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“Sounds like things are moving fast for you. That isn’t normal.”
Her mother would understand and that was why she needed to talk to her.
“It’s not. I’ve sketched him out so many times.”
“You don’t do live sketches either,” her mother said.
“I think I’m truly smitten with him.”
“Good for you,” her mother said. “I think you need that in your life. You’ve been on that island for years and the last relationship you had didn’t last because Dawson didn’t understand your need to live on the island.”
She’d met Dawson at a gallery showing in Boston. He was interested in her art. They got along well and had the whole art world in common.
They could talk for hours, but he didn’t make her blood burn like Carson did.
They dated almost a month before they slept together and part of that was the fact that he lived in Boston and she on the island and making time wasn’t easy.
In the end, she knew he wouldn’t want to live on the island and she wasn’t leaving it. It was best to end things before they went further.
“He didn’t. Carson lives here. It’s in his blood.”
“Which would be more of a draw to you than anything else.”
“That’s right,” she said.
“What does he know about you?” her mother asked.
“Not a ton. I mean he knows what I do for a living. He admitted that he looked up my art. I own a home here, I have a studio. He’s a smart man. He knows I’m not after him for his money. He knows about Dad’s accident and that we lived on the property for years and you’re remarried.”
“That’s a lot,” her mother said.
“He doesn’t know what Dad does. The wealth he has. None of that. All he thinks is that Dad is an engineer.”
“Which isn’t a lie.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not lying. I’m sure I’ll say more at some point but just not yet.”
“Dad doesn’t know about Carson?” her mother asked.
“He had a massage waiting so we didn’t talk long,” she said.
“But you would have told him if you did talk longer?” her mother asked.
“I would have,” she admitted. Maybe.
“Which means you’ve got your answer on what is going on with Carson. Be careful.”
Her mother told her exactly what she needed to know.
It wasn’t just the drawing of Carson, but the fact she was telling her family so soon or wanted to.
“I will. I’m taking it slow. We both are.”
“Slow works when it works. Sometimes fast is good too. Remember that.”
Fast was how she was conceived. She knew that. Slow was Stewart. Her mother had both in her life and seemed very happy, but she knew that her mother would have been just as happy to have stayed with Laine’s father.
“I will,” she said.
