Page 36 of Beautiful Exile

I knew my people skills were more than a little lacking. The few relationships I’d had were more like short-lived encounters or situationships, and always with people who were temporary. An artist I’d met on a retreat in Sedona. A photographer in Sparrow Falls for a month shooting wildlife. They were never invited into my spaces. My walls remained firmly intact.

It wasn’t normal, but then again, nothing about me was. That had never bothered me before. Until now.

I snapped my fingers, beckoning Brutus to follow me. He did instantly, reading my mood. I snapped his leash back on and was out the door and halfway down the walk before Linc caught up with me.

He didn’t make a move to grab me or stop my forward progress; he simply matched my steps. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Go back and look at the art. I’m sure any of them would be happy to show you around.”

My stomach twisted at the thought of any of them being the one to catch Linc’s eye. Getting close enough to bask in his light.Dumb, dumb, dumb.

“I don’t want any of them to show me around. I want to hear about the art from the woman who creates pieces that grab me by the throat and refuse to let go. Who creates work that haunts you long after you’ve looked away. Art that makes you confront the dark places inside.”

I stumbled over nothing; his words were like beautiful punches. Linc caught my elbow to steady me, and I looked up into his face, searching for some sort of deception. How could he know? How could he have plucked exactly what I wanted my art to do to people from my head?

“Okay.” It was all I could get out, but it seemed enough for Linc. He beamed like I’d just given him a puppy.

“You name the time, and I’ll be there.”

“After all the new pieces are in. But they’re ones that are going in the auction, so you’d better have your checkbook ready if you want one.”

The grin on Linc’s face only widened. “I think I can handle that.”

I let out a small scoff. “Billionaires.”

Linc barked out a laugh. “We’re the worst.”

I started walking again, Linc following on one side while Brutus walked on the other. “You said it, not me.”

“At least you know that when you take me for all I’ve got, it’ll go to a good cause.”

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. At least he was beinga good sport about it all. “It is. The afterschool and summer programs here give many kids a place to go when they need it. And an outlet for everything going on in their lives.”

I felt Linc’s gaze on my face, gently probing. “The way art is an outlet for you.”

Fighting the urge to squirm, I tightened my grip on my keys, feeling the metal tines bite into my palm. “If I can give even one kid the outlet that was given to me, it’ll be worth it.”

I couldn’t resist glancing up at Linc, needing to know if he understood. His expression had softened, the green in his eyes paling just the slightest bit. “I bet you’ve given it to more than one, Arden.”

Something about him saying my name made it feel like it fit me more. Like it wasn’t a lie.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

Something about that felt too intimate. The feeling of Linc understanding me was so overpowering I needed some distance. When my truck came into view, I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll text you when all the pieces are in.”

“Sounds good,” Linc said, not crowding me as if he could read that I needed the space.

I stepped off the curb and moved toward my driver’s side door. One of the flyers for the auction and fundraiser had been tucked beneath my windshield wiper. I automatically grabbed it, but something caught my attention. A flash of red.

There hadn’t been any red on the flyers we’d created as a team. We’d designed the image as a mixture of all four of our art styles with a headline in deep blue, and the date, time, and location in green at the bottom. But this flyer had boxy red writing at the top. Angry slashes that had my breaths picking up speed and blood roaring in my ears.

I KNOW WHO YOU REALLY ARE.

13

LINCOLN

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