by Liv Brywood
“That was different,” she smirked.
“How is that?”
“He wasn’t a guest.”
“No, he was your boss.”
“And now I’m his.” She grinned and batted her eyelashes.
Cody laughed as he placed the broom and dustpan back in the kitchen closet. He’d seen the way she’d wrapped Mack around her finger. His brother was a lucky guy. Not many women could stand up to him, but Madison hadn’t flinched. They were perfect for each other.
The soft patter of feet coming from the foyer drew his attention. Abby walked into the kitchen but stopped when she saw him.
“I didn’t realize anyone but Madison was here,” Abby said.
“He’s my worker bee today,” Madison said.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better than yesterday, but the boys are still being paranoid ninnies about my health. I’m fine. Strong as a buffalo. And shaped like one too,” Madison added with a grimace.
“You do not look like a buffalo,” Cody said as he rolled his eyes. “Women, I swear. You girls care more about what you look like than guys.”
“I look like a whale,” Madison said dryly.
“You do not,” he said. “You look great. I’d compliment you more but then your head might not fit in the room.”
“Thanks, Cody.” Madison laughed before turning back to Abby. “Are you ready for some breakfast? I can whip something up in a flash.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t normally sleep in so late. What time is it anyway?” Abby asked.
“Just shy of eleven,” he said.
“Maybe I’ll just grab something in town. I don’t want you to go to any trouble for me,” Abby said.
“It’s no trouble,” Madison said.
“Thank you, but I’ll just grab a cup of coffee. I want to get to town while all the stores are still open,” Abby said. “Do you happen to know which store might carry painting supplies?”
“What are you planning on painting?” he asked.
“A picture.”
“Oh, so you need art supplies, not hardware store supplies,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, the general store might have something. We don’t have very many shops in town, but I’d be happy to go with you and show you around,” he said.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out alone.” Abby looked down, avoiding his eyes.
“Actually, I was about to ask him if he’d run into town and get me some paper towels,” Madison said. “They have those at the general store.”
Cody shot a questioning look at Madison. One minute she’s warning him away from Abby, the next she’s scheming to send them to town together. Good thing Mack knew how to read his fiancée, because Cody sure as hell didn’t.
“I guess we could go together,” Abby said. “But I need to stop somewhere and get clothes too.”
“What happened to your clothes?” Madison said.
“I lost my suitcase.”
Cody knew that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to call her out on it. From the way she’d described the court case, it sounded like she’d fled town with just the clothes on her back.
“I can take her over to Franklin’s,” he said.
“Great,” Madison replied. “I’m going to grab a quick nap while you’re out.”
“If you need anything else, let me know,” Cody said before turning to Abby. “Ready?”
“I can’t wait to get out of this suit,” she said.
He bit back a dirty comment. He’d seen enough last night to want to get her out of anything she put on.
As they drove into town, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The delicate slope of her nose gave her a beautiful profile. Everything about her called to him. He couldn’t decide who wanted her more—him or his bear.
The creature hadn’t stopped leaping around in his chest all morning. He’d crunched on a couple of antacids, but it hadn’t been enough. What he really needed to do was let his bear run it off. Sometimes that was the only way to calm him down.
“I’m excited to see the town during the day,” Abby said, speaking for the first time since they’d left the B & B.
“You should have seen it during Christmas. The decorations committee really went all out this year.”
“I bet it was beautiful,” she said. “There’s still so much snow. We don’t get much in Dallas, and what we do get usually melts the next day.”
“It won’t melt here until closer to May. You get used to it after a while,” he said, intentionally keeping the conversation as neutral as possible.
He’d considered apologizing for putting her in such a compromising position the previous night, but had decided to let it go. Since he didn’t intend to invite her to the hot tub again, it would be pointless to bring it up. In a week she’d be gone. Only a fool would try to start a relationship under these circumstances.
“Do you want to shop for clothes first or paint?” he asked.
“Clothes.”
“Franklin’s and the general store are next to each other. I’ll wander around in there while you find something to wear. Take your time. They have some new tack I want to check out for the horses,” he said.
“Sounds good.” She jumped out of the truck and walked toward him. “Hey, thanks for not making things weird today.”
“I’m sorry about last night. I had no idea they were coming.”
“I hope they don’t think I’m a wild party girl or something,” she said.
“I highly doubt it,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, my family is very laid back. They won’t hold it against you.”
“That’s a relief.”
A smile spread across her face, illuminating her cheeks with a healthy glow. A bolt of desire zigzagged down his spine. God, she was stunning. A classic beauty, like the women in centuries-old paintings. If he’d had a lick of artistic skill in his body, he’d want to commit her to canvas. He had to force himself to look away.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” he said.
