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Color My World

Page 8

by Laura Westbrook


  She glanced around her house. There were dishes in the sink, rinsed but not washed yet, and the floor could probably use a vacuuming, but it could wait. She’d much rather spend the time with him.

  “One perk of being a painter, I guess,” she said. “I’m on my own clock.” She could always work later that night when she came back from the date, too wound up to go to bed.

  “Great. There’s a little place I’ve been meaning to try out again. You like chocolate, right?”

  She laughed. “That’s not a real question, is it?” He would fit such a place perfectly, his dark hair reminding her of chocolate and making her wish she dared touch it. But so far, holding hands was as far as they’d gotten.

  “I guess not, but I thought I’d check and make sure. You could have an allergy for all I know.”

  “That would be about the worst allergy I could think of.”

  “I agree. Glad to hear you came out on top.”

  “So…you mentioned chocolate. You’re on your way, right?”

  “I can be there in a half hour.” Hank said, making her wonder where he was. How far away was his house? It must be nice working rental properties and have time off in the afternoon.

  But she didn’t have time to wonder, as she had to get dressed as soon as she got off the phone, hurrying out of her painting things and into something less messy and far more cute. True to his word, he showed up in thirty minutes, and by then, she was wearing a pair of fitted jeans and a flattering top. She’d even managed to brush her hair back, pinning it with a barrette.

  She no longer felt the burning need to impress him. Sure, she wanted to look good for him, and she wanted him to like her, but she no longer felt like she had to dress up for him to think she was worth dating. He treated her with respect no matter what, and while that inspired her to take the little steps to show how much that meant to her, it also relaxed her and let her be herself, in a way she’d never thought possible with a guy.

  It was like she could be herself with Hank, and it gave her hope that there maybe was something there. She could finally be happy and loud or quiet and thoughtful—and he’d support her either way. She loved that about him.

  She slid into “her seat” in his car with a smile. “You’d better deliver on this chocolate business.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I will. Best kept secret in town.”

  “You’ve never been?”

  “Only once, right after it opened. I knew I needed to take someone special with me the next time.”

  She settled into her seat, liking how that sounded.

  He pulled onto the road. “I should probably have called it craft chocolate,” he said. “The best part is that they do tours so you can see the whole process. It’s family-owned, from a couple my parents went to college with. But I thought it might be something you’d like.”

  “As long as they do chocolate tasting there, I’m happy.”

  He laughed. “No one will accuse you of high standards.”

  “Hey now.” She would’ve shoved his arm if he wasn’t driving. In jest, of course.

  “Just kidding. I know you keep the standards high because you’re here with me. See? Simple as that.”

  “Is that so, Mister?”

  “You bet. I’m top shelf.”

  “I could agree with that,” she said, nodding. Nothing wrong with admitting that. It’s true. He deserves hearing the truth.

  “Really, though, I’m an ordinary guy with too much interest in art and local history for his own good, but you don’t seem to mind.”

  She wished she could just enjoy his words for what they were, but everything he said made her feel worse, because she had something to hide from him. She wasn’t being honest, and she knew this was probably the time to change that.

  But before she could find the words to start explaining anything, they pulled up to a quaint-looking shop, with a sprawling garden and old-world charm. She’d lost her opportunity—if she’d ever really had one to begin with.

  They were immediately greeted with the warm smell of chocolate. She could pick out sugar and butter, she thought, or something rather similar, along with the tang of cinnamon and coffee and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was comforting and exciting, all at once.

  “Do you want something before we start the tour?” He gestured to the displays of chocolates, all cradled in golden wrappers.

  She nodded. “You know me better than that.”

  “So a yes, then. Want anything special?”

  “Surprise me,” she said. I probably will before long.

  She looked out the window at the beautiful gardens, admiring how the lattice of the window panes framed the flowers and foliage. She tried to arrange a painting of them in her mind when he returned with a small platter of chocolates.

  “These are the ones I’ve had here before, and many of them are my new favorites. Not trying to repeat the experience, but they were all really good.” He set one in front of her covered in milk chocolate sprinkles and looked like a chocolate truffle. But he was smirking, and she knew it was probably something a bit less ordinary. He was always enjoying the new and different, and she was sure this experience would be something along the same lines.

  But she trusted him. She took the chocolate from the plate and bit into the middle. Rich chocolate bathed her taste buds, and then she encountered peanut butter and… “Is that jelly?”

  He nodded, his brown eyes dancing.

  She carefully licked a drip off her fingers. “I would never have picked a peanut butter and jelly chocolate, but you’re right, that’s good.” Leave it to him to go for something like that.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I’ll pick one now.” She looked across the options, deciding to give him one that was dusty with something red and flaky. She couldn’t be sure, but she was fairly positive she knew what that was…and she didn’t think he’d be expecting it at all.

  She set the truffle in front of him and smiled, waiting while he popped the entire thing in his mouth. His eyes widened, and he blinked a few times, but he couldn’t say anything until he finished.

  “Was that bacon?”

