Page 12 of The Bad Boy's Homecoming
“I’d like that.”
“Alright, I can pick up the boys from school today after I talk to Mrs.Hart, and then maybe help with dinner?”
“We’re having lasagna.I guess I can let you help me cook if you promise not to eat all the cheese.”
“No promises.See you at four-thirty with chaos in tow.”
“Can’t wait.Thank you for the scones and coffee.”Declan patted her back, but that was about the extent of the affection he offered.
Her cousin was not only an exceptional lawyer, and former Special Forces, but he was also attuned to her in a way that always made her feel safe.He never pressed her for answers, never asked her about her past.She suspected his mother, her aunt, had told him enough about her history when she came to live with her the day after her fourteenth birthday.Declan had been away in law school by then, but he’d come home on breaks.He always gave her space, but his steady, safe presence felt just like a warm hug.Dependable.Declan was the only man who had ever maintained a presence in her life, which was probably why she’d wanted to go to law school and follow in his footsteps.She’d made a mess of that, but he’d still welcomed her home with open arms.So if she could help Declan while avoiding Levi, that was a perfect plan.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Missy
To Be Seen
Not one, butfive shades of yellow paint in little glass bottles sat on the table next to a new canvas leaning against the long windows in the art studio at Hart House.Missy saw Levi’s car out front but no sign of him as she quietly walked through the front door back to her favorite room.
“I wasn’t sure which shade you lost so I got you one of each.”Levi’s deep voice sent goose bumps over her arms in a warm wave, but at least she didn’t drop the paint she held in her hand.
“Dandelion dust,” she said and turned to face him where he stood in the doorway casually.
“Is that like a pet name?I know I’ve already seen you in your PJs, but I feel like we’re moving awfully fast.”He stepped farther into the room.
She fought the urge to laugh.“That’s the color that broke, but you didn’t need to replace it.I’ll pay you back for these.”
He put his hands up.“No paybacks needed.Consider it a peace offering.”He held out his hand offering her a handshake.
The gleam in his eyes dared her not to accept it, but she didn’t like to be manipulated into anything.
“I’m going to stay at my cousin’s for a few nights so you can have your bedroom back,” she said, then turned to put the paints on the shelves along the interior wall a few feet to the right of Levi.
“That’s alright, I’m not going to kick you out of your room.Besides, I like being surrounded by all Gran’s sewing; in fact, I’m thinking of taking up pottery, maybe I could join this little artist commune.Permanently.”
“Don’t you have a job to get back to?I thought you were some big-time athlete.”
“Have you been doing some research on me, Little Miss Picasso?”
“No need—this small town will tell me your entire story before you can live it.”
“Is that right?Then I’m going to have to listen harder so I can find out yours.”
“I can save you the trouble.My mama left me with my Aunt Honey when I was fourteen.I never knew my father.Aunt Honey died when I was in college so my cousin Declan is the only family I have left, along with his twin boys.”
“And you were in your final year of law school until last year when you arrived home unexpectedly.Then at the ripe age of twenty-three you turned into my gran’s companion and a famous artist.”
She recognized the cocky squint of his eyes indicating that he thought he’d figured her all out.
“That about sums me up.”She wasn’t going to offer him any further details—he already knew more than she cared for him to know.
“What I don’t understand is why would a gorgeous, artistic young woman want to hide out at my grandmother’s house in this small town, and paint under an assumed name.It’s almost like you don’t want anyone to know where you are, or who you really are.”
Her breath hitched and she knew he could tell he’d hit a nerve.
“Oh, Levi, there you are.You know your brother has been calling my phone all day trying to get in touch with you,” Mrs.Hart said, walking through the doorway like a woman on a mission, carrying two large bouquets of beautiful purple hydrangeas.
“Those are pretty, Mrs.Hart.I’ll get your vase down and put them in some water.”
