“I’m so sorry. But I’m so glad you feel inspired now.”
“Me too.”
The moment lingered between them. She started thinking about being back in his arms, but when Shar got in Cali’s head and started chanting for her to kiss him, Cali knew she had to get past the moment. “I guess you’re right. On that trait, you were born with it. But on your talent as an artist, did you immediately begin to paint extraordinarily perfect?” She took a step away from him.
“On that I’ll have to say it was a gift, but it was one that I had to hone. I picked up a brush in college during an extracurricular art class that at the time was the only option I had in the time slot. I was hooked with the first stroke. It wasn’t that good, but the feel of it when I brushed that yellow on the canvas and realized I could create something…” He gave a cute nod. “That was gold. I could see on the canvas what I wanted to be there and I began getting my vision onto the canvas.”
“So the first one wasn’t beautiful? I almost can’t believe that.”
“It was completely a beginner’s work but that didn’t discourage me. I felt in my soul that I could do better. And I was having fun. So I began honing my craft on Texas landscapes and horses and loved it. But the first time I painted an ocean scene on canvas, it felt right.”
“I love all of your work.” She made the statement with complete truth. She did.
The fact that Cam happened to be his neighbor was a fluke. She’d been a fan before he’d bought the land beside Cam’s.
“Which of the drawings are you going to create for the resort?”
He turned and headed inside and picked up a drawing. “This one for the lobby.” It was the waterfall but from the perspective of being beneath the water, looking up at the falls. There was an array of fish drawn in the water. “If you approve. I know you had something else in mind.”
She moved to the doorway, studying the sketch. She had only thought her idea was good. This was different. Full of his signature wonder. “I love it.”
A smile touched his lips. “You sure you trust me on this?”
“I do. What about the others?”
“Not there yet, unless you’ll let me paint you.”
“No,” she said instantly.
He laughed. “That’s what I thought. So how about this one instead?” He pulled out a scene that was completely underwater, of sea turtles and a colorful assortment of fish. “It’s a simple scene but for the pool area it feels right. I’d like to bring the animals to the kids.”
“Shar will love this. She works with the sea turtle rescue hospital here on the island.”
“Then that’s perfect. If we paint the turtles, that would help draw attention to the work they do.”
“Perfect,” she repeated. And she knew that as he always did with his paintings, he would put treasures in his paintings. Hidden things that one had to purposefully look for. Glistening sand with a crab peeking out at you that you would miss if you weren’t looking to discover it.
“I’m so pleased. The children will have a blast discovering what you’ve hidden among the coral and rocks for them to find.”
“That’s what I always hope for… Look, I need to be honest with you. This is the first time I’ve painted since the crash. And I can’t guarantee it’ll be my best.”
He moved past Cali and over to the railing again and stared out at the ocean. Every line in his face was tense. Cali stood beside him and suddenly wanted to smooth the lines from his brow with her fingertips…or her lips. She was losing her mind. That’s all there was to it. Or Shar had come to live in her mind and that was the same thing as losing it.
“You’ll be okay.” She placed her hand on his. “The fact that you’ve struggled is a testament to how much you cared about the men who died.”
“I cared. But doing something that brings me joy just doesn’t feel right. I can’t explain it. And until I got here and spent time with you yesterday, I wasn’t sure I even found joy in it anymore. But I do. I know that at least.”
She pulled her hand from his, too aware of the hum of electricity buzzing through her. “That’s a start,” she urged. “You’ll figure it out as you go.”
He nodded. “So far, anyway. I just wanted to warn you.”
“I’m duly warned. I better go now, and let you get busy.” She headed inside the sliding glass door.
“Is that what you’re doing? Figuring it out as you go?”
She paused with one hand on the doorframe. “It is. So that’s my only helpful explanation. I came back to the island, to the place and the people I love. And I’m staying busy and I’m determined to move forward.” And she was.
The fact that she had an infatuation with him was nothing.
Infatuation. That was a good word.
It explained everything.
Chapter Eight
Cali headed back to work now that he planned to go ahead and begin working in the lobby as soon as he organized his supplies. Now that he’d made a decision to paint, he seemed distracted and as she left, she hoped that it was because his mind was on the work ahead of him and not the tragedy behind him.
She knew how that could be. Although, her tragedy was far different than his. Innocent men had perished in his tragic past but that couldn’t be said about hers. Paul had not been innocent. And he was still alive and well last time she’d heard anything. It was one of the sad, unfair things about life. Good men often died and sorry ones remained. And only God knew why.
She had no plans to let thoughts of her ex sidetrack her today, so she shoved him under the proverbial rug and instead of leaving thoughts of him there as usual, this time she gave the rug a good hard kick for good measure.
And then she moved on as the memory of the sketch Grant had drawn of her made her smile. She couldn’t explain it but it felt good that he’d seen that determination and strength in her. Even when she hadn’t felt it.
“Now that’s more like it,” Horace said when she walked off the elevator. “Got a smile on those pretty lips and a pep in your step.”
She placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head up to where he was working on another light fixture. “Are you sure you’re working or just perched up there watching everyone and giving out hard times?”
