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“Ah, she should definitely take the ghost tour with my cousin.” Eloise said.
“I’m going to book it and drag her to it.”
Eloise laughed. “But yes, I do believe, especially when there’s proof. And sometimes, when I’m painting, especially when I’m trying to get an image right, I can feel my grandpa. It’s like he’s guiding my hand.”
“My mom is a huge believer. She’s experienced some paranormal before.”
“How does she like it here?”
Kiel shrugged and veered toward the right, as directed. “My parents are here to relax. It’s a weird vacation. Like, normally when you go somewhere, you’re on the go. There are agendas and reservations. Here, it’s like we’re living.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
He looked over at her, smiled, and then reached for her hand. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay.” Eloise angled her body toward his and leaned her head where the headrest and seat met. From this angle, she could admire his chiseled jaw and his five o’clock shadow. She reached out, touching her fingertips to his cheek. Kiel leaned into her touch.
They turned onto Ocean Side and parked along the road where she’d given directions. “Follow me,” she told him as she hopped out of the Wrangler. Kiel caught up with her and took her hand in his. They traversed a narrow path through overgrown shrubs and hydrangeas. “The owners of this house abandoned it years ago after a hurricane. They won’t sell it and they won’t repair it. The city wants to buy it because of this.”
They came out of the overgrown vegetation and into a clearing. The cliff overlooked the ocean. Below, water crashed against jagged rock formations. The horizon had a combination of yachts, sailboats, and a cruise liner coming into port. Water spread out for as far as the eye could see, disappearing into the horizon.
“Wow.” Kiel gasped as he looked at his surroundings.
“I come out here to think sometimes.”
“Not to paint?”
Eloise shook her head. “Not everything has to be painted or brings inspiration. There are times when my mind needs the chaos of the pier or the beach, and then there are times when I need this.” She paused for a moment. “The peace and quiet. The ocean raging and reminding me I’m human and I’m allowed to make mistakes. The tranquility I feel from sitting here with my eyes closed. I love being able to use my other senses to keep me grounded. Painting takes a lot of me sometimes.”
“What do you mean?”
Eloise sighed. “I remember, when I was younger, my grandfather would lock himself away for days on end, living off take out or whatever my grandmother would leave for him. My father called him manic, but that’s not it. The best way I can describe it is a need, a yearning, to paint and create and the feeling doesn’t go away until our mind tells us we’re finished.”
“Does that happen often?”
She didn’t answer right away, afraid she’d scare him away, even though she should. Eloise had no business getting involved with him so if he ran, he’d be better off.
“It’s one of the reasons my dad is adamant I get what he considers a normal job. I scared my parents once. I didn’t come out of my room for a week. They’d check on me, bring me food, but I sat on my stool for hours on end just painting. When I ran out of canvases, I started a mural on my wall. My room was a mess. My father says it’s a sickness and wanted to throw all my supplies away. He tried to forbid me to paint.”
“I’m happy he didn’t succeed.”
“He might have if it wasn’t for my aunt.” Eloise said with a shrug. “My mom called her, asked her for help.”
“Does your aunt go through this as well?”
Eloise nodded. “I think at some point, all artists do. Not just the ones who paint, but anyone who creates. Your task overwhelms you and you become your work.”
As tempted as she was to ask him what he thought, she didn’t want to know. It wasn’t too late for him to peace out or for them to remain friends. They’d shared a couple of kisses and hand holding. Nothing that would be heartbreaking.
“How often do you come out here?”
“This is my first time since I came back to Seaport.”
“Thank you for bringing me. For sharing this part of you with me.”
Eloise glanced at Kiel and squinted. The position of the sun cast the perfect glow around him. Now, she wished she could capture him for a painting. She studied him. Drank him in. Determined to memorize him this way.
Kiel closed the height distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm against hers, and the desire to taste him was overwhelming. Eloise opened her mouth with anticipation, inviting him in. His tongue touched hers softly, hesitantly, and she moaned out of pure pleasure.
