Page 31 of The Art of You

“Tried to capture my feelings through drawing instead of words.” I sighed, my lips fighting to smile at memories because they still hurt to think about. “Bianca was often the subject of a lot of my art.” I peeked over at the bench as if she were sitting there now, a pencil behind her ear and another in her hand as she scribbled her stories in a notebook.

I startled when Hudson abruptly stood before me and brushed a few wild strands of hair away from my face. When our eyes locked at the intimate gesture, he jerked his hand back as if shocked by what he’d done.

Ray-Bans back on, he hid both his black eye and his emotions. “I know you quit drawing when she died, but do you think you’ll ever paint again?”

“I’ve tried to pick up a pencil and a paintbrush since, but my heart was never in it.” I went over to a bush and plucked a flower. “I doubt I’ll ever stand behind a canvas again.”

“That’s too bad. You were a damn good artist.”

“I was young. It was more of a way to keep myself busy and out of trouble than anything else.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that, even if you were quite the rebel back in the day.” With his index finger, he shifted his glasses down his nose so I could read the look in his eyes that said,Yeah, I know about that.

“Who told you I was such a bad girl?”

His mouth tightened, and he pushed his glasses back over his eyes, shaking his head. “Anyway.”

“Nice redirect.”

“I thought so,” he tossed out casually while removing hisphone from his back pocket. “Constantine texted. He’s worried. What do I tell him?”

“Mmm.” I plucked a petal and let it go. “That we’re in the garden, and you’re comforting me. Dot. Dot. Dot.” I pointed at his phone with the flower. “Be sure to add the ellipsis. The sentence loses its meaning without it.” Holding a straight face while saying that was hard, but I managed it.

Hudson laughed, and that sound trumped all other ambient noises surrounding us.

“I’m sure that’ll go over well.” He typed something back to my brother, lifting his chin toward the house. “Bet that sniper on the roof will take me out the second he sees us exit the garden.”

“You and I have very different ideas of comfort, I guess.” I was on a roll; why stop now? “I was simply thinking about an innocent little hug. Your mind went to the gutter, sir.”

He didn’t give me the satisfaction of a smart-ass response to my comment. I’d consider the smirk continuing to fight for space on his face a win, though.

I freed another petal into the air, and Hudson focused on it as it drifted to the pavers between us. “How much time did you buy me before the grump finds us?”

He made a zero with his hand, then pocketed his hand. “He just sent another text. Security alerted him that Adelina just pulled up to the gate. Took a friend’s car instead of her FBI-issued Chevy.”

Ohh.At the news, I let go of the flower. I knew she was on her way, but I hadn’t expected her quite this early. Like before-coffee early. “Well, hopefully, she has news she didn’t want to share over the phone.”

“If she has nothing now, she’ll turn something up soon. This is her area of specialty, and?—”

“You said she handles kidnapping cases. Lola’s safe, and Iwasn’t kidnapped . . .” I didn’t catch his drift. Maybe coffee was required for drift catching.

“Many of Adelina’s cases have involved women who were stalked before becoming victims of an abduction.” He gestured with his good arm to start walking, and I obeyed his command, hoping he’d explain on the move.

When his words sunk in, I halted and spun around to face him. He lowered his chin to where my hands now rested on his chest.When did that happen?

“You think I have a stalker and someone planned to kidnap me? Just because of that photo and my overactive imagination about the fourth-floor window across from my house?”

He circled my wrist but didn’t force away my touch. “Let’s just hear what Adelina says, and we’ll go from there.” He freed his hold of my wrist, and I lowered my hands to my sides. “Someone left you a photo, crashed into the Porsche, killed two men, and we have no idea what’s connected to what, but we’re going to figure this out.” He appeared far more confident this morning without the pain meds in his system. The SEAL was in front of me now, a fighter. “We won’t let this asshole win.”

“What if there’s more than one asshole?” I blurted what was on the top of my mind, doubtful my photo issue was tied to the dead security guards.

“The world’s full of assholes, nothing we can do about that. We just have to figure out which ones are out to get us and stop them before they do.”

He was right, I supposed. “Yeah, okay.” I went to turn, but Hudson stopped me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “What are you doing?”

“What I wanted to do yesterday, but didn’t.”

“And that is?” I stared at him, not blinking.

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