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Juliet dialed the number then waited. She had a patient waiting for her in an examining room, but she hadn’t been able to sleep all night. The only thing she’d thought about was Brian and their relationship. She’d gone over every angle of their conversation and tried to figure out what she could have done better, what would have kept him. Now, she was terrified that she was about to lose him. For good.

“Hello, and welcome to the Brian Littrell show! How may I accommodate you?”

Juliet nearly lost it when she heard his goofy greeting. She loved him. How could she bear to let him go? “Brian, it’s me.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath before he spoke. “Hey, Juliet. How are you?”

“I-I’m okay. I just, Brian, I can’t stop thinking about how badly I messed up,” she whispered.

“Juliet…”

“Please don’t say you’re sorry that things are turning out the way they are,” she pleaded. “It’s just that we’ve been together for so long, and I’m so in love with you. Brian, I don’t want to live without you by my side. I can’t just let us go like this. Please tell me that I didn’t screw everything up so badly that you can’t even think about being with me again.” Screw pride, she thought. She was desperate to hold onto the man she loved.

There was a long silence, and she thought he’d hung up. When she heard his voice again, she had a moment to be relieved that he was still talking to her before he cut her off at the knees.

“I’m sorry, Juliet. I have a meeting to get to. We’ll definitely talk. I promise.” He paused. “I-I’ll see you later.”

When she heard the click, she stared at the receiver for long moments. The tears that blurred her vision streamed down her face. Juliet barely felt them as her heart shattered. He’d just dismissed her feelings for a meeting? He wouldn’t have meant to be cruel, she knew, but that action had smashed her heart.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on healing, she called the nurse practitioner she had as a substitute. When the other woman had arrived, she stepped out into the bright sunlight and wondered how the sun could shine when, inside, she was as cold as the Arctic tundra.

***

“I think all the two of you need is time,” Christine said for the hundredth time as she watched one of her closest friends dissolve into a puddle of tears again.

She hated seeing Juliet, usually one of the strongest women she knew, broken like this. How could she tell Juliet that the man she loved didn’t love her? Well, Brian loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her, and that made all the difference. Christine had asked him once why, if he wasn’t in love with Juliet, he bothered to stay with her. His answer had been that he cared about her and didn’t want anyone else at the moment. What had happened, Christine wondered, to change all that in a few days?

Juliet brushed the tears aside and lifted her bloodshot eyes. “He’s never going to love me, is he? I mean, if he hasn’t fallen in love with me in six years, he’s never going to love me the way I need, right?”

“I don’t know.” Which was the truth, Christine reminded herself. “Then again, it’s not as though the two of you have been together for every day of the past six years, either. You broke up and got back together more times than I can remember.”

“Yes, but those times were mutually decided upon,” Juliet began but Christine cut her off.

“Honey, if you’re deciding to break up, then there was something wrong. The fact that you kept separating then getting back together again should have told you that you didn’t have the best of relationships,” Christine pointed out. “If he’d really wanted to be with you from the start, he wouldn’t have let you go so many times.”

“Yes, but…” What could she say to the truth? Juliet thought sadly. “So, now what?”

Christine handed her a box of tissues and studied her friend’s face. “You could just give him time, like he said. Maybe things will start to work out now that you’ve pretty much slapped your feelings in his face.”

“Or maybe they’ll get worse?”

“Think positive, Jules!” Christine shook her head. “In the meantime, don’t dwell on it too much.”

“I’ll try,” Juliet murmured.

Christine squeezed her hand comfortingly. “You’ll get through this. One way or other.” She patted her belly. “So, you’re still coming to the barbecue tonight, right? I mean, you’re not going to let Brian’s lack of feelings chase you off, are you?”

“What barbecue?”

Christine’s brows shot up. “You weren’t invited? That’s…surprising.” She shook her head. “Brian’s throwing a barbecue tonight at his place. It’s in celebration of my pregnancy.”

The pang hit like an arrow in her heart, and Juliet tried to fight off the hurt she felt when she realized that Brian hadn’t even brought up the barbecue when they’d been discussing Alex and Christine’s child. Had she missed the signs that signaled that their relationship had been heading nowhere?

“Come anyway.”

“What?” Juliet glanced over, surprised. “I can’t just go when I wasn’t invited, Chris. That’s rude.”

Christine waved it off. “You’re a close friend of mine, and the bash happens to be for me and the little one I’m carrying.” She laid a hand over her stomach. “If I say you’re coming, you’re coming. Brian can just deal with it.”

Though she found herself agreeing to go, Juliet couldn’t help but wonder if she was just bringing on more heartbreak for herself.

***

“You’re giving me a day and a half to paint this?” Kevin frowned at the phone he held. “Howie, I’m not a freaking miracle worker. Stuff like this takes time.”

