A Brush With Love Page 4

  Not that her current shell-shocked expression—wide-eyed and open-mouthed—was any better, though. He should have kept his stupid mouth shut, instead of letting the lovesick teenager take over his actions.

  “You, um… you want to go to the movies with me?” Her blue eyes stared at him as if he’d asked her to fly to the moon with him.

  “It was just an idea. You don’t have to say yes. I mean, I thought it would be nice to hang out while you’re in town, but you probably already have plans with your friends, and I know being seen with me isn’t exactly cool and—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not afraid of what people will say. It’s not like you’re an ex-con or a drug dealer—” She stopped and raised her hand in front of her face, her eyes narrowing a little. “You aren’t, are you?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. Man, she was cuter than she’d been in his dreams.

  “Good, then I don’t really see a problem with what anyone thinks. You just took me by surprise. I mean, you just said you don’t hang out with anyone in town and then you ask me to go to the movies with you. It was… unexpected.”

  “You’re different. You’ve always been different.”

  She tilted her head to the side and an amused smile curled her lips. Okay, he should really stop talking without filters now.

  He shrugged, trying to downplay his comment. “You never treated me like the others. You never made fun of me or called me names like they did.” Maybe that was the reason why he’d developed that huge crush on her back then. Or perhaps he would’ve fallen for her anyway, because she was beautiful, smart, and funny. She wasn’t like the cheerleaders who made sure to always stay miles away from him, lest some of the football jocks thought they were interested in him.

  “You didn’t ask to be partnered with someone else for that biology exercise in senior year, like Evelyn Marshall did. You actually volunteered.” If she only knew how it had made him feel, she’d probably laugh at him. He’d had a hard time concentrating on the task with her candy-scented perfume lingering between them, making him want to close the distance and sniff her like a hound dog. He still remembered how much he’d wanted to kiss her right there and then. His hormones had been all over the place, playing havoc with his mind and his body.

  “Just to be clear, I didn’t do it out of pity. I wanted to be partnered with you,” she said seriously, tearing the paper napkin apart into small pieces. His heart soared at those words. “You were smarter than the jocks in the class, and I was intrigued by your dark side.”

  “My dark side?” He chuckled.

  “The one you never showed anyone, that you kept hidden behind all the brooding. I was pretty sure there was a different person behind the mask.”

  She blushed a little and looked away. Apparently, she was the only one in town who’d realized that. He’d stopped caring about what people thought and had stopped trying to be part of the community long ago; deep down he’d never stopped wishing people would see him, though.

  He kept his gaze fixed on her, without saying a word, and waited until she lifted her eyes to him again.

  “So… do you want to go?” He didn’t want to sound like he was desperate, even though he actually was. It was now or never. He didn’t know when he would have the chance to see her again, once she went back to New York.

  She nodded. “Sure. Um… Do you know what movie will be playing?”

  He shook his head. “No idea. I don’t usually check beforehand.”

  “You just go there and hope it’s not a cheesy rom-com?” Her smile was cheeky—and plain adorable.

  “Well, that’s a bit sexist of you. What makes you think I don’t like rom-coms?” He crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair. Her cheeks turned bright red, and he had a hard time holding back a grin.

  “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean… Of course you can like rom-coms; I’d never judge your tastes in movies or… in anything else. I mean, I have nothing against homosexuality. I actually have a couple of gay friends in New York and they’re wonderf—”

  “Hey, I’m not gay!”

  She winced and, if possible, blushed even harder. So much for hoping to impress her.

  “Oh, um… no, no, of course you aren’t…” She fumbled with the glass she’d just picked up but it slipped out of her hands. Sweet tea spilled all over her dress.

  She squealed and shot up, knocking down the chair. Sugarpuff let out a high-pitched bark, while Bear merely lifted his head and looked at Caleb, as if asking him what was going on.

  Caleb stood up, unsure what to do. He could help her using napkins, but touching her would feel a little awkward, especially since he couldn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes off her cleavage and the way the wet dress clung to her curves.

  “Gee, I’m such a klutz,” she said, patting the fabric with the napkin. Keeping his eyes on her face took a monumental effort on his part. “Do you mind if I use your restroom? It’s a little sticky, so I’d better wash it off my skin before all kinds of bugs start swarming around.”

  Getting his mind out of the gutter took an even bigger effort. He just nodded, and when she looked at him with raised eyebrows, he realized she must be waiting for him to lead the way. It was official: when she was around he turned into a real idiot.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  Kyla stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, once she’d washed the sweet, sticky liquid off her skin, and shook her head. As if suggesting he was gay hadn’t been enough, she’d also managed to look like a klutz. And all because he’d asked her to watch a movie together. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love or a diamond ring. It was just a movie. The fact she’d been waiting for this moment for ten years made it a bigger deal than it would have been otherwise.

  She took a deep breath and let it all out on a frustrated exhale. She had no idea how she would face him, but she couldn’t stay in his bathroom forever. She checked her reflection one last time, gave herself a mental pat of encouragement, then walked out into the corridor. She took a moment to look around, knowing she wasn’t likely to ever set foot into his house again, and curious to discover more about him. From what she’d seen so far—namely the bathroom and a glimpse of the living room as they’d passed it by—it didn’t look like a cursed house: all dark hallways, cobwebs, and creepy portraits. It was bright and spacious, nicely decorated, though very minimalistic, and it was clearly missing a female touch. She hadn’t seen any pictures around, but the paintings on the walls were enough to give it a homey feeling.

