Page 72 of Under My Skin
He arches an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“You’re great—I mean, it’s great.” I swallow. “The logo is great.”
Amusement shines in his eyes, but he has enough decency not to call me out on my blunder. “Great enough for me to see?”
I peek down at the design before holding it against my chest again. “Maybe?” I wince as the word leaves my lips, already regretting it because I know he’ll take it as an invitation to look at my unfinished work.
He laughs. “Only if you’re ready to share it.”
My shoulders relax. Okay, maybe he won’t wedge open the door I cracked. Craning my neck, I search for the sketchpad. “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?”
His gaze trails over me before he says, “Are we still talking about the logo?”
“Yes,” I say with a laugh.
“Damn,” he mutters in mock disappointment.
My smile grows, and his follows before he hands over the sketchbook he had hidden behind his back. “Here.”
My mouth falls open, and I abandon my tablet to the chair next to me so I can take the pad from him. In a matter of minutes, he’s managed to sketch his view of me from where he stood. He captured me sitting on this chair with my leg hitched up as Ibalanced my tablet perfectly. “I thought . . .” I blink and force myself to look up at him. “I thought you were just finishing the other one.”
“Oh, I did.” He leans forward and flips the pad to its previous page where he’s finished the portrait of me.
I look between him and the sketch. How did he do that so quickly? Flipping back to the second sketch, I take in every detail that caught his eye while he was drawing.
“It’s rough. I know. If I were going to do something with it, I’d clean it up.”
“Rough?’ I shake my head. “Everett, this is amazing. I can’t believe you came up with this so quickly.”
He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not like I had to come up with anything. The scene was sitting right in front of me.”
“But still!” I balk at him. How does he not realize how amazing he is?
Ignoring me, he reaches for the tablet on the other chair. “You’re the one creating something new.”
My impulse is to snatch the tablet back from him, but I think better of it when he narrows his eyes at me. “I showed you mine,” he mutters as he turns the tablet over to look at what I’ve done so far.
I bite my thumbnail as I wait to hear what he thinks, but before he has the chance, I blurt, “I tried to match your dad’s keychain.”
Everett’s eyes flick up to meet mine before he looks back at the tablet, his expression softening. “I love it.” He says it so simply, like if I had asked him for his favorite color.
His reaction has me second guessing if I heard him right. “It isn’t finished yet.”
Everett’s brows furrow, and he holds the tablet further away. “It’s not?”
When he lifts his stare to meet mine, I shake my head.
He looks back at the tablet and tilts his head. “What’s left for you to do?”
“Fix it.”
He frowns. “It doesn’t need to be fixed. I said I love it.”
I laugh as I reach for my tablet. “That doesn’t make it done.”
He grins as he holds my design further away from me. “Sure it does.” Leaning over me, he presses a kiss to my lips, and my outstretched arm falls, immediately giving up the fight. He smiles against my lips. “Thank you.” He kisses me again, and this time, my entire body relaxes. I don’t understand how someone I’ve known for so long can suddenly have this effect on me, but I love it. I love how I feel when I’m around him, the familiar and unfamiliar swirling to make an Everett cocktail I could easily get addicted to.
Reaching up with one hand, I let my fingers brush over the dark stubble on his cheek before teasing the hair at the base of his neck.
