“I love your optimism, but if I can’t create art the way I want, I’m not sure it’s worth creating.”
I’d always admired his work, but to consider that he might never produce more of it, that was crushing. And certainly not something I was willing to accept.
“You know what,” I said, struck with sudden inspiration. “We’re going on a field trip.”
“A field trip?” He peered down his nose at me, his eyes darkening. “I thought I was the professor and you were the student.”
“This time, I get to be the teacher.” I smirked, enjoying this role reversal.
“Mm.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, trailing his hand down my shoulder. Any trace of joking left my face at the way he looked at me, at the serious tone of his voice. “And what lesson do you intend to teach me today, Ms. Pruitt?”
“I-I—” I stuttered, staring at his lips. I’d never had someone look at me with such raw desire. I wasn’t imagining this, right?
He leaned forward, and I licked my lips. His eyes darted to them, and I was convinced he was going to kiss me. But then his cell phone chimed, breaking the spell. He held my gaze a moment longer before backing away.
When he glanced down at the screen, he frowned. “We need to get back to the studio. We have work to do.”
I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest and feeling the sting of his rejection. “Not without the field trip first.”
“Kate,” he growled, and it sent a wave of desire through me, hearing such a possessive tone. It also made me want to fight back, to tell him to go to hell.
Why couldn’t I have the same response with my father? The same instinct to fight back? To stand up for myself?
I straightened, fully intending to hold my ground. “If you want my help, then you’ll come with me.”
He glared at me, perhaps expecting me to back down, before finally relenting. “Lead the way.”
I passed him, doing my best not to smile. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but I liked it. I liked the confident, brazen, brave woman I was with Xander. I liked that he gave me the courage to embrace my inner strength. I might be lying to nearly everyone else in my life, but with Xander, I’d never felt more like myself.
Chapter Nine
When Kate said we were taking a field trip, I’d expected a visit to a museum. Maybe we’d spend the afternoon in a peaceful nature preserve or at a yoga class. Not—this.
Whatever the hell this was.
Small children ran around, laughing and squealing as they chased one another. I stared with horror as one stuck his finger in his mouth before attempting to shove it in his classmate’s ear.Dear god.They were savages.
Kate hooked her arm through mine. “Come on.”
“Oh, hell no.” I shook my head, eyes wide. She wanted me to go in—there? Into an enclosed space with the hooligans? She couldn’t possibly be serious.
“Yep.” She grinned, making me realize I’d said that last part aloud. “Let’s do this.”
“Dowhatexactly?”
“Art, silly. We’re going to help these adorable kiddos tap into their inner Renoir, Picasso, Manet.”
I scoffed.Right.I mean, really. They could barely speak. How could they possibly draw at a level that would compare to some of the most talented artists the world had ever known? I didn’t compare myself to the masters, and I’d been touted as a prodigy, one of the most gifted artists of my generation. At least, before my accident. Now, I’d be lucky if my art were compared to one of these budding Picassos, as Kate had referred to them.
“Come on.” She grabbed my hand and tugged.
For a moment, I forgot all about what she wanted me to do and focused on the feel of her hand in mine. On her beguiling smile. Only a week into spending time with her, and I was beginning to realize I was a fool for this woman. That I would do—be—anything in order to spend more time with her, to see her smile.
“Miss Kate,” the kids shouted her name as we entered.
“Hey, guys,” she addressed them, completely at ease. “I brought a friend with me. His name’s Xander.”
Everyone said hello, some sitting still, their hands in their laps, others bouncing on their knees. All excited to see Kate.