“I’m working. And giving a hard time to anyone I can.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Hey, keeps life interesting. I do like to people watch and I’m wondering what happened on the top floor to put that smile on your face? Wouldn’t be our painter, would it?”
Nothing got by the man. She wasn’t exactly sure how he knew she’d been on the top floor but she wasn’t going to deny it. “Mr. Ellington is going to begin working on the lobby mural tomorrow, I think. He may start organizing his things this afternoon. Or this evening. If your crew could move the furniture out of his way that would be helpful.”
“You got it, boss. Grant told me when he came in from his jog he was probably going to work this afternoon.”
She sighed. Of course Horace already knew; why had she even thought he might not? “Right, then you’ve got it handled. You’re a gem and you know it.”
He chuckled. “I’m just a plain old rock that aims to please.”
“If you say so. See you later.”
“Don’t forget about the air conditioner,” he called.
She waved over her shoulder as she headed back up the stairs. “Oh believe me, I won’t.” With thoughts of Grant very nearly kissing her, a heavy-duty new air conditioning system would be nice because right now as the one they had was not doing its job. She was about to burn up.
As luck would have it, the office was empty and she was able to finish her work for the afternoon in peace. Thoughts of Grant played havoc enough on her concentration without having to worry with her sisters. By four, she was caught up and decided to call it an early day. Everyone had her number and knew to reach her on that if she was needed. And if she left now, she could avoid seeing Jill
ian or Shar at all again today and put off her inquisition a little longer.
Heading down the back hallway and out the private exit, she had to fight the urge to peek into the lobby and see whether Grant had started to set up his work station. She didn’t, though. She had had him on her mind too much and she needed space.
It was a small wall when compared to other walls that he’d painted but for Grant it felt as though it were a mile high and a mile wide as he worked. He couldn’t explain it; though he knew Mike, the young pilot and David, his friend wouldn’t begrudge him moving on, it was still hard. But this painting might help Cali. Her tears drove him. He could do this for her.
He worked in his room the rest of the afternoon, drawing out proportions of the various parts of the mural and then he went down around midnight and began to work. Horace, his new best friend, had organized his paints for him just as he’d asked him to.
The lobby was quiet at midnight. The older woman manning the front desk stayed in her office most of the time, as if she sensed he wanted to be alone.
Working at midnight was a pretty good hint.
Still, the first stroke was hard. Bold, deep cerulean. He stared at it for a long moment after he’d drawn his paintbrush over the wall. He always said a prayer before he painted his paintings…not that he was going to win a Nobel Peace Prize or paint anything of real meaning in the whole scheme of life, but he did want his talents to move people. To cause them to see the intricate beauty and wonder of creation. It wasn’t much, but it was what he did.
Tonight, he sent one up for Mike and David and the families they’d left behind.
And then, with hands not as steady as they usually were, he went to work.
When Cali walked into the lobby the next morning, it was with a sense of anticipation. Grant would start painting today; the very idea thrilled her. It would be hard to get any work done with the constant temptation of wanting to watch him work. She was startled to find a crowd in the lobby. It was full when she walked inside. People were everywhere and they were all watching Grant.
Cali gasped at the painting that was on the wall. “But…” was all she could get out. He stood on a ladder, Horace’s ladder, and was intent on the colors he was working into the waterfall. The magnificent, alive, and practically breathing waterfall.
“He worked all night.” Beth, one of the receptionists, came to stand beside Cali. “Laverne said he started about midnight and worked like a man possessed. She stayed in the office, out of his way, and watched on the video feed because she didn’t want to interfere with his art.”
“I thought he was going to paint today, and just prep last night. I had no idea.”
Beth sighed. “I don’t even know if he realizes we’re all here watching him. He hasn’t looked at anything but that wall and those paints.”
“Thanks, Beth. Could you put my bag in the office? I think I better see if he needs anything.”
“Sure. And if you need help, just call and I’ll come running.”
Cali handed her bag over and then made her way through the group of guests. She reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up. “Grant, hey. It’s gorgeous. Amazing. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He didn’t acknowledge her at first but finished the reflection he was working on. Then he looked down at her; her heart clamored at the intensity glowing in those eyes so blue even the ocean couldn’t compete.
“Cali, you should be sleeping.”
She laughed. “It’s eight a.m. You’re the one who should be sleeping.” He looked weary, deeply drawn, but there was no denying the vitality in his eyes, in every move he made. He had said when he painted he had a one-track mind but she hadn’t expected this. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Nearly finished.” He came down the ladder and placed his brush in a container. “I’ll sleep when I’m done. I’ve hit my stride and can’t stop. Black coffee would be good, though.”
“I’ll get it,” a young woman called; she rushed from the crowd and bolted toward the coffee shop at the end of the lobby.
It was crazy but he looked startled to see everyone. When they all started clapping, Cali could have sworn it just registered to him that they were all there. “Thank you,” he said, gruffly. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Come back later and it’ll be finished.”
“Got it! Here’s your coffee.” The young woman rushed back through the crowd. She couldn’t be more than eighteen. “It’s black, just like you asked.”
