Page 78 of Sack

She put on a happy face. “Maybe we can come back sometime.”

Colt smiled. “I’d like that.”

She sang along with the radio the whole drive home, feeling more content than she had in six long weeks.

Chapter Sixteen

Colt

After locking up the house, Colt trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Cress had kicked their ass that day, and although it was only eight, his body was sore and exhausted. His mind would soon follow. He hit the bathroom before flicking the light off and climbed into bed. Situating the pillow behind his back, he leaned against the headboard and adjusted the ice pack on his shoulder. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and savored the sensation of complete body relaxation.

He started to drift and shook himself alert. He needed to call Ivy before he fell asleep. She picked up on the second ring.

“How was your day?” His voice came out gruff, and he cleared his throat.

“Good. You sound tired.”

“Yeah. It was a rough practice. Coach is worried about our matchup on Sunday.”

“Why? You guys haven’t lost a game yet.”

“And he doesn’t want this one to be the first. We haven’t had a great track record with Indianapolis in the past.”

“Well, I’m not worried. You’ll kick butt.”

Colt chuckled. “I’ll pass that along. Maybe he’ll go lighter on us tomorrow. But enough about me. Tell me what you did today.”

“I finished the website for Rosa’s Bakery.”

“That’s great.”

“It is. It means I get paid. But now I don’t have anything new to work on.”

“You’ll get something soon.”

“I was toying with an idea. Tell me if you think it’s stupid.”

Colt scooted down a little to get more comfortable, readjusted his ice pack, and closed his eyes. “I’m all ears.”

“I was thinking of taking an art class. Like real art.”

“What you do is real art,” he interjected.

“You know what I mean. Like with easels and canvas and paint. I’d thought about taking a class in college, but my schedule never allowed it. I had to focus all my time on finishing my degree. But I have the time now. Business is good, better than ever, but it’s still not booming. I’m just not sure if I should waste my time on a hobby.”

Colt frowned. “Why does it have to be a hobby?”

“Well…” She was silent for a moment. “Only really great artists can make any money doing it, and even then, it’s tough. I mean, I can draw, but that’s a totally different animal. I don’t even know if I’m any good at painting.”

“You don’t know that you’re not either. At least not until you take a few classes to find out.”

“So, you don’t think it’s a dumb idea?”

“The only thing that would be dumb is if you don’t try. And who knows, maybe you’ll be the next Van Gogh.”

Ivy’s bark of laughter filled his ear. “I certainly hope not. He didn’t become famous until after he died and was mentally ill to boot. No, I’d be happy if I was good enough to put my art on a t-shirt and make a few sales. It would be kind of exciting to know someone in the big, wide world walked around wearing a painting that I made.”

“I’d be the first one in line to buy one.”

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