Mari's heart pounded like a drum. Her eyes were wide and wet as she gazed at Jax, unable to wrap her head around the fact that Jax was the one who had been sending the paintings to her all this while.
She felt her knees weaken. She had to sit again or she might fall.
"You look like you're going to faint. Come sit," Jax said, leading her back to her seat.
Mari followed him wordlessly, and sat down, placing the sketchbook on the island.
She looked back down at the drawings. Her throat tightened, and her lips parted like she wanted to speak but no sound came.
She traced one sketch, the soft lines of her face, her hair falling across her cheek. The way he'd caught her laughter and the mischief in her eyes like he'd captured it in his heart.
Jax took the seat next to her, "I've never seen you this speechless."
A broken laugh escaped her lips. She pressed her palm to her forehead, then her chest, as if trying to hold her racing heart still.