  She stopped to take a closer look at a set of landscapes on square, five-by-five canvases that hung on the corridor wall. The C.M. signature on the bottom right corner told her these were Caleb’s works, and once again she couldn’t help thinking these would be perfect at the gallery. Checking that he wasn’t standing behind her, she pulled out her phone and took a couple of pictures. As she spun to go back out, her eyes landed on blurs of colors behind a slightly ajar door. Curiosity got the best of her and she stepped toward the room. She pushed open the door and let out a gasp when she took in the group of paintings scattered all over the room. Those would be just perfect for a gallery event and they could be her ticket to the promotion Rodney had promised. If she could find a new artist that would give the gallery a boost with collectors and new investors, she would be promoted to junior manager and would finally have a say in the gallery events and day-to-day activities.

  She opened the camera app on her phone again and snapped various pictures. There were mainly landscapes, either beaches or fields, but there were also a couple that featured people—silhouettes, actually. The style greatly resembled that of Monet and the other Impressionists, the brushstrokes evident even as they blended into one another. Although they gave off a sense of quiet and tranquility, like most Impressionists paintings did, there was also a note of grief and solitude that jumped off the canvas, so strong it was almost tangible. It was like some kind of modern Impressionism with a dark emotion
lying beneath the combinations of colors and brushstrokes. She took a better look at some of the paintings and felt the urge to touch them, as if by doing so she would be able to feel his emotions, to understand who he really was.

  Caleb Morgan had always been a mystery to her, a mysterious guy she’d never stopped crushing on—and now, seeing this secret side he never showed anyone made her feel even closer to him, as if their mutual love of art had created a bond. She didn’t want to linger too long, in case he came looking and found her snooping, but she couldn’t help appreciating the beauty he kept hidden inside this room. After a quick glance at the paintings closer to her, her eyes settled on a twenty-by-fifty-inch canvas that hung on the wall closest to the window. It was another landscape, a beach one; this time the silhouette on the painting was bigger than the others, though. It was a woman with a flowing dress that seemed to flutter around her legs, while her hand held onto a white wicker hat. She was facing the sea, and her long, black hair flew in the wind. She wondered if this was someone he knew or just a random woman he’d imagined in his head. Judging by the special position on the wall, while most of the other, even more beautiful, paintings were mostly scattered on the floor against the walls, it had to mean something to him. Perhaps she was a girl he’d dated and was still in love with? For a moment, Kyla wished she was the woman who’d inspired the painting, then she shook the silly thought away and went back to staring at the canvas. The painting was so perfect, she was expecting it to come to life at any minute; she could almost feel the breeze that rustled the woman’s hair and skirt, almost smell the briny scent of the sea. A sense of pain and nostalgia engulfed her as unexpected tears prickled the back of her eyes. She blinked them away, trying and failing to remember when a simple painting had ever caused such a reaction in her.

  These paintings needed to be shared with art lovers; they couldn’t stay locked in this room, gathering dust, when people out there would pay good money to be able to own them and look at them whenever they pleased. She would definitely pay to have that special painting hanging on her tiny apartment wall. She would put it in front of her bed so it would be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last when she went to bed. It would be a reminder of the artist who’d created it, of the person who’d owned her heart for ten years and would probably own it forever.

  The floor creaked behind her and she whipped around, shame for getting caught taking the place of the calm that had warmed her insides only a moment before.

  “I was wondering what was taking you so long,” he said, his tone a little gruff. He had his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, and deep lines wrinkled his brow. Was he mad at her?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop, I… um…” She surreptitiously put the phone back into her bag and looked away, turning toward the paintings. “The door was open and I couldn’t help taking a look. They’re… wow, they’re amazing.”

  His stance relaxed a little as the frown eased, and she felt just a little better knowing that he wasn’t going to yell at her and kick her off his property. Well, at least she hoped he wouldn’t.

  “Why do you keep them hidden in here? They would be great in a gallery. You know, I could actually ask my boss if he’d like to organize an exhibit. I’m sure New Yorkers would love them.”

  He shook his head and the frown came back. “No. I don’t want people to see them. They’re private.”

  “But it’s such a shame—”

  “I said no, Kyla.” His tone was curt and she knew it was time to let it drop. She was sure Rodney would love the idea of launching a new artist, especially if Caleb ended up becoming a sensation in the artistic world and Rodney could get the credit for it. Once she had her boss’s stamp of approval, she knew Caleb would come around and be grateful for her insistence.

  “Okay, um… I think I should probably get going now,” she said, looking over his shoulder at the door. He took a step aside and she passed him by, half expecting him to grab her arm, spin her around, and kiss her passionately. She should really stop thinking like a teenager—these things only happened in movies.

  Once they were back in the garden, she picked up Sugarpuff and opened her mouth to thank him, but he beat her to it.

