Page 70 of Seen Knot Heard

“It’s your imagination that gives it life.” I shade in the large teapot. “I bet Uncle Blake will want to hang this one in his room.”

“Mamma never hung any of my pictures,” Quinn confides, her face downcast. “She threw them away.”

My heart aches for this little girl. “My mom did the same thing to me when I brought stuff home from school.”

Quinn looks up at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. After a while, it made me stop wanting to do art. But it’s hard when you’re creative, isn’t it?” I smooth a hand over her hair. “Your imagination is so big that it just bursts out of you.”

Tears shimmer in Quinn’s eyes. “I never want to stop drawing or writing stories.”

“Then you never should.” I glance at Holden, who pretends to be fascinated by the soup simmering on the stovetop. “Here, your creations won’t ever be thrown away.”

Quinn sniffles, then leans over and hugs me, the scent of sugar and baby powder that clings to her filling the air. I hug her back, wishing someone had told me as a child not to give up on my dreams. It had taken leaving home and striking out on my own in university before I found anyone who believed in me.

After a moment, I straighten and pretend I don’t see Quinn wipe her sleeve across her face. “What do you think about purple roses?”

She leans against my side. “Can you show me how to draw them?”

“How about we learn together?” I catch Holden’s attention. “Can you pull up a picture of a rose on your phone?”

“Sure thing.” He comes over to join us, his eyes shining a little too brightly, and sets his phone on the counter above our picture. “One rose for my ladies.”

He kisses Quinn’s cheek, making her giggle, then turns to me. I offer him my cheek, too, and blush when his lips linger before he returns to his stove.

Then, Quinn and I work together, creating a magical garden for the fairy tea party by the pond to take place, safe and warm in Holden’s kitchen.

As Quinn and I tidy up the art supplies, the murmur of deep voices catches my attention. Curiosity piqued, I slide off my stool and push open the door to see Blake, Nathaniel, and Dominic coming downstairs.

Blake’s head turns toward me. “Is that a little mouse peeking out of the kitchen?”

Quinn joins me, poking her head out below mine.

“Two mice!” Blake jogs the rest of the way downstairs. “We’ll have to put out traps if this keeps up!”

“Perfect timing, everyone,” Holden announces. “Soup’s ready. Chloe, will you grab the breadbasket? Quinn, fetch the spoons.”

We duck back into the kitchen to do as directed and join the others out in the dining room.

Holden follows us with bowls of stew and macaroni for Quinn. “I hope you’re all hungry.”

I eye the other men. “Yes, did you work up an appetite doing…?”

“Nu-uh.” Blake waggles a finger at me. “Shush, woman, and eat your dinner.”

I puff my cheeks at him, but I’ve been smelling this stew all day, and my stomach growls for a taste.

“Chloe, sit next to me!” Quinn pats the bench beside her.

“Don’t mind if I do!” I take my seat, and Blake slides in on my other side, his leg pressed to mine under the table.

With the warmth of his body seeping into me, I struggle to focus on both the food and the conversation.

Especially when his hand covers my thigh under the table, kneading my soft flesh. “Did you have fun with Quinn and Holden today?”

“We did!” Quinn launches into our adventures of the afternoon, saving me from trying to talk as his hand moves higher.

When it becomes too much, I elbow him in warning. Wasn’t he the one who said earlier that we couldn’t do anything while Quinn was bunking in his room?

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