I nibbled on the end of my paintbrush and tilted my head to the side, concentrating on the canvas in front of me. The painting of the cottage was starting to come together, but there was still something missing. I tilted my head to the other side, my brows scrunching together. 

Was the perspective I’d sketched wrong? Was it the color that was off? I bit down harder on the end of my paintbrush. Should I scrap the canvas and start over? 

No, I’d gone through two canvases already trying to make it perfect, and this was my last one. I could make it work. I would make it work.

I swirled my brush through the brown paint on my plate, then dabbed it in the white and mixed the two colors together to create a lighter shade. I brushed the color onto the canvas, filling in the outline of the cottage.

I took a step back. “Ugh. Fuck,” I groaned.

I grabbed my phone from beside me and pulled up Amazon to order another set of canvases.

“Why are you looking at your phone like it’s offended you?” Graham said from behind me.

“It’s not the phone.” I hit submit on the order. “It’s the damn canvas.” 

“Why? What did it do this time?” Graham stepped up behind me, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against him.

I dropped my head back on his chest.

“I don’t know.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “It might just be me. I suck.”

Graham rested his chin on the top of my head and tightened his arms around me. “You do not suck, Bambi.” 

“Tell that to the last two canvases I threw away,” I mumbled.

“This is your first time using a canvas and paints like these. No one expects you to be perfect at it on the first try.”

“It’s just… I can see exactly how I want the painting to look in my head, but when I try to put it on the canvas it doesn’t look anything like I imagined.” I grimaced. “I hate it.”

“Well, we can get you some new canvases. Or you could try using a new… whatever they’re called.” 

“I think you mean medium.”

“Yes. That.”

I turned in his arms to face him and bit my lower lip.

“You already ordered new canvases, didn’t you?”

“They arrive tomorrow.”

Graham chuckled. “I should have known.”

“Sorry. I know you said you didn’t mind me using your card for whatever I needed, but I doubt an endless shipment of art supplies was what you meant.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Bambi. I’d fund an entire art studio if it’s what would make you happy.”

“Oh. Well, in that case… if you insist.” 

“Okay, smart-ass.” Graham smiled and shook his head.

“Alright, enough about my failed attempt at becoming an artist,” I said, winding my arms around his neck. “How are your blueprints for Green Cay coming along? You’re heading up there again tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, they’re good. Almost finished. I think they’ll be really happy with the mock-ups I drafted.” He glanced toward the house. “You sure you’ll be okay here on your own? Dane and Kylee wouldn’t mind if you wanted to tag along. Dane, especially.”

“I bet.” I laughed. “And I’m sure. I’ll be plenty occupied here, trust me.” 

I leaned in and kissed him. “Thank you for thinking of me, though.” 

“Anytime.”

I slid my arms from his neck and turned toward the canvas, Graham’s hands never leaving my waist. 

“Don’t throw this one away. The canvas. Keep working on it. Don’t try to make it perfect… just see where it takes you.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. 

“What about the painting is bothering you?” Graham asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’ve been working on it out here for the last few days. Why don’t you take a step away from it for a bit?”

“Yeah, maybe. I just feel like… this was supposed to be the one thing I could control, you know. I love art. I’m good at art. When everything else goes to shit, this is supposed to be something I can rely on. I just—I just don’t understand why I can’t make it fucking work.”

“Bambi…” Graham turned me back to him. “What’s really going on? Talk to me.” 

“Everything. The whole trust situation and the bullshit with Randall. And now Caroline is fucking missing. It’s just a lot, okay. It’s a lot and I don’t know how to process it all. And now this stupid fucking painting doesn’t want to work either.” 

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay, Bambi.” 

“Is it? Because it doesn’t feel okay. I don’t feel okay. I thought that I was fine, you know? That we’d figure out what’s going on with the trust. But then Randall, and now Caroline’s gone. I just feel…”

“Not fine?” Graham finished. 

My shoulders sagged and I dropped my forehead to his chest. 

“Yeah.”

He breathed out a soft laugh. “And here I was thinking you were the more composed of the two of us this whole time.”

“I tried to be.”

“You didn’t have to. You know that, right? Do you remember what I told you your first night here?”

I shook my head.

“I told you that you were safe here, and I meant it. Bambi, you’re safe to be yourself, in whatever way that means. Happy, sad, angry. Or if what you’re feeling is fucking messy and complicated, you can be that too.”

He lifted my chin and held my gaze. “You don’t have to pretend. Not for me.”

“Thanks,” I said, “for reminding me.” 

His hand dropped from my chin and settled back on my waist. I wound my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“Ugh. How did we get here?”

“Kidnapping, if I remember your accusation correctly.”

I chuckled against his chest. “Now who’s the smartass?”

His arms tightened around me. I relaxed against him and closed my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I know how badly you want to figure this shit out, and I promise you we will. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And next time, don’t feel like you have to keep all this shit to yourself. You can come to me with anything, Bambi.”

“I won’t. And I will. Promise.” I rose onto my toes and softly pressed my lips to his. “I love you. Thank you. I needed this.”

“I love you, too.” Graham gave my butt a light smack. “Now, paint that fucking cottage like I know you can.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.” 

Graham arched a brow. “Oh, I think I like hearing you call me sir.”

He dipped his head, burying his face against my neck as he peppered it with kisses.

“Okay, okay.” I giggled, bracing my palms on his chest. “Don’t you have work to finish?”

Graham sighed. “Unfortunately.”

He dropped a quick kiss to my lips, then backed toward the door. “Damn you for being so responsible.”

“Just doing my duty,” I said, picking up my paintbrush again. 

Graham stopped just inside the door and looked back at me. 

“Go on. Shoo shoo.” I waved my hand at him. “Sir.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up and he shook his head.

“Rude,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

I turned back to my painting and chuckled to myself. 

Sometime later, the back door creaked, and a cup of coffee appeared on the table beside me. By the time I looked up again, my empty cup had been replaced with a snack plate of grapes, cheese cubes, and dried salami. He returned sometime after that, pressed a kiss to my temple, and took the empty plate inside. 

The next time the back door creaked open, I was taking a step back from the finished canvas. 

Graham came to stand beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. “You did good, Bambi.”

I rested my head against his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

Chapter Twenty →