Page 12 of The Silver Fox Bidder

I narrow my eyes. “How famousareyou?”

He sighs. “Famous enough to entice a movie star to buy a painting for three hundred grand.”

My stomach flips. “But IGoogledyou. There’s no trace of you at all. You’re a ghost.”

Tank smirks. “Changed my name. Needed anonymity after—” His voice falters.

“After?” I prompt, worried about what he’s about to reveal.Is this where he confesses to being in witness protection?

He takes a shaky breath. “After my wife passed away.”

A cold, guilty weight settles in my chest. “Oh, Tank,” I whisper, pressing a hand to my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

He folds me into his arms, holding me tight. “Thank you.” His voice is steady, but I feel the emotion beneath it. “Her name was Tiffany. I was devastated when I lost her. I couldn’t paint for years. Eventually, I moved here for a fresh start.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, stroking his arm. “And your name…?”

“Walk Tankersley,” he says. “But my friends have always called me Tank.”

I blink. “I’ll have to Google youagainlater,” I tease gently. “Find out therealdirt.”

His lips quirk. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.”

I look into his eyes, my own steady. “Everything. I want to knoweverything.”

He nods, rubbing slow circles on my back. “I’m an only child. Grew up in Hoboken, New Jersey. My parents still live there. Went to NYU for college. Met Tiffany there—she was studying psychology.” His voice softens at the memory. “We were happy for a long time. Until…”

“How did she die?” I ask, squeezing his hand.

“Car accident. A truck ran a red light, T-boning her. Investigators said it was quick. She didn’t suffer.” His voice is even, but I feel the weight of his grief.

I brush my lips against his shoulder. “That’s a relief, at least.”

Tank nods, then exhales. “After that, I moved here. Slowly found my way back to art. And now, I have love again, too.”

The words send a shockwave through me.Love.

A thick silence stretches between us, but neither of us move away. Then, suddenly, his mouth is on mine again, claiming, needing. This time, there’s no hesitation. Justfire.

When we finally pull apart, breathless, he rests his forehead against mine. “Stay.”

“For the day?” I whisper.

“Forforever.”

My heart pounds against my ribs. “I will,” I say, voice trembling. “If you do something for me.”

His grip tightens on my waist. “Anything.”

I run a hand down his chest, letting my fingers rest over his heart. “Show your new art. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Just a gallery show here in Hawks Roost. Let the people in townseeyou.”

His body tenses beside me. I can almosthearthe walls going up again. “Lucy—”

“No,” I say firmly, placing a hand on his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. “You can’t keep hiding. This—” I gesture to the cabin, the walls filled with his breathtaking work. “—isincredible. The world deserves to see it.Youdeserve to be seen.”

Tank stares at me for a long time, his jaw working.

Finally, he exhales. “One show.”

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