Cali could not blame the girl for her adoration.
“Thank you.” Grant dug in his pocket and pulled out some dollars.
“Oh no, I don’t want your money.” The girl held up her hands and backed away. “I’d pay to watch you paint.” She sighed and then brightened, glancing at Cali. “Could you take our picture?”
Cali could see Grant was struggling not to climb back on the ladder. “Sure, and then maybe you could go to the pool and come back later to see the finished product.”
“Sure.” She sidled up next to Grant and smiled as if he’d just asked her to marry him. Cali snapped the shot with the girls smartphone and hoped Grant wasn’t frowning too big in the photo. The girl grabbed her phone and headed off, staring at it as though it were gold. Total and complete fan girl.
Cali wasn’t that bad—at least, she hoped.
“Does that happen often?”
“Often enough.” He frowned and took a drink of the coffee and then sat it on the makeshift table beside his paint. “I need to get back. I’ll talk later.”
And then he climbed back up the ladder with a new paintbrush loaded with fresh paint and closed out the world around him.
One-track mind, he’d said that first day.
That was a steel vault he had there when he picked up a paintbrush.
When Grant finished painting, he was exhausted. Once he’d started, it was as if everything he had in him came out on the canvas…or wall, considering that was his canvas of choice. Both anticipation and sorrow swirled inside him as he’d worked. And in the end, it was just the work that mattered. The painting itself drew him, took everything he had to give and for the while that he painted, everything else slipped away. When he was finished, though, the adrenaline shut down and he paid the toll.
Cali, who’d not intruded but must have stayed near, appeared as he headed toward the elevators. He could hardly hold his eyes open.
“Grant?” she asked.
He handed her the paintbrush he still had in his hand. “Later.”
“I’ll close up your paint,” Horace said, also appearing from somewhere.
Grant nodded and then walked to the open elevator doors and punched the button for the fourth floor. Adrenaline had seen him through but now every limb ached. His arms felt like lead weights. When he reached his room, he peeled his shirt off before he sat on the edge of the bed. He reached for the snap on his shorts but closed his eyes for a moment and then fell against the covers.
This happened sometimes, when the work flowed like lava in a slow, burning rush that couldn’t be stopped. But never had it taken everything he had.
He closed his eyes and slept.
Chapter Nine
Cali wasn’t sure what to do. When Grant had handed her the paintbrush and walked past her, he’d looked drained. She wasn’t sure whether this was normal for him or not. It wasn’t normal at all but then, she’d never been around an artist and maybe it was normal.
But, again, it wasn’t normal to her. And she was completely not making sense as she thought about how he’d looked. How he’d acted. All she knew was that she was concerned. And she needed to make sure he was okay.
Shar walked over and plucked the paintbrush from her hand. “That wasn’t normal.”
Leave it to Shar to say what she was thinking. “No. You’re right—it wasn’t.”
“I’ll clean this up. You need to go check on him. He looked like he’d been up for days when he walked by here. And Cali, he looked like he was in pain.”
“Yes, he did,” Jillian agreed, coming down the stairs to where they stood. “Here, go check on him. I grabbed the master key in case you need it.” She pushed it into Cali’s hand.
“Wait, why me?”
“Oh please.” Shar glared at her. “You should see yourself in the mirror. You’re worried sick and you know good and well why it’s you who needs to check on the man.”
“Fine,” she growled and headed for the elevator. She wasn’t sure what Shar thought she saw in her expression but it was simply concern. That was all.
When she reached the fourth floor, she walked to his door and knocked lightly. There was no answer. Maybe he was in the shower. Unable to help herself, needing to make sure he hadn’t passed out on the floor from exhaustion, she used the key and slipped inside. The first thing she saw was his shirt on the floor. She hesitated, her heart thundering. She should go. But, she had to make sure he was in bed and not sprawled on the floor passed out.
“Grant,” she called softly. There was no sound, so she peeked into the room. He lay flat on his back, his feet still touching the floor.
Aw… Something she didn’t want to think too hard about curled inside her and, unable to stop herself, she leaned down and tenderly brushed a dark curl from his forehead. She stayed there, peering down at him. Even in sleep, weariness remained etched around his eyes and pulled at the edges of his lips. She wondered whether sleep was hard for him since the plane crash that cost him his friends. Wondered how much he hurt inside where no one could see. She reached to touch him but yanked her hand back just in time, rubbing her fingers on her thigh instead of along the sun-etched lines at the edges of his eyes. His beautiful eyes.
With a jerk, she stepped back. She needed to leave.
He was breathing easy, calmly, peacefully. Exactly what he needed right now.
She needed to leave.
Swallowing hard, she stepped back another step and then remembered his feet were still touching the floor. She couldn’t leave him like that. She touched her temple, tapped it as if checking to see whether she had a brain. Proving she didn’t, she knelt and grasped his ankle and then eased his Nikes off. He sighed and her stomach dipped. Hurrying, she removed the other. He grunted; she glanced at him, not wanting to wake him now to find her kneeling at the edge of his bed!
From This Moment On: Heartwarming Contemporary Romance (Windswept Bay Book 1) Page 6