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“You could show me the work you been hiding and tell me about it.”
He looked up from his soup. “I’m sure you’ve already seen it.”
“I did but I’d like you to show it to me. You can trust me, you know.”
His heart jumped. Could he really do that? The last woman he believed cared about him had disappointed him bitterly. Why wouldn’t Laurel do the same? Because she’d proven herself better than that. But what if she was doing all this just to get him to do what she wanted? “I’ll think about it.”
She lowered her eyes and ate.
Brandon didn’t want to show her his workroom. It had been days since he’d been in there. Those half-finished pieces haunted him. The idea of returning to his work terrified him.
But he felt he should honor Laurel’s request since she’d been kind enough to give him a Christmas, even if he hadn’t requested it. Would it be so bad to just show her around his workroom?
“I’ll take your bowl if you’re done.” He took their bowls and put them in the sink. “I’ll show you my workroom now if you’d still like to see it.”
She smiled. “I would.”
He pulled the curtains back and stepped inside what should be his sanctuary but had become a source of pain.
Laurel followed him. “Why do you keep the curtains closed?”
“Because I don’t use it.”
“There’s not even a speck of dust in here.” Her amazement surrounded each word.
“My family cleaned it and I haven’t used it since the accident.”
“When did you do these two pieces?” Laurel pointed to the workbench.
“They aren’t finished.” He looked down at the one he had started when he thought he was in love. “I began them before my accident.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“I couldn’t finish them. I have difficulty holding them at the right angle now. My hand won’t hold the tools like they once did.”
“Yet, it’s still an amazing piece of work. And this one.” Laurel stepped over in front of the bird in flight. “It’s soaring. You caught the beauty of freedom.” She looked at him with wonder in her eyes. “Tell me about your process. Do you sketch a form beforehand or just look at a piece of wood and see what it’s supposed to be?”
Laurel sounded so engaged he had to answer or disappoint her. “A little of both. It depends on if I have something in mind I want to do or if I just like the piece of wood and let it speak to me. The couple I drew because I wanted the woman to be the lighter color and the man the darker.”
She reached out as if intending to touch the sculpture but stopped short of doing so. “It’s such a sensual piece. It makes my heart hurt.”
The emotion on her face tightened his chest.
Her fingers moved as if to touch the bird’s wing. Once again, she stopped just short of doing so.
“You can touch it.”
She looked at him for confirmation. “I don’t dare.”
“You might as well. Nobody else will be seeing it.”
Her fingertip caressed the length of the man’s back.
Brandon’s body heated as if Laurel touched him.
“It’s not fair to the world to hide this from them. We need more beauty. And this one.” She turned to the bird. “It makes me think of longevity. Of expanding. Pushing further. Past your limits. The possibilities in life. It inspires.”
Brandon stepped closer. He hadn’t heard this type of talk since his last show. It was gratifying. He’d had no idea how much he had missed having his work appreciated. But would the reaction be the same for the work he could do how? “That is kind but the days of that quality of work is over.”
