet, as he handed me the winning voucher, I couldn’t help but feel touched. Liam didn’t love-bomb me, showering me with unwanted gifts and attention. Instead, he went out of his way to make my day brighter and occasionally buy me things that I could never imagine affording but that he knew I loved. Like the painting and the necklace.

The thought warmed me to the core, some emotion I had yet to acknowledge growing that much larger.

Instead of following the feeling down to a place I wasn’t ready to go yet, I kissed Liam on the cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You liked the painting, so I bought it for you.” Liam said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and I chuckled as I nuzzled his cheek.

“Well, maybe I can show you how appreciative I am back at your place.” I murmured the words into his ear and felt him stiffen under my hands.

“I would be amenable to that,” he replied, turning his head to look into my eyes.

Our hands stayed firmly entwined the entire ride back to his place.

“You know,” I joked as we got out of his car, “I’m going to think something is up if you keep buying me things.”

Liam’s hand missed his pocket, and the keys dropped to the floor with a clatter. His laugh was weak as he bent over to pick them up, his smile thin and crooked. I noted the response but didn’t have much time to ponder the reason behind it because, recovering quickly, Liam pulled me into his arms and covered my mouth with his.