  She nodded, enjoying his expression as he licked his lips and clearly tried to process what it was he’d just had. “I didn’t expect that. The maple inside was nice, but…I’m definitely not a bacon-and-chocolate kind of guy.”

  She laughed. “You bought them, not me.”

  “You’re right. I only have my own bad taste to blame. I might have picked some of the wrong ones. They probably change how they look every now and then.”

  She picked another one, a white chocolate concoction that seemed to hide nuts—almonds, if she had to guess. “I’m glad you brought me here. I’m having fun already, and we haven’t even started the tour yet.”

  “I’m glad. Here, take a look at this.” He took her arm and guided her into an alcove in front of the window. Rich velvet curtains now separated them from the rest of the shop, to where others couldn’t hear them or even see them all that well. “This is one of the highlight spots. People take selfies here all the time in front of the view.”

  He drew closer to her, and his touch on her arm felt warm, as if they’d melt her just like the chocolate had melted.

  “Is that so?” Her breath came out in a whisper.

  He nodded and looked down into her eyes. The air felt thick all of the sudden. Did he really draw her there just for the view? It could’ve been the only reason. They were completely alone in a crowded building behind the curtain, inches apart from each other. She realized, right there and then, how much she wanted this. This closeness with him.

  Until now, she’d never noticed the green specks in his brown eyes. The lighter color made them mesmerizing, like a human kaleidoscope. He leaned down, and she knew what was coming. Everything happened in slow motion. His lips met hers.

  She caught her breath as unexpected feelings filled the hollow space where her worries
usually were. She felt safe and wanted…and she wanted him to feel the same way. She met his kiss with her own, trying to tell him just how much he mattered to her. It said far more than she could’ve with words.

  “Wow,” she whispered once he pulled back.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” She stared up at him. “You’re right. The view is nice.”

  * * *

  Cassie sighed as she wiped her paintbrush on a rag and leaned back. The painting was coming together nicely, but she wasn’t happy with it yet. There was still a lot of work that needed to be done, and she was feeling a little disheartened. She wanted the painting to be a treasure, to where, even if Hank couldn’t forgive her for lying, the beauty of this picture would speak on her behalf. It was a tall order.

  But so far, it seemed a little plain, ordinary. She worried that it would be obvious that she simply didn’t have what it took to be a successful artist, because artists didn’t always paint what they were inspired about. Sometimes, they painted what someone else was passionate about, and she needed to be able to do that just as well.

  “Maybe it needs more…light?” She tilted her head. “More energy, maybe?” She sighed. “How do I even create energy with a studio?”

  She was lost in thought when her phone rang. This time, it was Hanna. She thought it was a little late for her to be calling, but she was only too happy to have something to do besides stare at the canvas. “Hello?” She wiped her hands on her artist smock.

  “Cassie? Hi!”

  “Hey stranger. How have you and Josh been doing lately?”

  “Great. Really great.” Hanna’s voice sounded as warm as red paint brushed onto a sunset scene. “Josh’s business has taken off. Well, our business. He’s made me the co-owner, even though the whole shave ice thing was his idea.”

  “But you’ve always had a good head for business.”

  “Spreadsheets aren’t quite the same thing, though I’m happy to say those skills are being put to good use.”

  Cassie wished she had just a pinch of her friend’s skill and success, but she didn’t begrudge Hanna. She was happy for her. She and Josh had worked hard to make their shave ice business work, and he’d left Hawaii for North Carolina…quite a change for anyone. It made Cassie’s move look like nothing. “So work is going well?”

  “It is. We’ve been spreading the word, and we get a lot of customers, especially now that the weather’s been so warm. We even got a mention on a travel blog.”

  “That’s great. One of these days I really should roadtrip out there to come see you. It’s been too long.”

  “Tell me about it. Since I couldn’t talk you out of moving there, the least I could do is talk you into driving back for a visit.”

  “Tell me more about Hank. A few texts about him isn’t enough. That’s his name, right?”

  “Yes, it is. But we’ve also started dating. He’s been great.”

  “How far are things with you guys? Do I need to start saving a date for your wedding?”

  “No.” She knew Hanna was teasing, but she wasn’t quite sure how to describe how far along they were. I don’t even know if we’ll last the next month. But she didn’t want to drag her friend down, so she said, “We just went out for chocolates, and…we kissed.” She couldn’t hide her delight, and she knew it meant so much more than an ordinary kiss, but she thought Hanna would understand.

  “First kiss?”

  “Yes. He’s been so sweet. I think he would’ve moved along a bit faster, but I kind of put the brakes on. After last time, I think it’s best.” That, and my lying to him. Neither were good reasons to rush ahead.

  “Well, I’m happy to hear you’re moving slow, but that you’ve found someone. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “So are you up late at the shop or bored at home? I thought you closed earlier than this.”

  “No.” Hanna laughed, and Cassie couldn’t wait to hear what she was going to say. “Josh and I just found out we’re going to be parents.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to be a mom?”

