Page 41 of Finding New Dreams

“Sorry,” I mumbled, nestling up against Rose’s kayak again.

“Got lost in your head?” she asked with a smile that soothed the rough edges of my thoughts. “That happens to me too.”

I couldn’t help a small smile back. “Thanks for finding me.”

She laughed. “That’s kind of our thing, I think. Finding each other.”

We wouldn’t have to if she’d let me hold on to her. Even for a bit.

Booting that desire back into its flimsy box, I started asking questions about her camera. She happily answered all of them and then some. I loved learning from other people, especially when it came to another way of seeing and capturing the world around them.

Plus, I’d do just about anything to see her face light up at me like that.

All too soon, we had to head back.

Not wanting to end our time together, I asked, “After we close Exquisite Moments tonight, would you like to hang out with me in the studio for a bit? Maybe give me some pointers? Or we could just fingerpaint again.”

My grin wilted when her expression tightened with regret.

“I would love to, Flynn. Really. But I, um, have a date tonight.”

My paddle froze mid-stroke as an iron fist clenched around my gut. Images flipped through my mind: Rose with another man, another man touching Rose, Rose kissing another man.

An ugly, sickening feeling crawled through my chest. I wasn’t the jealous, possessive caveman type of guy. Hell, Rose wasn’t even mine. But those images made me want to break any part of another man who touched her.

“Maybe tomorrow night,” Rose added quickly. “And definitely feel free to use the studio tonight.”

Ha! Like I was going to be able to focus on a damn thing other than what she was doing on her date. Maybe some of the guys would go out for a beer with me.

But I smiled with a clenched jaw and nodded at her as we paddled for the bank. As I helped her heave the kayaks ashore and stow the gear, I couldn’t help thinking that I’d been right. That a wall had gone up. My dear sister and her friends probably had something to do with it.

Were they wrong?

Maybe not. Maybe it was all true, and Rose had every reason not to get tangled up with a man like me.

And there I went. Always wanting something I couldn’t have.

12

ROSE

The predicted rainstorm on Saturday was more like a hurricane. Or as close to a hurricane as you could get in Minnesota.

Rain lashed against the windows of the gallery. The world outside was an ombre wash of grays and blacks.

I rested my hand on the cold window glass as if I could feel the power of the storm. If only it’d been like this last night, so I could’ve begged off my date even earlier than I had.

My lips twisted into a frown as I shut off the gallery lights and locked the door. I walked back to the studio but froze when I entered.

Flynn sat hunched on the stool, swirling his paintbrush over a canvas that was half-done in what looked like a brilliant sunrise. A stark contrast to the weather outside.

He didn’t turn at my entrance. Probably due to the earbuds poking out of his ears.

I slipped into his peripheral vision with a little wave. He startled and yanked the earbuds out.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t hear you come in,” he said, shifting as if to block his canvas from my view. “Do you need me to help lock up?”

“Already done. I didn’t mean to barge in on you. I thought you’d left hours ago.”

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