“I won’t take too long. I don’t want to take up too much of your day,” she said.
He stood rooted in place until she’d disappeared into Franklin’s. As much as he wanted to deny the effect she was having on him, he couldn’t. If he wasn’t careful, she’d leave a wake of heartbreak behind her large enough to drown him.
Chapter 4
After purchasing four pairs of jeans, three sweaters, a fluffy down jacket, and a pair of proper winter boots, she hauled the packages through the door and into the general store. She had to find Cody before her arms fell off. She’d spent far too much time pushing a pencil around and didn’t have an ounce of muscular strength—unlike Cody.
God, those arms.
She could still feel them wrapped around her body. And when she closed her eyes, the sensation of his tongue gliding over hers sent tingles into places she didn’t want to think about. She needed to stay focused. Today was supposed to be about doing something for herself.
“Can I help you with those?” Cody stepped out from behind a rack of backpacks.
“Yes. I guess winter clothes are heavier than I’d anticipated.”
“At least you’ll be warm now,” he said.
If only he knew how warm she got when she was around him. She mashed her lips together to keep from grinning.
“I’ll run these out to the truck. I went looking for paint sets and canvases. They have pretty much everything here, but I can’t seem to find any art supplies,” he said.
“Did you happen to ask any of the sales people?” she asked.
“Nope.”
Typical man. Of course he didn’t want to stop and ask for directions.
“I’ll see what I can find,” she said.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute.”
After he’d left, she searched up and down the aisles. One row was stuffed with every manner of camping gear known to man. They had everything from gas st
oves to rappelling rope. Office supplies filled the second aisle. It seemed promising, but after searching all of the shelves, she came up empty. An employee in a green vest walked by.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said.
He stopped and let his gaze rake her body from top to bottom without making any effort to hide his perusal. What the heck was he staring at? Had she put her shirt on backwards or something? She glanced over his shoulder and checked her reflection in the mirror. Nothing appeared to be out of place.
“How can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.
“I’m looking for painting supplies.”
“You’re better off going up to Jack’s Hardware.”
“Oh, no. I’m not looking for house paint, I’m looking for art paint,” she said.
“Like for little kids?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.
“Yes.”
“Try Aisle 14 on the left side, bottom shelf.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Are you new around here?” he asked.
“She’s just passing through,” came Cody’s gruff voice.
She whipped around to find him walking down the aisle. When he reached her, he hooked a protective arm around her waist. Warmth from his hand seeped into her skin through the long-sleeved flannel shirt she’d just purchased. Surprised by his territorial stance, she looked up at him.
“Let’s go, hon.” He steered her into the main aisle and toward the other side of the store.
“Hon?” she asked when he finally released his grip on her.
“I had to say something to steal you away from him. He looked like he wanted to devour you.”
“He was just being friendly,” she said.
“I’ve seen that look before and it wasn’t friendly. He was practically undressing you with his eyes.”
“As if you don’t do the same thing?” she asked with a smirk.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t have to. I’ve seen you naked.”
“I still had a bra and panties on,” she countered.
“I got a good idea of what might be hiding under them.”
“Oh, boy.”
“And,” he murmured against her earlobe. “I liked what I saw.”
Now she knew he was teasing her. What a jerk. Yeah, she had a few extra pounds on her… okay, more than a few, but he didn’t have to taunt her about it. She pushed past him.
“What?” he asked.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she said.
“I wasn’t.”
“Right.”
“Hey,” he grabbed her upper arm gently and turned her around to face him. “I meant it. You’ve got curves in all the right places.”
“Most men don’t like big girls,” she said.
“You’re not big, and you’re not a girl. You’re one hell of a sexy woman. Too dammed sexy if you ask me.” He released her and ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. “And now I’m talking too much.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“Let’s find a paint set and get going,” he said.
Words wouldn’t form on her lips, so she followed him without comment. Halfway down the aisle, she spotted a kids’ watercolor set which included a large, white sheet of thick paper. She picked it up to inspect it. Her childhood watercolor set had looked almost exactly like this one. For a moment, she forgot about everything but the feeling of joy she’d had when she’d first set brush to paper. She couldn’t wait to get back to the ranch so that she could start painting.
“This is perfect,” she said.
“That’s for kids,” he said. “We need to find an adult’s paint set.”
“I don’t think they have any. The man said this was it. Besides, I’m not a real painter. I just want to mess around with it,” she said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” She clutched the paint set in her hands. “I can’t wait to paint the view from the back porch of the B & B. I love the way the mountains catch the light. I doubt I’ll be able to translate that to paper, but whatever. I can’t remember the last time I was this excited about anything.”
“You should be excited about something every day,” Cody said with a frown. “If you’re not living the kind of life that makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning, then maybe it’s time to change it.”
