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She shivered. She liked the way it felt for him to say her name. Like a soft caress across her skin. “Quinn. Georgie Quinn.” She cleared her throat. “So, uh…Thanks for catching me.” How embarrassing. She hoped her blush wasn’t too obvious.
“You’re welcome.” She didn’t know what else to say, so she just stood there looking at him. Then she realized she was still holding his hand. Or rather, he was holding hers. Gazing at her as she was gazing at him. She pulled her hand free. That seemed to jolt him. “Are you alright now?”
“Sure, I’m fine.” She couldn’t help the defensive note in her voice.
He seemed about to say something, then change his mind. “You need something?” He gestured to her car.
“Just my kindle. I think it’s maybe fallen down under the seat.”
He stepped forward and Georgie moved out of the way. As he moved by her to lean into the car, she took a breath. Yep, he smelled as good as he looked. Because of course he did. Retrieving her kindle from under the passenger seat, he handed it to her with a smile. Georgie bit back a sigh as her heart did a slow roll in her chest. Yep, he had a gorgeous smile. Because of course he did. “Thank you.”
“You’re staying here, then?” He asked, closing the car door.
“Yes, just down here.” Georgie waved her hand towards the track.
“Oh, then we’re neighbors.”
Georgie gulped. Oh, God, now she was in for it, she thought to herself. She was going to see him every day. So every day she was going to have the torment of living next door to a hot guy who wouldn’t be looking twice at her. Realizing that she was yet to respond, she said, “Lovely.”
“So what sort of art do you do?”
“Me? None.”
“None? Then what are you doing at an artist’s colony?” He started walking slowly down the track and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to fall into step beside him.
“I’ve got a special dispensation,” she said.
“Have you now? And what sort of dispensation would that be?”
“Do you know Leah?”
“The little, dark-haired one?”
“Yes. We’re very old friends who lost touch. When we reconnected, she wanted me to come here. But her house only has one bedroom, so Juniper and William offered for me to stay here. Since any art I do would have the serious artists running in sheer horror, I’m allowed to stay as long as I like. The only caveat being that I don’t pick up a paint brush.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile.
Returning her smile, he said, “That is special.”
“Yeah, it is. They’re nice people.” They ambled down the track for a little while. Georgie didn’t fail to notice that Ryan had matched his pace to hers. “What about you?”
“I dabble in a bit of painting.”
“That’s amazing. And how long are you here for?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. However long I need.”
There was something in his tone that made Georgie stop walking and look at him. “You’re very lucky. To be able to do that.” She wondered why he needed it. Wanted to ask him. But his gaze was shuttered when he looked back at her. A naturally private person herself, she understood so she didn’t press.
“I am.” They started walking again. “I’ve been setting up my easel just here, most mornings.” Ryan gestured to the low, sandstone wall that edged the clifftop. It was about fifteen feet from Georgie’s cabin door. “Would it bother you for me to do that?”
“Of course not.”
“Thank you.”
“No worries.” Resisting the urge to stand there staring at him, Georgie turned away, climbing the steps of her cabin awkwardly, inwardly cursing her walking cane. She went inside without looking back at him. She hated, more than anything, to see the looks on people’s faces when her disability was too apparent to ignore. Like when she couldn’t accomplish even such a basic task as walking up a few steps.
* * *
The next morning, Georgie received a text from Leah asking if she wanted to hang out at the Long House for the morning. Not bothering with breakfast, she had a shower, threw on some clothes and stepped outside. Her pulse skittered as she saw Ryan, hastily packing up his easel in the light drizzle that had just started to fall. He turned, catching sight of her navigating the steps. Fuck, this was going to be a challenge. Georgie could only hope Ryan walked off first, because if she fell over walking up the damp, slippery track, she didn’t want any witnesses. But he surprised her by tucking his painting equipment under one arm and coming over to her, wordlessly offering the other. Georgie hesitated for a split second, shooting a glance up at him, then away. She hated sympathy. It made her feel weak. He wasn’t looking at her like that, though. She glanced back. He was smiling at her, holding his arm out while the fine, misting rain settled in his hair and on his shoulders. Georgie smiled back, slipping her arm in his and allowing him to help her up the track.
