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He blinked. “What?”
She shrugged. Again. “He’s an artist. So are you. And you’re no more used to that than he is. But that doesn’t make it not true.”
“I’m not—”
“An artist. So you’ve said. Despite all evidence to the contrary. Maybe you should think about why you cling to that perception so fiercely.”
She turned to unlock the door, leaving him a little stunned. Only the reflex of his mother’s long training enabled him to reach out and open the door for her. His movement seemed to startle her, and she spun back. They nearly collided. She was so close he caught the fresh, sweet scent he’d already come to associate with her. The scent that reminded him of the peach lemonade his mother had mentioned.
He didn’t even realize he’d lowered his head until she raised hers and her hair brushed his chin. She was close, so close, and the next thing he should do, the next thing he needed to do was obvious. So obvious. And his every sense snapped alert, ready, urging him on. He wanted that mouth, that mouth with the soft lips and the tongue that uttered those clever retorts. Wanted it so badly it blasted every logical, reasoned thought out of his head. And he moved that last critical inch. But at the same instant she moved as well, and his lips merely brushed her cheek.
She jumped, clearly startled. And that was enough to make him pull back. He’d never made a woman jump like that before, and that was warning enough to retreat.
Yes, she’d definitely been surprised.
But then, so had he.
Chapter Sixteen
Kaitlyn was surprised—andif she were honest, a little disappointed—when the Rafferty Ranch truck arrived in the morning to pick her up, but with Keller behind the wheel. She almost laughed out loud at herself. What woman on earth would be disappointed to see the tall, handsome, green-eyed cowboy show up for her?
Only one who’s developed a fascination for a dark-haired, stormy-eyed artist who denies he’s an artist. One who got the crazy idea into her head that he’d almost kissed her last night.
As if the likes of Rylan Rafferty would ever want to kiss the likes of her. A man who could have any woman he wanted, with just a look and a crook of his finger.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said to Keller, for lack of anything better to say. “I could have done a ride-share, really.”
“It’s no problem. I had to run into town for something anyway, so it only made sense.” He smiled at her, and it was the smile of a very contented man. “Sydney was going to come along, but she got a call from London she had to take.”
Kaitlyn smiled. “She’s amazing.”
“That she is,” he agreed with that same smile.
Kaitlyn lapsed into silence, wondering if Ry had been grateful for his brother’s offer. He must have been, since he didn’t insist on picking her up himself.
Of course he was. You probably trumpeted it out that you thought he was going to kiss you.
“I wanted to talk to you anyway,” Keller said.
Uh-oh.“You did?”
He nodded as he started the truck down the long, curving drive from the inn to the Hickory Creek Spur that would take them to the road back to the ranch. Kaitlyn shifted in her seat, ignoring the protest of muscles that didn’t appreciate the new activity of riding a horse. But Keller didn’t say any more, for long enough that she became puzzled.
“About?” she finally prompted. Funny, she had no trouble doing it with him, but if it were Ry there at the wheel she’d probably be intimidated into silence.
He took in an audible breath. “My brother.”
She knew which brother he had to mean. And had the sudden thought that Ry had sent him to tell her to…what? Back off? Quit getting so personal? She didn’t think he was the kind of man who would send someone else to do that, but then she didn’t know anything about brothers and their bonds, or for that matter the bonds of a family like this one. She didn’t know a darn thing about families like the Raffertys. She practically trembled, was afraid to say anything as she waited for him to go on. Finally, he did.
“Ry’s a different sort of guy. Watching more than participating. And he sees…beneath the surface, I guess you’d say. Sydney says it’s because he’s an artist, and they look at things differently.”
“He is that,” she said, cautiously. “No matter how much he denies it.”
He glanced at her before making the turn out onto the Spur. Odd, she thought, how a handsome guy like this inspired appreciation in her, but no longing. No, she stupidly seemed to save that for even more impossible men. For her, anyway. In this case one man in particular. It was no wonder he’d apparently sent his brother in to warn her off.
“Yes. And we don’t really know why he keeps denying it.” She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought, but realized she had no reason for the idea, only a gut feeling, and shut it again. “All we know for sure is, after Dad was killed, and before he found this…outlet, he was headed for trouble. He quit talking to any of us. Went completely silent. He was cutting school, getting into fights, and headed down a bad path.”
“So his art saved him,” she said softly.
