Page 89 of In Your Dreams, Holden Rhodes

At the edgeof the inn’s property, Holden’s gaze lingered on some of the trees in the forest.

He frowned. “I should have an arborist out. Storm season is coming up and we get a lot of downed trees during the winter. They cause a lot of problems.” He turned back to me. “I’ll call on Monday.”

“You want me to call?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I got it.”

We walked into town with our coffees, saying hello to people we recognized. Holden listened to me chat away about the reality dating show I watched with the girls on Monday nights. Div, Hannah’s friend from the bar, and Max, who managed Avery’s restaurant, joined us sometimes so I was getting to know them.

“Can we go in here?” I pointed at the art gallery. “I want to see if the gift shop has any coffee table books on art. I think they’d be nice to have in the sitting room, for people to flip through.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“I usually go to thrift stores for coffee table books but—” I winced, “—I can’t show my face in there.”

Holden grinned before his expression turned serious. “Nothing to be ashamed about,” he said, imitating Don.

I laughed. “Ugh. Stop.”

We stepped inside and I moved toward the gift shop but Holden’s hand wrapped around my arm and gently tugged.

“Let’s wander through,” he said, tilting his head to the gallery.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

He slipped a twenty into the donation box and waved me off when I tried to pay him back. We strolled through, stopping to study each painting before moving on to the next.

“Which is your favorite?” I asked.

He turned and pointed. “That one.”

“Wow.” I blinked and my eyebrows rose sky high. “That’s pretty sexy for a small town gallery.”

It was a painting of a man and woman, naked and embracing, staring at each other. The colors were rich and dark.

His mouth curled. “Not everyone is a perv like you.” He shrugged. “It’s honest.”

The intimacy of the painting made my heart twist. I stepped forward to read the card. The painting was from the nineteen-fifties by a local artist. She had passed away a decade prior.

Maybe this was her truth, but no one had ever looked at me like that. Intimacy meant honesty, and even if I loved Grant, it wasn’t real, because it wasn’t true.

I didn’t even know if I loved him. I think I loved the idea of having a fiancé more than I lovedhim. My stomach rolled. I didn’t even love him and I wasstillso easily misled.

Holden stepped close behind me, barely touching me. He leaned down close to my ear, keeping his voice low. “It’s part of a pair, but the gallery won’t sell it to the other owner, and the owner won’t give his up.”

“Maybe they’re doomed to be apart forever.”

“Or they’re both waiting for the other to cave.”

I frowned and narrowed my eyes up at him and he wiggled his eyebrows back.

“Which is your favorite?”

“Hmmm.” My gaze roamed the gallery. I found Emily Carr’s self-portrait. “That one.”

His mouth hitched. “That’s Hannah’s favorite, too.”

“Oh, yeah? I didn’t know she liked to come here.”

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