Page 49 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

“Hello, Skylar. A great pleasure to meet you.” A distinct floral perfume with a note of pear glided into the house.

Skylar stilled. She remembered the scent from Auntie’s restaurant. People who wore disguises needed to remember to change their scents. Or maybe it hadn’t been a disguise and just a different style that day. Besides, the surf and turf restaurant was a public place and a popular one. It could be a coincidence Hart had happened to have lunch there then. Because why would Earl’s daughter need to follow Skylar and Dallas and eavesdrop on their conversation? Did Hart seriously suspect them of harming her father?

How would this all affect her kind and sometimes too-trusting grandma? Concern constricted Skylar’s rib cage, but she kept her smile intact as she returned to the round table.

Was all this her admittedly vivid imagination? Or were there more players in the game than she’d realized? And what kind of game were they playing, exactly?

Chapter Ten

SKYLAR’S HEART FLUTTEREDas she opened her grandmother’s front door the next day and waved Dallas in. “Hey there. Come on in.”

What was happening to her? She wasn’t a lovestruck teenager any longer with naïve dreams. She was a rational adult with no more illusions.

Yet every time she saw him again, every time shethoughtabout him—and she’d thought about him constantly since returning to her hometown—her heart did this weird dance in her chest.

He stepped inside. “I, um, I brought something for you.” He adjusted the easel’s strap on his shoulder.

“Oh. Right. Thank you.” If she hadn’t stared into his baby blues so long, she’d have noticed the easel and the large box in his hands right away. Curiosity won over. “What’s in the box? I mean, I appreciate it, but you shouldn’t have.”

She thought she could guess, and it gave her mixed feelings. Just as the fact that he still wanted anything to do with her gave her mixed feelings—surprise, regret, hope, gratitude, and many others she didn’t dare name.

Hope could be a dangerous thing, though. For so long, she’d hoped her parents would return. Look where that had led her.

“Is it okay if I place the rest on the coffee table?” He slid the easel on the floor.

“Sure.” She edged a couple of Grandma’s colorful crocheting magazines aside.

“I hope you like these. Kai said they had an extra supply of frames at the store.” Dallas took out frames, canvases, paintbrushes, paints, and a palette.

Tears prickled behind her eyes. “I–I don’t know what to say. I can’t even promise I’ll use any of this. I don’t paint anymore.”

“There are things for watercolors here, too.”

A lump grew in her throat as she stroked one exquisite picture frame, the surface smooth and familiar beneath her fingertips even after all these years. She didn’t dare even touch a paintbrush. What would it feel like to hold one, to wield it? Her heartbeat kicked up speed, and she stifled the emotion with a deep breath, pressing it down, burying it and that part of her soul. “You know what I mean.”

With his gaze so understanding, it nearly ripped her apart. “I don’t want you to promise anything.” At least, he didn’t addbecause you broke your main promise to me. “I just wanted you to have this. Just in case.”

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