Page 35 of Unpacking Secrets

“Paint? Pencil? Watercolor?”

“I like to sketch things out first, hence my overly dramatic hiking trip, but my true love is oil paints.”

“I see,” Henry said softly.

I lifted a brow. “Let me guess—just like Nan, huh?”

All he could offer was a helpless shrug, but his expression grew serious. I set down my fork and studied him for a moment. The interest in his eyes seemed genuine.

“What about your mother?” he asked gently. “Was she an artist too?”

A wave of grief rushed through me at the mention of her. I took a steadying breath, but Henry didn’t push for a response.

“No, she was terrible at most forms of art,” I replied, once I was sure I could do so without crying. “She was a seamstress. I shouldn’t discount the artistic ability needed for that kind of work, though. She made really beautiful creations. Clothes, decorations, all sorts of stuff.”

I didn’t want to see the sympathy in his eyes, so I returned to my breakfast and, after a moment, he did the same. When we finished eating, Henry loaded the dishwasher, giving me a warning scowl to keep me from trying to assist. He pulled off the apron and hung it inside a narrow cupboard next to the pantry.

“Do you have any plans today?” he asked finally, looking at me intently.

“I don’t plan to go hiking again, if that’s what you’re asking.” When he grinned, I shrugged and said, “Normally I would get started on sketches today from the photos I took, but I feel like I deserve a few days off to recover.”

He leaned a hip against the counter. “I wondered if I could take you for a drive?”

Surprise flooded my body and I echoed, “A drive?”

“There’s a different place I’d really like to show you sometime, but we’ll have to walk there. That one can wait until you’ve recovered fully. I know you’ve been out exploring, so I thought you might like a little tour of the area.”

“Oh. That sounds great, actually.”

The prospect of spending time with him was growing on me, too. When Henry's responding smile practically lit the room, I couldn’t hold back one of my own.

“I’ll run over and pick up Blue while you get dressed,” he said, then his gaze intensified until I could feel the heat of it brushing my skin. “Unless you think you’ll need some help?”

“Thank you, but I’m sure I can manage.”

A flush crept up my neck and I tried my hardest to look dignified. He laughed as he helped me down from the stool, and I shivered at the same tingle of awareness that zipped along my skin every time he touched me.

“If you’re sure,” he teased.

My scowl only broadened his beautiful smile.

“I’ll be back within the hour. I added my number to your list on the fridge. Now might be a good time to program it into your phone so I can rescue you next time you’re in need.”

“Very funny,” I said dryly. “Go get your dog before I kick your ass out.”

Henry clutched a fist to his chest and winked. “Straight to the heart, and after I made you breakfast. See you soon, Red.”

Fourteen

Juliet

Iwatchedhimstrollbackto his truck, then locked the front door and took a quick shower that made me feel almost human again. Despite my protest to the contrary, I did still question my ability to hook a damn bra, but I was absolutelynotgoing to ask him to assist. Just remembering the look in his eyes when his knuckles grazed my skin made my entire body feel flushed and feverish.

Huffing out a breath, I dug through the dresser drawers until I found a sports bra I’d packed for the non-existent jogging pastime I thought I might take up here in Spruce Hill. I was more than ready to consign jogging to the same shallow grave as hiking, even if the sports bra was a bonus.

There would be no more dangerous adventures anytime soon—even if Henry offered to accompany me.

With a grimace,I stepped into the bra and shimmied it awkwardly up over my hips. It wasn’t the most elegant process, nor the most comfortable, but in the end, I was victorious. After tracking down a pair of jeans with no paint splatters and a gauzy floral top that I judged cute enough to detract from the gnarly cut on my forehead, I studied my reflection in the mirror on the wall of the bedroom.

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