Page 69 of One and Only

Olive gave me a shy smile and slid her paper closer.

“Are those dahlias?” I asked, eyebrows climbing on my forehead because I was impressed.

She nodded.

“Those are really good, Olive,” I told her. “I hope your daddy plans to put you in art lessons because you are very talented.”

Olive slid a questioning look toward the man in question, and when I caught a glimpse of how he was looking at her, my whole body went butter soft and squishy.

Beckett nodded. “I think that’s a good idea, sweet pea. I’ll ask your mom and see if we can do that this summer.”

Her pleased smile was slightly hidden because she tucked right back to work on her garden.

“Can I show you a trick?” I asked her.

When she nodded, I moved to the ground, crossing my legs and reaching for the container of thin-tipped markers. Glancing at Beckett, I tilted my chin at his paper. “Got some extras over there?”

He pulled from a small stack on the other side of his legs, offering me the large hardcover picture book he was using as his drawing surface.

Olive scooched closer.

“Your petals are beautiful,” I told her. “But I can show you a really easy way to make the leaves.” I arched the spring green marker along the paper for a stem and with a few quick flicks, I added some leaves. “If you make little marks like this, see? You make your shape of the leaf, and then you can connect them once you’ve got it. It’s easier than trying to draw them the other way.”

The look on Olive’s face when she glanced back up at me was nothing short of pure adoration and awe.

“You’re so good,” she breathed.

I exhaled a laugh. “I have to draw a lot for work,” I told her, voice low and conspiratorial. “I’m usually doing bedrooms and kitchens and stuff, but every once in a while, I get to draw some outdoor pictures for what the house will look like when it’s done.” Gently, I capped the marker and handed it back to her. “Including flowers. Why don’t you give it a try?”

As she tucked her tongue between her teeth and attempted what I’d shown her, the big, quiet man next to me slowly shifted forward to watch. His shoulder brushed against mine, and I registered the smell of his body soap.

It was clean and crisp and I fought the instinct to close my eyes and lean into him.

When Olive showed me her first attempt, I beamed. “Love it.”

She rolled her lips between her teeth, then sat up to mimic my posture. “Can you show me some more?” she asked.

Beckett and I traded a loaded look.

I was officially in the Olive Coleman circle of trust.

Be cool.

I managed a small nod. “I’d love to.”

She exhaled in relief, her shoulders dropping.

It was that little glimpse that had my heart cracking straight down the middle because even as an almost-thirty something, I knew that shoulder slumping relief. And she was way too young to be feeling the kind of tense anticipation that held her body so tight.

Beckett gave her an apologetic smile. “Not tonight, Olive. We’re getting close to bedtime, but maybe tomorrow?”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ll practice really hard,” she promised.

Beckett laughed under his breath.

I held his gaze. “Can I talk to you for a second?” And I tilted my head toward the hallway.

He nodded. “Ten more minutes, then we get pajamas on, okay?” he said to Olive, ruffling her baby-fine hair with his big, big hand.

---