“Kev, just look at the sketch and then tell me if you’re not inspired to paint the whole thing ASAP.” Howie was calm as a lake.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fax it over, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, Kev. I owe you one.” There was a pause. “I’m not going to fax it so much as I’m sending it over to you.”

“You’re coming by?” Kevin tried to remember the last time he’d seen his best friend, though the man lived across the street.

Howie chuckled at the surprise in Kevin’s voice. “No, unfortunately, I don’t have that much time in my schedule. I’m sending it over with Gwen. I figure, she’s the artist, so she can point you in the right direction with the design. Is that okay?”

Gwen. He’d spent all morning thinking about her and how he’d see her again for dinner. He was well on his way to being truly hooked, and he knew it. Though he wasn’t sure how he felt about that, he was sure he liked the feelings she stirred in him.

He grinned at the thought of having her in his home. Alone.

“Kevin?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Send Gwen over. I’ll do your painting, Howie.”

“Great! Then I’ll see you tonight at Brian’s?”

“Yeah. See ya later.”

Kevin paced the house and wondered if everything was clean enough for the unexpected visit. True, the books were shelved a little haphazardly, and all the candles were certainly a fire hazard, but it wasn’t as though Gwen would want to light a candle. He flicked a finger over the coffee table in the den and frowned at the smudge of dust on his finger. Maybe he could dust a little bit before she came.

When the doorbell chimed, he sighed. Well, dirty or not, Gwen would be in his home, and he fought back the nerves he felt. It wasn’t as though she was the only woman in the world, and he had to impress her, he reminded himself. She wasn’t coming to play anyway. She was coming over in a professional capacity, and that was how he’d deal with her at the moment. Later…

When the doorbell rang again, he hurried to the door and pulled it open. “Hey!”

Gwen smiled cautiously. “Hi. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important, but Howie said it was fine if I came over.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Come on in.” He held the door open for her and found himself grinning foolishly as he breathed in the scent of her light perfume. Professional capacity, he reminded himself and followed her into the living room.

It felt right, Gwen thought the instant her feet entered Kevin’s house. Everything was so cozy, welcoming, and she wondered why she’d been nervous about visiting him. Though she loved neatness, she was enjoying the clutter of his home. There were knickknacks scattered over every possible shelf and table, alongside books and scented candles. She wondered if the candles were his idea or Kirby’s.

“So,” Kevin began, pulling her out of her study of his home. “Let’s see this sketch that I need to paint.”

She pulled out a manila folder and handed it to him. He took it, opened it, and studied the sheet of paper. She tried to gauge his reaction to her idea, but his face gave nothing away. Seconds dragged as she wondered what it was that could be keeping him so caught up in a simple ink drawing. Her nerves were beginning to scream, and he continued to turn the paper this way and that.

Finally, when she was sure she’d scream, he looked up at her and smiled. “It’s perfect.”

“Really?” Her breath whooshed out. “I thought, from the way you were scrutinizing it, that it wasn’t meeting your standards.”

Kevin reached over and took her hand in his. “Gwen, I don’t have really high standards. Even if I did, this sketch, your idea…it’s perfect. I mean, it wasn’t what I’d imagined for the memorial whenever I thought about it, but it’s great! It’s exactly right.”

“But if it wasn’t what you’d thought, how can it be perfect?”

“Sometimes, someone else knows exactly what you need, even if you didn’t think you needed it. This is one of those times,” he told her.

When she nodded a little, he tipped her chin up so he could see her eyes. The nerves were still apparent, and he wondered at how she’d managed to work in such a high power job when she constantly worried about her abilities. Knowing she needed reassurance, he told himself to screw professional capacity. It was for Wall Street businessmen, and he was an artist.

Leaning over, he laid his lips on hers in a kiss that was gentle, comforting, and he found himself lingering over it even as it turned from simple reassurance to something that caused his pulse to race. He broke away softly and smiled at the perplexed look on her face.

Kevin stood and held out a hand. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

He waved the sheet he still held. “To start the painting, Gwen. I’ve got a little more than twenty four hours to do it, so I’ve got to get started right away.” He winked. “Good thing I have a partner.”

***

“I’m thinking a bronze tone.” She tilted her head as he mixed paint. “I mean, the bronze will be warmer than, say, titanium. Silvers and golds always seem so cold, and the legend needs something warmer to symbolize it. Right?”

Kevin nodded. “Bronze is what I think a lot of people imagined when they thought about the memorial. At the town meeting last year, when Bri first brought the idea up, he wanted something in a copper. But, I think if we can find a metal, or create an alloy, that’s a mix of copper and something else that’ll make it a little lighter, add a flicker of gold…it’ll be perfect.”

