Page 44 of Searching for Bristol
“It’s not a long story,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve always loved art and being creative. I found my niche with stained-glass windows. One thing led to another, and my talent, along with a bit of luck, made me very popular in certain circles online. People who want the best, they know to come to me. I sell my stained glass for anywhere from five hundred dollars for a tiny four-by-six inch panel, to six figures and up for large windows for churches and other buildings.”
Rocky blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirmed. “I’ve invested almost all of my earnings. If I’m being honest, I could retire today if I wanted and not have to work another day in my life. But I like what I do. Creating art fulfills a need in me. I make jewelry and sculptures when I want a break from the stained glass.” She shrugged. “I told you I was good at what I did,” she said a little quieter…and a little defensively.
To her amazement, Rocky laughed. “That you did, Punky.” Then he surprised her by picking up one of her hands and kissing each of her fingertips. “If I’d known, I would’ve taken a little more care with making sure your hands were all right.”
Bristol wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. She didn’t go around telling people how successful she was. First, they tended to think she was bragging, which she wasn’t. She was matter of fact about her ability to create beautiful art. And second, when people found out she was rich, they treated her differently.
“Does this change things?”
Rocky twined his fingers with hers and rested them on her leg. “Does what change things?”
“The fact that I’ve got money.”
He stared at her for a long moment before saying, “Do you want it to?”
Bristol frowned. “No?” It came out more as a question than a statement, but she wasn’t sure what he was asking.
“Then, no, it doesn’t change anything. Bristol, I like you for who you are. Not because of how much money you have. I will admit that it intimidates me a little. I’m good with budgeting, kind of had to be being in the military, though I’m guessing my bank account looks pretty pathetic compared to yours. But I promise that as long as we’re together, I’ll treat you as if you’re the most important person in the world. And that’s the kind of thing money can’t buy.”
Bristol closed her eyes momentarily, almost overcome with emotion.
“Bristol?”
Her eyes opened. She wanted to straddle his waist and press herself against him, but she couldn’t quite manage that with her leg just yet. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be important to someone because of who I am, not because of a number in my investment account.”
“You’re important tome,” he said without hesitation, then leaned in.
This time their kiss was sweet. Not quite as passionate as before, but no less earth-shattering.
Bristol tucked her head under his chin as she lay against his chest and simply soaked in the moment. Rocky’s hand brushed against her hair, almost as if he was petting her. She wanted to purr, it felt so good.
After a while, he said a little self-deprecatingly, “I’m guessing your supplies aren’t going to be the few boxes I envisioned, are they?”
She smiled as she lifted her head. “My workshop is in the basement, and yeah, there’s no way I can do my bigger pieces in your apartment. But I don’t have any commissions on my plate at the moment, and I’m thinking I should probably stick to jewelry right now. It’s been a while since I’ve done any pendants and earrings, and my time in the woods inspired me to do some pieces with nature.”
“Right. So we’ll bring as much as will fit in my SUV, and if I need to make another trip, I will. We can see about finding you a bigger space to work in too.”
Bristol stared at him in silence.
“What?” he asked, picking up on her quizzical look.
“I just…you’re not what I expected, Rocky Watson.”
“It’s Cohen, actually.”
“What is?” Bristol asked confused.
“My name. Rocky’s a nickname. My given name is Cohen.”
She smiled and relaxed against him. “I like it.”
He shrugged. “I don’t. You have no idea how badly I got made fun of growing up. Cohen wasn’t exactly a ‘fit in with the crowd’ kind of name.”
“How’d you get the name Rocky?” she asked.
“I was in the eighth grade and had just watched the movie. I decided I wanted to be like him, a boxer. He was badass and didn’t take shit from anyone. I went to school and told everyone that was my name now, and I beat up anyone who dared call me Cohen for the next few months.” He shrugged. “Not very nice of me, I know…but it worked. Everyone started calling me Rocky and that was that.”
