Second Chances (18 page)

She sighed contentedly and rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. The woman who had acted with such abandon last night was alien to her. Never had she been able to give herself so completely, to relinquish all of her heart. And never had she been so intimately bold with a man. Her cheeks turned hot at the thought of her actions. Even with her husband, she had still held back because of her fear of rejection.

The extent of David’s effect on her was unexplainable. Not only had her creative spark re-ignited, an undiscovered part of her soul awakened. The intensity of it frightened her, for the territory was foreign and unknown to her. And unknown meant out of her control.

She brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead. Another thing out of her control was Sophie Miller. Kristin possessed complete certainty that Sophie would never back away from David without a fight. Last night didn’t change the fact that David was still under the woman’s thumb. In fact, the night probably would make things even more complex.

Kristin gazed at David once again. He stirred briefly and a lock of hair fell over his left eye. Her hand twitched, longing to brush it away. She fought the urge and smiled. Even in sleep he was hard to resist.

Not wishing to disturb him, Kristin quietly eased back the covers and rose from the bed. She strode to the closet and silently donned a robe, belting it around her waist. Kristin fetched a brush from her dresser and attempted to smooth the tangles that had taken up residence in her hair during the night. She stared at herself in the mirror as she brushed.

The face that peered back at her was the same one she’d seen for years, but it was also different. Her eyes shone brightly in the half light of the room while she studied her reflection. Kristin couldn’t quite put her finger on what was different, but it obviously had everything to do with the man sleeping in her bed.

Kristin replaced the brush noiselessly and turned back to the bed. She leaned against the dresser while she studied David’s muscular body intertwined in her sheets. How would she define their relationship now? Definitely more than friends. Casual lovers? There was nothing casual about how her heart ached with the thought of him not being in her life. Besides, hadn’t he admitted he loved her? There was no denying now that she’d fallen in love with him.

Kristin shook her head to clear it from the rambling thoughts inside. Quietly, she made her way out of the bedroom to make some coffee. Her noisy mind clamored with a chaotic mix of conflicting thoughts and emotions. The coffee brewed as she paced around the living room, her body refusing to be still just as much as her brain refused to be silent. Why was she so jittery and restless?

Kristin ceased her pacing and took a deep breath. The door to her studio loomed before her as if her feet had brought her here on automatic pilot. Of course she would come here, the place where she dealt with all of her emotions, then locked them away from the world. The door clicked open and she stepped inside.

The natural light streamed in through the windows, highlighting the tools and results of her emotional therapy. Kristin leisurely strolled around the room’s small perimeter, letting her fingers brush items as she passed. Canvases, brushes, tubes of paint. Their tactile presence comforted her like an old friend.

Kristin moved to the center of the room and closed her eyes. A deep breath carried the cloying scent of the paint into her lungs. Even just the smell was enough to calm her jangled nerves. She continued to inhale deeply, each breath releasing the noise in her head.

“Blimey.”

Kristin’s eyes snapped open and she spun around. David stood in the doorway to the studio, his eyes wide as he stared around the room. He’d pulled on his jeans, but remained shirtless.

A wave of cold panic washed over her, and her body trembled with spasms of alarm. “David, I didn’t hear you get up.”

He strode into the room and turned to a large stack of canvases against the wall to his left. He flipped through the stack briefly. “Did you paint all of these?”

Kristin swallowed hard as the panic filled her entire body. Another person in her studio left her exposed. This room was the last retreat for her true self, a hidden part, kept away from the world. It contained the last undisclosed part of her soul, that part that she never let anyone see.

The paintings in this room were her own personal triumphs, heartaches, and secret longings. No one judged her here, and no one told her they were horrible. They were how she purged her demons and dealt with her emotions. To have someone else flip through them like a catalogue made her uncomfortable, even if that someone was David. Stunned by the exposure of her soul, she couldn’t talk.

She only watched as David continued to peruse the canvasses. “I can’t believe you’ve hidden all this away in here.” He shook his head in apparent disbelief.

He pulled out a portrait she’d painted of James before he’d died, holding it up. The image tore at Kristin, for it had come out of the grief of learning about his illness at the time.

“This one should be in your gallery. They all should, actually. I had no idea your artistic talent went this far.”

Kristin stepped shakily forward, took the painting from him, and set it carefully on the floor with the others. “My soul isn’t for sale, and I’d prefer if you didn’t touch, so please, let’s just go to the kitchen.”

David didn’t budge. Instead, he scanned the room, utter bewilderment flashed across his features. “Does anyone even know about how much talent you have?”

Kristin shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I don’t share my work with anyone.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

Though James had known about and encouraged her talent, even he hadn’t seen very much of her work. She could always count on her art but not people. Her art showed her soul. It was her secret.

David grabbed her hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. “But why? There is so much beauty inside them.”

