Page 43 of The Love In Sunsets

He lifted his shoulder and grimaced. Eloise propped herself up on her elbow. “Has no one told you that you’re sexy? Hot? Fucking amazing in bed?”

“I’ve been told I’m good looking.”

“Nah.” Eloise sat up. “You’re a fucking smoke show, Kiel. These eyes,” she said as she lightly traced his eyebrows, “are so soulful, framed by eyelashes that could make every female jealous. Then these cheekbones,” she moved her finger to his cheek, gently caressing it as his eyes fluttered closed at the contact, “could cut paper. They are so sharp. And as for this mouth,” she leaned forward and tugged his lips with her teeth, “so skillful and dominant and I can’t get enough of it. The first time I saw you, bam. My lady bits were like hello, stranger. And I don’t normally pay any attention to tourists, but you . . .” She poked his chest for emphasis. “You freaking hit me square in the chest and that has never happened before. I spent the next day looking for you in crowds when I should’ve been focused on painting.”

“And yet, I feel like you dodged me.”

Eloise smiled shyly. “I sort of did. I couldn’t let you catch me on your first try.”

Kiel pulled her into his arms and kissed her wildly while tickling her. She yelped and pretended to fight back, but never tried to get away. When they had their wits about them again, they laughed.

“What are your plans for the day?”

“The normal,” she told him. “I’ll head to the beach and set up. Get some paint on the canvas.”

“And the one you did in the middle of the night?”

Eloise looked toward her deck. They had left the doors open all night. He should’ve closed them. It didn’t matter if they were on the second story, you could never be too safe.

“You like that one, don’t you?”

Kiel nodded. “I think it’s beautiful. Like you.”

“I could tell you a million and one things wrong with it.”

“And it would still be perfect.”

Eloise got out of bed and strode across the room, naked as the day she was born. Kiel thought it funny, seeing her this free. When he saw her later, she’d be in overalls, hiding her glorious body from anyone who came near her. He was fine with that.

She returned with the canvas and handed it to him.

“Did you sign it?”

Her cheeks reddened, and she slowly shook her head. “Why would you want me to sign it?”

“So I can say I knew you when you’re famous.”

Eloise watched him for a minute with contemplation in her eyes. She reluctantly took the painting back, stood it on the easel while she signed it, and then brought it back to him. “There, now you have my autograph.”

“An original piece by Eloise Harris. Am I the first one?”

She nodded and crawled back into bed. “No one has ever asked before except for my aunt.”

“Not your parents?”

“Nooo,” she said, exaggerating the O. “I told you about my dad. And my mom doesn’t appreciate art. She thinks everyone can paint the next Mona Lisa.”

“I know nothing about art, but even I know that’s not possible.”

“I tried though. About a year ago, I spent a day in the Louvre, studying the painting. This is the most popular attraction there, which is a shame because the museum itself is fascinating. When you finally get a chance to see her, it’s extremely underwhelming. The media makes you think she’s this big booming presence when the painting is fairly small. They herd people in, and you’re given so much time to look and then move on. Except I stayed. I’d move off to the side or whatever and just sketch what I saw. I couldn’t even come close to recreating her.”

“Someday, I plan to travel. See the world.”

This brought a smile to Eloise’s face. “Me too, except I’m going to paint what I see.”

They continued to talk for the next hour. Kiel left Eloise at her apartment and drove the Wrangler back to the rental agency. He thought about keeping it but didn’t see a need. Eventually, he’d tell his parents about Eloise, and then borrow their car if need be.

When he finally made it home, he walked in and found his sister, Ciara, crying.

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