Page 38 of Canvas of Lies
“Together,” I promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead before brushing my lips across hers. “You have an early morning tomorrow. I’ll get out of your hair.”
I saw the debate flashing through her expressive eyes, recognized that part of her wanted to protest, to ask me to stay, but our cozy little adventure in the woods was over. It was better to readjust to real life sooner instead of later.
Kat’s pragmatism and practicality were as familiar to me as my own heart.
“I’ll get in touch with my journalist friend as soon as I find a way to contact her under the radar,” she said finally.
I cupped her cheek and she rose up on her toes to kiss me more thoroughly. When she finally drew back, I chucked her under the chin and smiled fondly.
“Sweet dreams, Kitten. I’ll get that new phone to you as soon as possible, I promise.”
Kat poked a finger into my ribs. “You’d better, or I’m keeping every cent of profit from your investments today.”
With one hand clutched over my heart, I heaved a dramatic sigh. “You are a cruel woman, Katherine Willoughby, and I am entirely at your mercy.”
If only she knew how true that was.
Chapter Fourteen
Kat
BythetimeIbid him goodnight and closed the door fifteen minutes later, I was still too keyed up to sleep. I treated myself to a hot shower and a mug of tea, did a little bit of research on the painting from my laptop, and then carefully sewed an embroidered mermaid patch over the tear in my jacket sleeve.
With a contented hum, I set it all aside and finally went to bed.
Though there was one hell of a highlight reel playing through my head, I thought back to the way Nico had spoken about his feelings for me, his reasons for staying away. How was I supposed to respond to that? I’d loved him as long as I could remember, had spent most of my childhood dreaming of fancy magazine-worthy weddings and imagining all theclichés—barefoot walks on the beach, cozying up in front of the fire together.
That last one had distracted me into commenting on the cabin’s lack of a fireplace, for fuck’s sake, and the man had simply smiled like I was some kind of prize. Where other people might get huffy or roll their eyes at my abrupt change of conversational direction, Nico had always followed along seamlessly, like it was a gift instead of a fault of mine.
As I lay in my own bed, it felt strange not to have him there at my side: holding me, kissing me, teasing me, making me feel like I finally had everything I’d ever wanted. Except . . . I wasn’t really surewhatI had. Our lives were a tangled mess, twisted up in the painting and with my father. We were stuck in limbo, unable to move forward with any kind of real relationship until those threads unraveled.
If we succeeded in getting the painting back, what then? Would Nico want me around, a constant reminder of what my father did to him? Would he even stay in town, at constant risk of discovery?
Would he ever truly be safe?
And if we failed, how long before he started to resent me for all that he’d lost, especially if he sacrificed the chance to get it back in exchange for keeping me safe?
When I finally dozed off, I dreamed about being inside the Beaumont cottage. Like a scene from a cartoon, the painting on the wall grew and grew until Nico and I walked right into the field of lavender ourselves, never to return.
Monday morning dawned far too quickly. I was disoriented by waking up alone instead of beside Nico, even though it had only been a few days—maybe a lifetime of anticipation was the reason it felt so normal.
Under typical circumstances, it would’ve felt like moving at warp speed. With him, it seemed soright.
Still, I delighted in rolling out of my own comfortable bed, selecting clothes for the day from my own wardrobe instead of Nico’s extras, and following my usual morning routine. As I left my favorite coffee shop with breakfast in hand, a familiar broad frame ranged easily beside me on the sidewalk.
“You know, if you were anyone else, I’d be calling the police to report a stalker,” I said lightly as I lifted my chin in an attempt at haughty disdain.
Nico wasn’t put off by it, not in the least. He simply handed me a gift bag and gave a lopsided grin.
“I just thought you’d be eager to get your hands on your new phone, that’s all.”
Even as my eyes lit with pleasure, I shot him a suspicious glance. “And will you be monitoring all my phone calls? Tracking my whereabouts?”
“Only the calls you make to me,” he vowed. “Pinky swear.”
I choked on a laugh, but I believed him. “Yeah, yeah. Is it ‘bring your lover to work’ day, or are you just killing time walking to the office with me?”
“Your lover, hmm? I like the sound of that.”
