Page 17 of The Wedding Engagement

Jogging down the stairs, he smiled at the thought that therecould, in reality, ever be a situation that would make him not want to be friends with Liv.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he entered the kitchen, where Jayce was tucking into his dinner, encouraged by Liv. “Right,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening the well-thumbed pizza-delivery app. “One pepperoni and one veggie?”

Liv groaned in delight. “You read my mind.”

He grinned as he typed in the order. “See? Never say I don’t know how to please a woman.”

Liv helped Jayce with his spoon. “No danger.”

A little color seemed to flush her cheeks, but she was turned away from him, so perhaps it was just the angle.

Arran shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Done!” He moved over to Liv, giving her a nudge. “Shift. You get your feet up before the pizza comes.” He managed to displace her from the chair she was sitting on and slid onto it to take over the supervision of Jayce’s dinnertime. Jayce banged his little cutlery on the table, singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.”

She watched them for a moment. “Spoilsport. I like spending time with him.”

Arran grinned. “Make yourself useful. Get some of your signature tea on.”

Liv huffed out a breath. “Fine. Then I want to see your portrait.” She turned and headed for the kettle, putting it on and making them a mug each.

Taking his steaming mug from her, he watched her settle into the seat next to him, absorbing the hue of her eyes.Jade ground with sea glass.His mind’s eye drifted to his paints, and which tones he would select to do them justice.

He blinked hard in an attempt to concentrate on the here and now. His artistic brain was always getting distracted with these little thoughts. He sometimes found himself pausing to take in ascene on a walk, pondering how he’d replicate the blue of the sky and the manner in which it reflected off a loch, or admiring his friend’s eyes and wondering how he’d bring out their sparkle on canvas. Though for some reason, Liv was the only friend he imagined painting.

“You okay?”

Arran sat straighter. She was eyeing him curiously. “Yeah, fine.” He sipped his tea. “Why?”

She shrugged. “You seemed miles away.”

Setting his mug down, he turned away to clean up Jayce (who was now giving an excellent rendition of “The Wheels on the Bus”), hoping she wouldn’t register his discomfort at being caught daydreaming about her. He stood to unbuckle Jayce from his booster seat and lift him out, joining in with his singing and drawing a soft smile from Liv.

“Can I have a peek at the portrait now?” she asked, getting to her feet.

His chest swelled with pride that she was so keen. “Yep,” he replied, placing Jayce on his hip and moving ahead of her.

“Can I bring my tea?” Liv asked.

“Yeah.” He shot her a glance over his shoulder. “But don’t spill it on my stuff or I shall have to chastise you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and desire exploded in his belly. Striding ahead, he opened the studio door and held it for her as she came past. Jayce was getting a bit wriggly, and letting him loose among the paints was not a good idea, so Arran placed him in the small play area he had cordoned off by the window. The wee one set to work building a brick tower, which Arran knew would be deliberately brought crashing down by his son in a few seconds’ time.

“This is beautiful,” Liv said, her voice laden with awe.

He turned to where she stood in front of the canvas, staring atthe middle-aged woman with long, flowing, silvery hair that he had painstakingly rendered on it over the last several weeks.

Drawing level with Liv, he took in her expression. Her lips were parted and eyes wide as she took in his work. “You like it?” he asked, pride rising in his chest. Her opinion meant the world to him.

She kept her eyes on the painting. “I love it,” she said softly. She placed her mug down and lifted her hand to touch the photo pinned next to the canvas, from which he had replicated the painting. “She’s beautiful. I love how you’ve captured her eyes.”

Arran cleared his throat. “The eyes are my favorite part.”

Liv nodded, still mesmerized. “Did she commission it herself?”

“No. Her husband did. For their silver wedding anniversary,” Arran replied, remembering the doting man who had personally visited to bring him the photograph.

“Oh yes. I remember you saying it was for an anniversary. That’s so romantic,” she murmured, fingering the photo again. Her face morphed into a frown.

Shifting closer, he touched her arm. “All right?”

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