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“That long? Maybe it’s time to give it a try again.”
“And if I do, and I fail?”
The last word hung in the air. “I think you and the world would benefit from you trying.”
“Are you just saying that because you want to represent me?”
“It would be nice to represent you in your comeback but I’m really encouraging you because your work spoke to me and many others. I believe it could again.” She returned to the bed, pulled the covers up, and turned her back to him. “You know, there’s something rare and special about the emotions you evoke in people with your art. I think you can do that again despite what happened to your hand.”
ChapterFour
Brandon staredinto the fire’s flickering flames for a long time after he heard the soft sound of Laurel’s even breathing. Enough. He mulled over her words. She had touched his hand. More amazingly, she held it without being revolted. How had the woman managed to have such a profound effect on him in such a short amount of time?
He knew nothing about her other than she was an art agent so desperate to meet him that she had taken a chance on following him on a hunch. She sounded so sincere about her appreciation of his work. And his picture in her purse. He wasn’t sure what to think about that. In an odd way, it pleased him.
When she had taken his hand, his heart had almost stopped for the fear of revulsion he had expected on her face. Instead, it was a tender look, as if she wanted to take all his pain away. For a moment he’d forgotten his deformity and enjoyed a woman’s touch. The feel of skin against soft skin. He longed to caress her cheek but didn’t dare.
Could he believe her words? His parents had said much the same thing a number of times but had made no headway with him. Yet for some reason, Laurel had managed to get through to him. Had made him question his resolve to never do his art again. She had rattled his well-order seclusion. For the first time in months, he actually considered trying to create something again.
His mouth formed a line. No, it would just be wasted time.
Brandon was up early the next morning. In reality, he hadn’t slept much. After his uncharacteristic spilling of his personal life to a stranger, he had been unsettled. He buttoned his pants then pulled on a T-shirt and flannel shirt over that. Still Laurel slept. After adding a log to the fire, he looked at her for a few moments. If circumstances were different, what would it be like to crawl into a warm bed and pull her into his arms? Would she be accepting? He shook his head. It had been too long since he’d held a woman.
Laurel was a stunning one. Dark, wavy hair, large expressive eyes in contrast to her creamy skin that had touched him with compassion along with her soft soothing voice. She wore the typical clothes of an up-and-coming woman in the business world trying to prove herself, but he sensed a soul-deep pain in her. One that understood and touched his. Yet she was big city from the tip of her pink pedicure to the top of her finely arched brows.
Would she be scared if he touched her hair? How had this woman gotten under his skin so fast? He forced himself to move into the kitchen. Pulling a pan from the shelf, he got the sausage out of the refrigerator and put it on the stove. It sizzled and Laurel stirred.
“Hey,” she said as if testing his reaction.
“Sorry if I woke you.” He focused on his cooking. “I’m not used to having an extra person around.”
She climbed out of bed. He glanced up. Laurel looked around the place. She started toward the curtained-off room. “Where are you going?”
“I was hoping there’s a bathroom through there.”
“No, it’s right this way.” He directed her to a small door on the other side of him. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed it last night.
She entered the bath with a sink and commode. Soon she returned. “No shower? Do you use the creek?” She crossed her arms and shook in mock reaction. “That would be cold this time of year.”
“I have a shower outside. Cold at first but I have plenty of hot water. It’s refreshing if you would like to try it.”
She shook her head. “No thanks.”
“It’s especially nice at night to look up at the stars.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
He raised a brow. “Not very adventurous, are you?”
“Not really. Following you here was about as spontaneous and adventurous as I’ve ever been.”
“How do you feel this morning?”
She moved her chin to the side in thought. “That might have been the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”
“We’ll have breakfast then I’ll take you back to the Inn. I know you must have plans for Christmas. By the way, your clothes are dry.”
She walked over and fingered her jeans. “I’ll put these on right now.”
