I preferred a beard, but it didn’t have to be refugee-from-a-plane-crash long like it was. I almost went right up my sideburns into my hair, but paused at the last minute. Beard I could handle. My hair? I’d do a hack job there.
The tap of toenails told me Mouse had arrived to push me along.
I found a moisturizer that hadn’t been used in months. My skin was going to freak out being able to breathe this much. I swiped my hand over my face to settle the beard down. I didn’t look so gaunt anymore. Well, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, but it was a far cry from the man who had arrived in New York a little over a month before.
“You’re such a fuckhead,” I told my reflection.
I got ready and when I added the belt to my jeans, Mouse hopped off my bed, his tail wagging madly.
“Yeah, we’re going.”
He did a big downward stretch, the wiggles increasing.
“C’mon.”
He raced me to the door, bumping me into the doorjamb to get out before me as he barked and twirled at the end of the hallway. I opened the front door and he shot out and down the stairs in a flash. I didn’t bother with a jacket, the sun was high in the sky lending the first scent of spring to the air.
It had rained overnight, making the gravel road dark with puddles and mud. My dog didn’t care. The road felt entirely too wide between us. A distance I’d created.
My gut twisted, but I kept walking.
Her truck was under the portico. I clenched and unclenched my fingers. As I got closer I noticed the doors to her studio were open to let in the fresh air. Mouse waited at the bottom of herdrive, turning in circles before running back to me to herd me faster to where we both wanted to be.
“Okay, okay,” I said and laughed for the first time in days.
I climbed the incline and my breath stalled.
She was in a pair of one of her overalls—and nothing else. Not even a sports bra. These were a white billowy cotton instead of denim and dotted in the rainbow of colors she used. Her banana yellow Crocs peeked from the overlong cuffed hem. The hint of ridiculous always warred with her innate sexiness and made me crazy.
She had a cart beside her full of small mason jars of paint in bright neon colors. Fat brushes in various sizes were threaded through her fingers as she quickly swapped them to make different color choices on the old door full of windows in front of her.
Each pane exploded with a different pattern of flowers in impossibly bright colors.
Her creativity was as fascinating as the woman. So open and filled with the light she seemed to embody. I watched for a few minutes, unwilling to pull her out of that perfect zone I knew so well and missed like air in my lungs.
I was just about to leave when Mouse barked.
She turned, a paintbrush between her teeth, and a streak of pink on her cheek. The flash of pain in her eyes was quickly banked before she dumped the brushes in a cup of water on her cart. She took the one out of her mouth. “Hi.”
I jammed my hands into my pockets. “Hi.”Mouse nailed his nose into my thigh and sat beside me with a baleful stare.I cleared my throat. “That looks amazing.”
“Thanks. It’s for Sanctuary Floral.”
My boots were glued to the ground just beyond the threshold of her studio. Light filled every corner, gilding her hair as if it followed her around just because she was Phoebe.
“I missed you.” I hadn’t meant to blurt that out.
She crossed her arms. “I’ve been right here.” One eyebrow arched. “Did you think I was going to come looking for you?”
“No,” I muttered.
“Really? Because it seems like it from here.”
“Dammit, Phoebe. I fucked up.”
“Yes, you did.”
And she wasn’t going to give me any quarter. I didn’t deserve it, but I also didn’t know what the hell to do here. I wasn’t supposed to be in Haven for a relationship. I had one job. Finish the book. Period.