“Can you paint that color?” Gwen wondered as she watched his hands add paint, stir, dab, and stir again. Her sketch was beginning to come to life on his canvas, and she had to admit it was exciting.

He nodded. “I think it shouldn’t be too difficult.” He dropped a kiss on her lips before turning back to the canvas.

Gwen lifted a hand to her mouth as she turned in a circle to admire his studio for the umpteenth time. She couldn’t believe all the canvases that lay on the floor, leaned against the wall, and sat in stacks. There were gorgeous paintings of what she now recognized as different angles of Seven Falls and its surroundings. The paintings were vivid and colorful, and she knew she’d have to be blind to not see the love Kevin felt for his corner of the world. The love that burst out of all of his work.

“You don’t paint people,” she murmured.

“Hmm?”

She turned to him. “Kevin, why don’t you paint people? I mean, I love your landscapes, but what about painting people?”

He set the color palette on a table and moved to where she stood studying a set of paintings of a forest. His arms went around her as he lightly nuzzled her neck.

Gwen leaned back into his arms and the strength she’d been discovering for the past two and a half days. The past three hours with him, though, had been the best. They’d worked together on transferring her sketch onto the canvas, and, in between arguments on angles and perspectives, he’d held her, kissed her, and showered her with physical affection.

It wasn’t just the physical affection, though, that was keeping her captivated. The night before, they’d discussed everything from art to politics, and the discussion had been restarted while he’d been painting. He was intelligent, quick, and had such conviction in the environmental cause. All of it, all of him, overwhelmed her because she’d never thought a man like him could ever be interested in someone like her. He was also stirring up feelings in her she’d never expected to feel again.

“You’re thinking worrisome thoughts,” he murmured against her neck. “I can hear them.”

She turned in his arms and rested her head against his shoulder. “Kevin, you’re not answering my question.”

“What was it again?” His voice was amused.

“Why don’t you paint people?”

He was quiet for a few moments; long enough that she leaned back to look up at his face. “Kevin?”

“I used to,” he murmured. “I used to draw my mother and my older brothers when I was younger. Later, I painted Mia and Kirby all the time, enough times that Mia thought I was edging into obsession with the two of them. When she was pregnant the second time, I did so many studies of her.” He let go of Gwen and spun away to pace, one hand running through his hair restlessly. “I loved her so much, and I couldn’t get enough. When she was gone, I stopped painting people. I couldn’t handle looking at the canvases that threw Mia in my face every time I turned around.”

“What happened to all the paintings?”

He glanced over at her. Gwen stood amid his work, her hands folded, her eyes solemn. He didn’t want the sympathy he saw in her eyes. “I was going to burn them. Callie stopped me. Callie Dorough, Howie’s wife, is Mia’s sister,” he explained. “So, instead of burning the paintings, Cal took them all. I don’t know what she did, but I don’t think I could bear to look at them again.”

“Maybe you should. Maybe it’s all a part of letting her go,” Gwen pointed out quietly.

Why wasn’t she upset? Kevin wondered. Why wasn’t she hurt that he was talking about his wife when, only minutes before, he’d been holding her? He grabbed her arms, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“I loved her, Gwen. I was crazy in love with my wife for more than half of my life, and, God help me, if it wasn’t for Kirby, I would’ve followed her into death. Do you understand that?”

If he’d thought he would shock her with that confession, she realized that she wasn’t shocked. “I do.” But she was afraid. Terrified that, by opening himself up like this, he’d pushed her closer to the edge—one that she’d tried to avoid for so many years. She didn’t want this jittery feeling in her heart, didn’t want to start needing him. Need, after all, was one step away from love, and to love Kevin would be…

Everything.

Kevin saw the emotions flit through her eyes and saw something other than the fear he’d thought he’d see after the statement he’d just made. He wasn’t sure of her feelings, let alone his own. Whatever was happening was too much, too soon for him. And yet, he was drawn to her like a moth to flame.

“Gwen.” His voice was quiet now. “I’ve never told anyone that before, but I need you to know. I don’t want to be unfair to you, to make you believe that I can offer you something when I don’t know if I’m completely over my wife.”

She lifted a hand to his cheek and smiled. “It’s only been a few days since I met you, Kevin, and I don’t want to have you disappear on me now. Trust me to tell you when I feel neglected.” She shook her head slightly. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel that from you, though. But…can you trust me?”

“I told you last night, Gwen. I do trust you.” His lips brushed over her forehead even as a feeling of relief that he hadn’t scared her off slid through him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For understanding what I’m feeling when I don’t know what I’m feeling.” He grinned. “I’ve never had someone know what’s going through my head in quite the same way you do.”

“Well.” She patted his cheek. “There’s a first time for everything.”