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“So…they’re the yellow roses of Texas, cradling the Liberty Bell?”
The smile had become a grin. “Exactly.” Then he’d reached over and flipped the pad to a fresh, blank page. “Have at it,” he’d said.
She felt as if she’d earned some precious prize. She was glad to have to focus on the process, making sure to capture the wadded-up sheets that littered the floor around it.
“I probably should have tidied up a bit,” he’d said, sounding almost embarrassed.
“No,” she’d said instantly. “This is much better.”
Then she’d asked him to go to work.
And now, she was wondering for the first time in her career if her digital storage was going to be big enough. Because no matter what he did, be it working on that sheet of leather at the workbench, doing another sketch at the easel, or simply crossing from one to the other with that lithe, fluid way of moving that made her switch over to video a couple of times, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. At this rate, she was going to have to download and empty her camera storage to her laptop every night. And probably clear some things out of her cloud backup, because she couldn’t afford to up the size just now but the thought of deleting anything she had of Ry was…unacceptable.
And then of course there was the way she kept having to tell herself that what was upstairs was none of her business.
I live in the loft over my studio.
Lived and…slept. That shouldn’t rattle her so. But it did. Like everything about him did.
At first when he started to work, she could tell he was having trouble focusing. She was certain it was her presence. She only hoped it wasn’t her specifically, but simply having anyone in here when he was trying to work. So she stayed as silent as she could, moving with care, trying to be unobtrusive.
But now he was there, deep into whatever image he was working on, although she didn’t think it was the Liberty Bell one. Maybe something that didn’t matter, since she was here with her camera. Then again, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything that didn’t matter in some way, and she wondered what marvel the foot-square or so piece would become.
She knew how intently he was into it when, after a couple of hours that had flown by, at least for her, his cell phone sounded an alert, and he didn’t even seem to hear it. It vibrated on the wood surface of the workbench and he didn’t even glance at it until a few seconds later. As if coming out of a trance his head came up, and she suddenly remembered his mother’s teasing about an alarm to remind him Friday was his day to put on the morning coffee.
For a moment he just stared at the phone, as if he were having to work to remember what it was and why it had been rude enough to interrupt him. But then something seemed to occur to him, and he reached for it. He tapped the screen twice. And then a smile slowly dawned on his face, and almost without her volition Kaitlyn’s finger pressed the shutter release. She didn’t care if he heard it, she wanted that image of his profile, those strands of dark hair falling over his forehead, that strong jaw, the perfectly sized and shaped nose. And his mouth curved into a smile. That mouth that should require a permit.
That mouth that had been so close, just last night.
And then he looked at her, and her breath jammed up in her throat. Because that smile head-on was heart-stopping.
“Chance and Ariel are back,” he said.
And once more she was overwhelmed by the pure love this family shared. It was like nothing she’d ever known. Even when her father had been alive, her mother’s flaws had tainted things. Her eyes started to sting, and she turned away before he could see the tears gathering.
She didn’t even hear him, he moved so silently. But then he was there, so close she could feel the heat of him, warming her.
“Kaitlyn? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she managed. Barely.
He reached out and gently grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Try again,” he suggested.
She should have known. This was no ordinary, semi-oblivious male. He was an observer, and once tuned in he didn’t miss much. The very thing that gave him his talent also made him aware when something caught his attention. He might need a little more prodding than the average guy to do that tuning in, but once he did…
“I’m sorry,” she said, the familiar apology coming out more easily. “It’s just…your family is wonderful.”
“They are.” He stared down at her. “Why on earth would you think saying that is something you have to apologize for?”
That, she couldn’t answer. Because she didn’t know.
And then, with those piercing, stormy eyes he apparently looked into her soul, because he said softly, “I’m the one who’s sorry, that a good family is…such a revelation to you.”
Her breath caught, and in her already tight throat it caused a harsh hiccup of sound that was even more embarrassing. And then she couldn’t breathe at all, because he pulled her into his arms and held her. Simply held her, surrounding her with warmth and power and strength, and she felt all her embarrassment drain away. Or maybe it was that with him so close, with his arms around her, there was no room for anything except the amazing sense of comfort, of safety, of rightness.
She didn’t want this to ever end. But when it did, when he spoke again, it turned out she didn’t mind. Because what he said was, “Come on. I’ll text him to be sure it’s okay, then let’s head out to Chance’s place, so you can meet him, and Ariel. And Tri, the miracle dog.”
He wanted her to meet the brother she hadn’t yet met, and the woman who had apparently broken through to him. And no matter how much she tried to tell herself it was just a casual thing, so Chance would know she was around—he did work with dogs trained in war, after all—she couldn’t seem to stop herself from thinking, or at least foolishly hoping, it was more.
