Free Crazy Sweet Love: Contemporary Romance Novella, Clean Interracial Romantic Comedy (Flower Shop Romance Book 3) by Marisa Logan

said. “I've got a lot of work to do tonight. The Steampunk World's Fair is coming up in a few months.”
    “Oh, it's good that you're still doing your art. You were always so talented.”
    “Doing my art” was what Mom had started calling my painting when I'd told her to stop calling it a “hobby.” Even though I sold several paintings each year, it didn't count for her unless I could make my living off it.
    “Good night, Mom,” I said. I didn't have the patience to get into another debate about my art with her so soon after getting into another debate about my love life.
    “Good night, dear. Oh, and don't forget about the banner!”
    “I won't, Mom. I promise.”
    I ended the call before she could fit in another word. I made dinner, then settled into the cramped corner of my apartment that I called my “art studio.” It was really just a desk, a bookshelf filled with art supplies, an easel, and an old, rickety stool. But it was where I worked my magic.
    I still had to get started on the banner for this year's Easter picnic. It was my contribution to the gathering every year. Sometimes I wished I'd never volunteered to do it that first time when I was eight years old; once the family had seen how artistic I was, it had become my burden at every Easter since. And not just Easter, but Christmas and the Fourth of July, too. Each year's banner had a different theme and style, though I was about tapped out on ideas. There were only so many years in a row I could paint eggs, bunnies, and a cartoon Jesus before it got stale, so for years now I'd been trying out different ideas to keep things fresh. Last year's Steampunk Jesus and his Brass-Goggle Bunnies had been a hit with the younger kids in the family, though Mom had simply called it “an interesting choice.”
    I decided to put off work on the banner for now and start a new painting instead. I started with pencils, sketching out the framework for the scene I pictured in my head. Then I used my black paints to add in some shading, giving the designs depth and shape. Slowly, the image of a little clockwork doll formed on the canvas. She had stringy red hair like a rag doll, and her chest was ripped open, but instead of stuffing, she was filled with bent and broken gears, cogs, and springs. She sat slumped in a corner, lost and forgotten, a child's toy waiting to be loved again.
    I went to bed with the painting still incomplete, which made my little clockwork doll look all the more sad and lonely. She'd have to wait for another day before I could bring her to life.

Chapter 3
     
    I was organizing a tour group Saturday morning when I saw Tom and TJ enter the museum. I waved them over with a big smile on my face. “Hey, guys,” I said. “How've you been doing?”
    “We're good,” Tom said. “Right, Teej?” He tousled the boy's hair.
    “Yeah.” TJ brushed his dad's hand away and looked up at me bashfully.
    “We're just about to get started,” I said. I turned to the rest of the tour group and spoke up so the people in the back could hear me. “Okay, everyone, let's get started. Our tour will begin in the Dawn of Locomotives.”
    I led the group through the museum, stopping first at an exhibit on the very first steam locomotive built by Richard Trevithick, then continuing through the expansion of rail throughout the United States and other countries. The tour group was mostly small families with kids, so I made sure to spend a lot of time at the kid-friendly exhibits. It made me smile when I saw TJ joining some of the other kids as they climbed over one of the larger model trains and explored the various cars.
    “He seems to be getting along better with other kids today,” I said to Tom as we watched the kids play. “I'm glad his experience the other day didn't spoil him on the whole museum.”
    “He's a resilient kid,” Tom said. “He's had it rough, but we make it work.”
    “How long ago did you and your wife get divorced?” I asked, hoping I wasn't