Page 36 of Canvas of Lies
Humming thoughtfully, I said, “The thought did cross my mind, though maybe that option should be kept as a last resort. You’ve obviously been doing plenty of research, but the specific location is one thing we don’t know for sure. There’s no way I’m letting you break into the house—if we have to steal it, I’ll bethe one going in. I snuck in and out all the time in high school. My father’s not going to have his goons beat me to death if I got caught inside, but you? There’s no guarantee.”
I watched as Nico’s urge to tell me there was no way in hell he’d allow me to put myself in danger rose and died before it reached his throat. This was no time to be macho or heavy-handed; he clearly knew it would certainly do more harm than good.
“Agree to disagree,” he said in a low voice.
Stealing the painting was firmly relegated to the role of last resort, because I was right and he knew it. It would make more sense for me to be the one to go in, even if we ended up just needing reconnaissance, and he’d probably cut off his own arm before he’d put me at risk.
I squeezed his hand because I knew just what was going on inside his head.
“Look, as much as I’m enjoying this little love nest you’ve got here, I think it would be smart to combine forces back home so we don’t draw too much attention to ourselves. Erin might forgive the aberration from my schedule for a day or two, but if I’m gone longer than that, she’s going to get suspicious. I told her I should be back at work Monday.”
“Love nest, huh? I like the sound of that. How about we keepenjoyingthis little love nest until tomorrow afternoon, if I promise that I’ll get you back to your apartment in time to get a good night’s sleep before heading to work Monday morning?God forbid I throw you too far off schedule,” he murmured, nuzzling my ear.
My annoyed humph turned into a sigh as his lips traced my jawline. “I like my routine, is that a crime?”
“No,” he replied, nipping lightly at my chin, “but maybe we can throw some new routines into the mix.”
“You know, Nico, I think you might just be able to convince me.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nico
BySundayafternoon,Iknew I would never look at the cabin the same way again. From my solitary bachelor escape to our own delightful love nest—it was an evolution I hadn’t foreseen but definitely didn’t regret. There’d been a few scattered brainstorming sessions involved, but for the most part, Kat managed to keep my mind completely off of the painting.
As a result, I felt curiously lighthearted as we packed a small cooler with the remaining perishables from the fridge, even if I suspected she’d done plenty of silent scheming in her own head.
“Where’s your car?” Kat asked suddenly. “I didn’t see it, not even when I took off.”
I grinned. “Parked about fifty yards south, in the underbrush. I was afraid you might have learned how to hot-wire acar over the years and didn’t want to tempt fate by parking right outside.”
“Hmm. That’s unfortunately not in my skill set,” she mused, then cocked a brow at me. “Doyouknow how to hot-wire a car?”
“Sadly, no. Maybe we should learn together.”
“It would’ve been a useful skill that time your dad caught me stealing keys to my father’s Corvette in high school.”
I choked on a laugh. “He never told me about that.”
“I swore him to secrecy.”
Her brilliant grin filled me with an oddly buoyant feeling of hope. After carefully placing the last two bottles of hard cider into the cooler, I flipped the lid into place and pulled Kat into my arms. She immediately snuggled in, rubbing her face against my chest like that was right where she belonged.
As far as I was concerned, it was exactly that.
For several long moments, we stood there together, soaking in the simple comfort of each other’s presence. Finally, I loosened my hold, tipped her chin up, and kissed her soundly.
“Let’s get you home, Kitten.”
The drive back to Spruce Hill felt like a blast from the past, a comfortable, intimate interlude far removed from our real lives. We sang along to the radio, slowed down to let a small family of deer cross the road, and eventually stopped at a yard sale just outside of town.
I smiled indulgently as I watched Kat explore the goods. She looked like a kid in a candy shop, exclaiming over cheap butnostalgic junk as much as she did over the one or two items she thought might be worth fixing up to resell. Those blue eyes were alight with enthusiasm, her pretty lips curved in a near-constant smile as she studied the two folding tables full of toys.
“I still can’t believe you broke my phone,” she muttered under her breath as she set a toy car back down again. “I could be looking this stuff up, but no, it had to be tossed into the damn dumpster.”
I took the two items from her hands, held them up to show the middle aged woman behind the table, and handed over a ten dollar bill.
“Problem solved,” I said, winking at the saleswoman before turning the goods over to Kat. “And I’m very sorry about your phone, for the tenth time. I’ve already ordered a replacement for you. It’s a newer model, better camera.”