  “Not for at least another six or seven months. But…I wanted you to be one of the first to hear about it. You’ll be Aunt Cassie next year.”

  “I’m so excited for you both!”

  Cassie tried to ignore the soft pang in her chest. It felt like Hanna was lightyears ahead of her in everything, now…not that Cassie was ready for a baby. But it was one more milestone between her and her friend. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you.”

  “Tell her we owe a lot to her,” Josh said, speaking from across the room, from the sound of it, but she could still hear him. “She was so patient in Hawaii. I don’t think you would’ve gotten to know me if she hadn’t been such a great friend.”

  “Did you hear that?” Hanna asked.

  “I did,” Cassie said. “I’ll take my reward in the form of shave ice, thank you. I’m really happy for you. I always knew you’d find the right guy and get settled down. You were always the romantic.”

  “As Josh says, a lot of this is your fault, so thank you—for talking me into Hawaii, for being such a great friend.”

  Cassie could almost picture the glow around Hanna. Despite the sliver of envy and longing, she couldn’t be upset. Hanna deserved all of the happiness in the world.

  Once they finished, Cassie set down her phone and exhaled. She was making progress on her dream, but it felt like the speed of the ants that still crept across her floor and along her countertops. Everything around her just seemed to reinforce what a horrible job she was doing managing her own life.

  But instead of dwelling on it, she buried herself in her painting. When she wasn’t spending time with Hank, or working at the store, she needed to work on this commissioned piece. She’d lose herself in casting the light, in the brushstrokes across the canvas, the colors and tones and shadows. The familiar ebb and flow of work would help her forget what a mess she’d made. She’d work and work, keeping her thoughts on the project in front of her and off of Hank, the man who made her feel good, the man who she wanted in her life but was afraid wouldn’t be there after she was honest with him.

  She didn’t want to think about how she was falling for him, how she was drifting deeper and deeper into a world with no happy ending. Cassie nearly lost her grip on her paintbrush.

  “It’s okay, Cassie. It’s okay. You can do this.”

  She took a deep breath. She just needed to focus on her art and make sure she did a good job. Once she had Hank’s painting almost finished, she’d tell him the truth—and she needed to make that happen sooner rather than later. She couldn’t keep dragging things out like this. As much as she enjoyed his company, she knew it’d only make matters worse if he did reject her…and she needed to know her fate.

  Chapter Eight

  “Are you okay?” Hank’s voice cut through Cassie’s thoughts.

  She blinked, then settled her gaze on the river. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear someone playing fetch with their dog, and in front of her, a small group of people floated across the water in those large inflatable tubes with cup holders.

  It was the tail end of another picture-perfect date that he’d planned for them, starting with a walk and ending with a picnic at the edge of a stunning river—a waterway Cassie hadn’t even realized was nearby. Even in a small town, she was still discovering things.

  It was beautiful, but the time had come for Cassie to be honest with Hank. She’d almost finished the painting. There weren’t many more meets before she’d have to hand it over, and she wanted it to be before then. Better for him to be upset before she finished, because then she had one more guaranteed time she’d see him, in case she needed to do damage control.

  It was that moment the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and the birds chirped just that little bit louder. Everyone else had cleared out, and the silence was golden. She wished she didn’t have to ruin the moment.

  “So…
the painting is coming along really well. I think so, anyway.”

  “Glad to hear. I can’t wait to see it. I think you’ve told me it’s almost ready a few times now.” He patted her hand, but she wasn’t ready to be reassured.

  “What I mean is…it’s my first commissioned piece, and I want you to be happy with it.” She looked down, unable to meet the cool gaze of his brown eyes.

  “First?”

  “I have something to tell you, and it’s not exactly easy. I just want you to hear me out for all of it, okay?”

  He shifted in his seat so he could face her better. “All right. I’m listening.”

  “The truth is, Hank, I lied to you. I haven’t sold a lot of paintings. I haven’t sold any until the day I met you. I did work in an art gallery up north—but they didn’t feature any of my paintings. I wasn’t even the art director. I was just one of the normal staff.”

  She waited for the anger to come, for him to get to his feet and walk away, or even for him to demand that she refund his deposit and disappear. But she only heard the sound of the river and the occasional bird chirping, although they had suddenly gotten more quiet.

  “I know I should’ve told you earlier,” she continued, “but I was so desperate to be that painter, to be successful…and I didn’t want you thinking I was just some glorified hobbyist. I wanted you to think I was someone special.”

  She thought he’d respond, to say something, but he just sat there, looking at her, his lips compressed into a thin line. He didn’t look angry, which was a start, but he certainly wasn’t happy. And I deserve that. After all, he’d never hidden anything from her. He’d been wonderful, and she’d been deceiving him for weeks.

  “And another thing. I actually work at that little grocery store. The one you bumped into me at. I lied about that too, because…” She ran a hand through her hair. “Because I’m a horrible person, apparently. I don’t like people pitying me or thinking I’m a loser. I didn’t plan on making up a story. I just wanted you to think I’m a somebody and it just…came out.”

 

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