Page 49 of To Hold and Protect

“Yeah.” His eyes lit with pleasure. “You get it.”

“I want to cry for a man I’ve never met. Is that weird?”

“No, that’s art.” He stepped back and studied the painting. “If it touches you like that, it means I’ve done my job.”

She’d never felt like crying because of a painting before, so it definitely touched her. The painting was a reminder not to make assumptions. Art wasn’t just a hobby for him as she’d assumed when his daughter had told him her father was an artist. He was a brilliant artist. As her gaze roamed over the painting, the signature at the bottom right caught her attention, and she gasped. “Oh, my God, you’re Park C?”

“Guilty.”

When she looked at him with what she was sure was an expression of shock, he shrugged. Why hadn’t he told her?

“It’s not something I advertise,” he said, reading her mind. “Very few people around here know. Most couldn’t give a fig and would just as soon have an Elvis on velvet over anything I’ve painted. It’s just that I don’t want or need people poking into my life.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” When she’d admired the painting in his dining room, he barely knew her, so she understood why he hadn’t said anything. But just wow. Her mother would freak out if she knew Willow was standing next to Park C.

“Do you have other pieces I can see?” She still had a bone to pick with him for ghosting her the way he had, but that could wait. Who he was...she just couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“I thought you’d ask that, but before I show you, I...” He stared at the floor for a moment, then lifted his gaze to hers. “It’s not important.”

“No, you have something on your mind, so you should say it.”

“I’m going to sound like a douche, but okay. I’m still Parker, and that’s how I want you to see me. Not as some famous person you treat differently. That’s one reason I don’t tell anyone around here. I’m just me.”

No, he wasn’t just Parker. He was someone special, but she got it. “I understand. I’m not as famous in the book world as you are in the art world, but people can be weird. I’ve had people treat me differently when they find out I’m an author, and it can be awkward. So, show me some of your other pieces.”

“They’re over here.”

She followed him to the back of the studio, where two paintings were on easels. The first one was of a boy leaning on a windowsill, staring out at a storm. The fury of the storm was so palpable that she could almost feel the electricity in the air and smell the rain. In the distance, splitting the threatening black clouds and bolts of lightning, a ray of sunshine promised that a better day was coming. Where the painting of the old man was sad and touching, this one offered a young boy hope.

“What’s this one called?”

“Liberated.”

She waited for him to explain, but when he didn’t, she turned to the second painting. Skylar and Harper stood at a window looking out at a snow-covered landscape. Brilliant red birds perched on an evergreen tree, a beautiful contrast to the stark white of the snow. Behind the ladies, a mantel was decorated for Christmas, and Jellybean snoozed in front of a fire. The painting made her feel happy inside, and she smiled.

“That one’sChristmas at Home.”

“Your art really is incredible, Parker. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Sure.”

“How many pieces do you have to have for your show?”

“Twenty. I’m almost there.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I owe you an apology.”

Yes, he did. “For?” It was impossible to second-guess this man, so she wanted to hear from him why he thought he owed her an apology.

“For disappearing on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why did you?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Because... You want something to drink?” He’d hoped that she’d accept his apology without wanting to know the reason for his behavior. Not that he blamed her for wanting to understand.

“Sure.”

“Wine, beer, water, or a soda? I can make coffee if you’d rather have that.”

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