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Leifs gaze strayed to Abigail. “So I see.”
''And I have a new drawing pad and pencils. Fancy and Pops got them for me for Christmas."
Abigail hadn't heard Birdie string two sentences together since the girl had decided to go all Joan Jett on her. But in Leif’s presence, Birdie was effervescent. Abigail found it slightly embarrassing. Leif seemed to understand and kept his warm smile on Birdie.
''And what about your mother?"
Birdie glanced at her. "My mother?"
"Does she have a new pad and pencils?"
"Nope," Abigail said, waving a pad half-filled with Birdie's drawings. "I'm starting with a used pad and pencils."
Leif’s smile reached his eyes. "I'm surprised to see you here, but I'm glad you came."
If only.
Warmth dripped into Abigail's belly before she could strike the naughtiness from her head. What was wrong with her? Daydreaming about a guy like Leif? He was too different, too earthy, and too holistic. And, okay, he had the best smile in three parishes. That dimple in his left cheek and those eyes the color of a fall sky did work. His jaw had a blockish quality, while his lips were sensuous. How Abigail knew they were sensuous, she wasn't sure, but she was certain he could kiss her up one side of a wall and down the other. And make her beg for more.
"I didn't have a choice. My mother gave us the lessons for Christmas." Abigail pulled out a chair next to an older woman who was knitting a baby blanket while watching them with hawk eyes.
Birdie's thunderous expression told Abigail she'd screwed up again.
"So the college wouldn't give you the money back, huh?"
Abigail smiled. "Nope. You're stuck with me."
"Well, your daughter has to have gotten her talent from somewhere."
Birdie bloomed pink."I get it from my dad. He's a musician. Don't you play guitar, Mr. Lively?"
"In this class, I'm Leif. Save the mister stuff for school. And, yeah, I play guitar, ukulele, and-"
"Drums," Abigail added.
His head jerked toward her. "Not too loud, I hope."
Abigail shook her head. "I saw you playing them once when I was passing out flyers."
Leif's eyes twinkled. ''Ah... the infamous flyers about the noise ordinance or the ones about the zoning issue?"
"Both."Abigail shrugged. "Didn't do much good, but a girl has to try. I owe it to my guests. They come to the B and B for tranquillity."
''And your banana bread."
"That, too."
Leif glanced up as another woman entered the room. "Well, I'm happy to have you both in class... whether you had a choice or not."
He moved to speak to two college girls who had tumbled into the room in shorts...in January, for heaven’ sake. They were wearing UGG boots, slouchy tunic shirts, and ponytails that swung in tune with their lazy strides. They took a seat at the middle table, the smell of honeysuckle wafting off them.
Leif took his place in front of the classroom and held up his hands. "Welcome, friends, to Introduction to Drawing. I'm Leif Lively, your instructor, and I know something brought each of you here for a good reason."
Oh, please.
Yet the man sounded so sincere, so welcoming. "I know some of you are here because you need the credit-" he gestured to the coeds behind Abigail "-and some of you are here because you want to progress in your study of art." This time he looked at Birdie. “And some of you don't know why you signed up for a nighttime class that will teach you the basics, and hopefully the joy of drawing." At this, he looked at Abigail.
She felt the heat in his glance, a small flare of attraction. Her first inclination was to revel in the idea he found her attractive, but she quickly quelled the thought. She'd misread the emotion in those blue eyes. She wasn't the kind of woman Leif pursued. She'd seen Marcie in her tight, gaudy gown and flashy red Mustang. The bodice had dipped to the woman's navel, showcasing enough boobage to smother a small child. Marcie was young, pretty, and nubile-three things Abigail was not.
