My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 252

Chapter 252

I thought back. Past the recent years, pasf childhood, to the earliest memory I could find.

“I was three,” I said finally. “Maybe almost four. I was in the pack house garden-Mama’s garden with all the night-blooming flowers. And I was trying to draw them but my crayons weren’t the right colors and I was frustrated.”

“What happened?”

“Uncle Cas found me. Sat down on the grass even though he was wearing expensive clothes that would definitely get stained. Asked what was wrong.” I smiled slightly despite my anxiety. “I told him the crayons were wrong. That night-blooming flowers weren’t just white, they were silver and blue and purple all mixed together and my crayons couldn’t do that.”

“What did he say?”

“He said ‘then we need better art supplies.’ Took me to that art store downtown the fancy one that Mama said was too expensive. Let me pick out oil pastels and special paper and everything I wanted.”I paused. “Daddy was so mad when we got back. Said Uncle Cas had spent too much money on a three-year-old’s art supplies. But Uncle Cas just said ‘Grace is an artist. Artists need proper tools.””

“That sounds like him.” Connor’s hand was still stroking my hair. “What else?”

“He taught me to blend the colors. Showed me how to layer the oil pastels to get the silver-blue-purple I wanted. Sat with me in the garden for hours while I drew.” I could see it clearly now. “He didn’t treat me like a child throwing a tartrum about crayons. He treated me like-like an artist with a legitimate problem that needed solving.”

“He’s always treated you like that. Like your art matters. Like you matter.”

“Yeah.” The memory was helping. Grounding me in what was real instead of what I was imagining. “He’s been doing that for fifteen years. Treating my art like it’s important. Listening when I explain things. Being Uncle Cas instead of Lord Castellan.”

“He’s going to come back,” Connor said firmly. “Grace, Uncle Cas isn’t going to die hunting extremists. Not when he has a niece who needs him to look at her paintings and discuss Impressionism and sit on living room floors during family dinners.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I know that Lord Castellan has spent fifteen years being your uncle. Being part of this family. He’s not going to let Marcus Dane

or Elena Frost or any extremist take that away from him.” Connor pulled me closer. “Grace, he loves you. Not in some abstract

vampire lord way. In a real, actual, uncle-loves-his-niece way. That’s powerful. That matters.”

“Love doesn’t make you invincible—”

“No, but eleven centuries of experience combined with absolute determination to protect family makes fou pretty damn close.” He tilted my face up to look at him. “Grace, trust that Uncle Cas knows what he’s doing. Trust that he’ll come back. And in the meantime-sleep. Please. You can’t function on four days of no sleep and constant anxiety.”

“I’ve tried sleeping-”

“Then try harder. For me. For yourself. For Uncle Cas who’s going to be very upset if he comes back and finds out you made. yourself sick worrying about hin.”

Chapter 39

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I closed my eyes. Tried to quiet my brain. Tried to stop imagining Uricle Cas hurt or captured or worse.

Tried to remember instead-Remember fifteen years of oil pastels and Impressionism discussions and sitting on floors and being treated like an artist whose work mattered.”

Remember the vampire lord who’d chosen to be Uncle Cas. Who’d forgiven debts because farnily mattered more. Who’d fought terrorists and Council members and anyone who threatened the people he loved.

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Chapter 28