During the entire ride back to the ranch, she couldn’t get his comment out of her head. She hated getting up in the morning. It took three different alarms before she’d give up and roll out of bed. Even brushing her teeth had turned into a relentless chore. Had her life really become so terrible that she dreaded every sunrise?
She stared out of the truck’s window at the passing snowy landscape. What would it feel like to get up every day and be excited instead of depressed? Had her life become so dull, so routine, that it had completely lost its magic?
As a child, she’d risen with the sun and hadn’t fallen back into bed until late at night. Every day had been filled with discovery and adventure. She’d spent hours studying the angle of a flower’s petals, or the flight paths of bees through the meadow behind her parents’ house.
Now, she hardly ever saw the sun. She spent countless hours buried behind paperwork in a windowless office.
Her heart clenched. Ironically, losing the trial had finally given her time to stop and really assess her life. And after thinking about it non-stop for three days, she’d come to a single, terrifying conclusion—she hated her life.
***
An hour later, Abby sat at a redwood picnic table near the back paddock. Cody had showed her the spot. He’d told her that it was the best vantage point on the ranch. He’d been right. It gave her a perfect view of the majestic mountainside. The frozen lake spread out along the bottom of the scene, giving it a deeper perspective.
After spreading the watercolor paper out, she set rocks on the corners to keep it from flying away. Bundled up in her new jacket, hat, and scarf, she didn’t feel the cold, but the occasional breeze was enough to rustle the page.
As she laid down the first layer of color, she struggled to recall the last time she’d been so enthusiastic about anything. One incident kept popping into her head. She’d been twelve years old when her aunt had given her a paint set for her birthday. Even her father’s disapproving look hadn’t dampened her excitement. She’d never owned any kind of art set before and couldn’t wait to play with it, but she’d been stuck sitting with the adults all day in the parlor while they talked about politics. After finally being excused, she’d raced up to her room to begin her first painting.
Even then, she’d sensed that she was committing a transgressive act. But she hadn’t cared. The soft stroke of brush against paper had soothed her in a way nothing else could. For the first time in her life, peace infused her soul and she’d been utterly content—at least until her father had shown up to tuck her into bed. The conversation played through her mind as if it had happened yesterday.
“Daddy, look! I painted a horse,” she said.
“It’s a horse,” he corrected. “Always be precise with your language. That will help you in more ways than you can imagine when you get older. Did you do your homework?”
“Yes.”
She still held the painting in her hand. Why hadn’t he looked at it yet? Didn’t he like the picture? Was the horse’s head too big? Did she fail to capture the fine strands of hair on its mane?
“Go brush your teeth,” he said. “Remember to count to thirty, and keep brushing the whole time.”
“Okay.”
Her chest deflated as she set the painting on the desk in her room. As she dutifully went about her nightly routine, she fought back tears. Why hadn’t her daddy liked the picture? She’d painted it for him, hoping that he might like it enough to put it up on the fridge. All of her other friends had paintings they’d drawn posted on their fridges.
When she returned to the room, her heart sank. Her first art piece lay wadded up in the trashcan. A
s she turned to face her father, her bottom lip trembled. She fought to keep her emotions under control. Her daddy hated seeing anyone cry, especially her.
“Come on, pumpkin,” her dad said.
“You threw it away,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“The picture. You threw it away.”
He sighed. “Art is a frivolous waste of time. You could have used that time you spent painting to improve your intellect. Don’t you want to have a fulfilling life?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“Then forget that paint set and keep your focus on what really matters,” he said.
The squawk of a bird brought Abby back to the present. She sighed and set the paintbrush on a paper towel. Apparently she’d continued to paint while reliving the memory. It hurt to think how much that single conversation with her dad had changed her life. If she hadn’t shoved the paint set into a shoebox and placed it on the top shelf in her closet, how different might her life have been?
The sound of boots crunching in the snow drew her attention. As Cody strolled closer, she spotted a picnic basket in his hand. Her stomach rumbled. She glanced at the low-hanging sun, surprised that she’d been so lost in thought that she’d completely missed lunch.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Cody said. “I brought you some food. When I didn’t see you earlier, I asked Madison if you’d been back and she told me you were still out here. How’s the painting coming along?”
“I’m almost done. I just need to add a few final touches to the lake.” She leaned to the side to give him a better view of the painting.
“Wow, you made that?” he asked.
“Yeah. I know it’s not really any good, but I had fun doing it.”
“What do you mean? This is incredible.” He set the basket down on the table and leaned across to study the picture. “Look at the way you captured the sunlight off the snow. How did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I just look at things and see how I would paint them. I guess I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“You haven’t had any training?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Then you’re a natural. You have a gift. I’m surprised you don’t paint more often.”