  “Are we still on for Friday?” He sounded as if he believed she was going to stand him up.

  “Sure. Will I meet you there?”

  He nodded. “I’ll bring a blanket and snacks.”

  She’d hoped he would offer to pick her up, show up on her parents’ doorstep with a bunch of flowers, kiss her on the cheek, and finally open the passenger door of his car for her. Going on a date with her first love was more than she’d dreamed of when she’d boarded that plane in New York, so meeting him at the park would have to be enough for now.

  After wrapping her arms around him in an impulsive and a little awkward one-armed parting hug—because, honestly, there was no way she was going to leave without getting at least a hug from him this time—she went back to her car, struggling to maintain a sort of composure, even though she wanted to skip all the way like a little girl who’d just received the best present. Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

  Chapter 8

  “Yes, I know. I’m being ridiculous.”

  Caleb tossed the fourth T-shirt on the bed, as Bear sat by the chest of drawers and watched him with round eyes and his tongue lolling out. If he could speak, it was clear he would say exactly what Caleb had just voiced.

  He’d never really cared about his appearance, seeing as people hardly even threw him a second glance when he went into town, but tonight he felt like he imagined a girl would feel when getting ready for prom. It was just a movie in the park, for heaven’s sake! He hadn’t felt this nervous—or stupid—the first time he went out with Ginny in his freshman year in college, nor when he took Adele to that musical for their first date in his junior year. He hadn’t felt this nervous when Adele had insisted he spend Thanksgiving at her parents’, even though he knew this meant she was serious about their relationship.

  Watching a movie on a blanket with Kyla Callaghan was turning out to be a serious, life-altering event.

  Checking his watch, he decided it was time he picked an outfit and got going, if he didn’t want to run the risk that some other guy stole his place next to her. He picked up a light blue, short-sleeved button-down and a pair of stonewashed jeans. Once he was dressed, he looked down at Bear, who was now half asleep, and patted his head.

  “Wish me luck, buddy.”

  Bear opened one eye, yawned, then went back to sleep. So much for being man’s best friend.

  When he got to the park, Kyla was waiting just outside the entrance, as agreed. His legs wobbled a little when his eyes landed on her. In an orange, short-sleeved summer dress, that reached just above her knees, and a pair of flat sandals, she looked more beautiful than any catwalk top model. Her silky, black hair fell loose down her back, and a smile lit up her face when she saw him. She raised her hand in greeting and he just smiled back, unable to return the greeting since his hands held a blanket and a bag of microwave popcorn. He didn’t know whether she liked them, but he thought he’d need something to keep his mind and hands occupied, just in case he felt the urge to kiss her.

  “I’ve brought popcorn,” he said, mentally kicking himself for his lame comment.

  Her face brightened. “Buttered?”

  “Why, is there any other kind?” he said with a smile.

  She brought a hand to her heart and her smile turned even wider. “Aww, a man after my own heart.”

  A weird kind of heat crept up his neck as she stepped closer. Could his luck be turning around? Could she really mean it? Was this going to be his chance? A million questions swam in his head, and he stood like a complete fool, holding a blanket and a bag of popcorn. When had he ever been so tongue-tied around a woman? Apparently, only when he was around Kyla Callaghan.

  “So, do you have a special spot or do we sit wherever?”

  Her voice pulled h
im out of the daze he was in, and he spun around, tilting his head toward a quiet spot by a sycamore tree at the far end of the park, opposite the white screen.

  “I usually sit over there. We can sit closer to the screen if you prefer.”

  She smiled. “Why am I not surprised that you chose the most secluded spot?”

  “I sit there because I don’t want to annoy people who don’t like dogs,” he said, in a mock grumbling tone. “Bear isn’t exactly a dog you can hide in a purse, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Kyla linked her arm through his and patted his forearm. His legs nearly gave out at the contact. “Lead the way; the movie should start shortly.”

  Even though his legs had the consistency of jelly, he managed to take one step after the other as he walked with her arm tucked in his.

  Some people stared at them, most probably surprised by the fact he was accompanied by a beautiful woman instead of by his dog. Kyla smiled at them and greeted those who recognized her. Friendly greetings and camaraderie were two of the perks of living in a small town—unless you had a curse linked to your family, then living in a small town wasn’t so great.

  He looked up at the screen, a part of him hoping tonight’s movie would be a horror, just so that Kyla would get scared at some point and he’d have an excuse to hug her.

  As he caught sight of the black words advertising the movie on the white screen, his hopes deflated. The poster of Roman Holiday took up most of the screen. Definitely not a movie that would have Kyla throw her arms around him, looking for reassurance. Nor a tear-jerking movie that would have her snuggle into him, looking for comfort. Ah, well. At least he could spend a couple of hours with her, and it was more than what he’d dreamed of.

  “I’m happy you could make it. I was scared you’d stand me up,” he said after they reached his spot and sat down on the blanket. Kyla frowned, and he realized he must sound pathetic. “It’s taken me ten years to ask you out, so I was a little nervous you wouldn’t show up and—” He winced. How had those words come out? He’d only meant to think them, let them swirl in his head while he made some dull small talk about the movie or the town. She really turned him into an idiot.