Kristin took a quavering breath. Beauty, yes, but there was also pain, joy, and memories, some of which were better kept hidden away in this room. Her art became her secret world, the one thing that no one could take away from her, something that was hers and hers alone. A place she could retreat to while the world moved on around her.

James had tried often to convince her to show her work, but the thought of it always left her terrified. Terrified of how exposed she would be, and terrified she would have to part with any of her paintings. How could she sell her past?

“Could we please talk about this in the kitchen?” Shivers rippled through her body as the icy panic refused to release its hold. She knew her hands quaked inside his grip.

“You’re shaking.” He kissed her knuckles gently.

Kristin’s chest grew heavy and the air in the room became thick, suffocating her. The shaking in her hands worsened as she opened her mouth to speak, but no words formed.

David grasped her hands tighter, but still gentle. “I want to understand, Kristin. I love you so much, and you deserve success with your talent. Why is this gift of yours kept so well hidden? Why don’t you share this with the world?” His magnetic eyes held her, requesting an explanation.

Kristin shook her head vehemently. “I just can’t, all right? I just can’t.”

She hadn’t been ready for all of this, no matter how much she loved him. Kristin had never given herself one hundred percent to anyone, always keeping this one small part for herself, the years of mistrust and insecurity as a child never undone completely.

Without answering, she stood in silence, her blood rushing in her ears.

“What’s this one, with the tarp over it?” David was the one who finally found words. He motioned to the covered painting in the center of the room.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, frozen with dread. No one was supposed to see that one. Not yet, maybe not ever. Even she had trouble looking at it now. The painting was a view of the unidentifiable reaches of her soul, reflected back for all to see.

Finally, she found the courage to move and placed her trembling body in front of the piece to block it. “Please…it’s not finished, leave it alone.” Her voice sounded small, even in the tiny room.

David forced his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “So you’ll still have your secrets from me, then?” Raw pain was evident in his dark eyes.

She shut her eyes tightly as she concentrated on her breathing, willing the action to help control the panic that still clawed at her. She had given David so much already. Could she surrender this last part of herself, too?

As his brown eyes, gentle and understanding, enveloped her, the trembling inside her panic-stricken body died down. Kristin grasped his wrists as his thumb caressed her cheek. “And I…I do love you, David.” She finally let her walls down to let him know. Yes, she did love him, but could she give him her soul?

He smiled and kissed her again. “Then don’t shut me out. Let me in.”

Kristin held her breath and pulled at the tarp. She stepped out of David’s embrace as the gray fabric fell to the floor in one large heap, exposing her soul’s desirehim. All right, this would be a true test of his love for her.

David’s mouth fell open in what she could only assume to be astonishment of his own image reflecting back at him in swirls of blue paint. Frozen in space and time, he didn’t move as his eyes slowly roved back and forth capturing all the details of the portrait. She attempted to hide in the shadows of the room while she tried to judge the impact of what he was seeing, but her own internal chaos obscured her ability to gauge anything.

No one should see her work, especially not David. The pain of rejection from her childhood reared its ugly head.
Breathe, take a baby step
. His declaration of love strengthened her to take the risk.

Her insides still churned when she tried to look at the painting, for she remembered all too well the heartache and pain that had infused each brush stroke.

As David stood very still and stared at the piece, the protective barriers she had spent so many years constructing inside her crumbled, making her vulnerable.

“It looks finished to me.” David’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s also an absolutely stunning piece of work.” He turned to Kristin. Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Are you all right?” David took a step toward her, the concern in his voice obvious.

She took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to the floor. “I really wasn’t prepared for you to see any of this. I’m a little…”

David’s hands lighted delicately on her shoulders and he pulled her to him. “There’s no reason for you to be afraid, lass. Yours is a gift worth sharing, and I want to be the one you share everything with.”

Her body melted into his embrace. His beating heart reassured her that the words he spoke rang with truth.

If she was serious about this moving on thing, then shouldn’t she move on from all of the distrust and abandonment of her past, not just the loss of her husband? Kristin blinked away the unshed tears as her body relaxed further against him.

David held her for a moment, his strong arms circling her warmly. The panic attack earlier seemed like a distant memory, best forgotten. She loved the warmth of his body against her cheek.

“I have an idea.” David lowered his arms and stepped away from her.

“What?”

He focused his attention on something in the room. David wandered over to a table and retrieved a blank canvas, along with various tubes of paint and brushes. He dumped the lot on the small table by an empty easel and leaned the blank canvas on the narrow shelf. “I want to watch you work.”

“What?” Kristin’s head swiveled back and forth between him and the empty canvas. “What are you talking about?”

David folded his arms over his chest. “I want to witness how you transform this empty space into a work of art. Once I see how you work, then maybe you won’t be so reluctant to share it with me.”

A tiny stab of fear caught her breath in her throat.
Was he serious?
Kristin crinkled her nose. “I don’t know…”

David found a stool and centered it in front of the easel. He patted the seat. “Sit down, and show me what you do.”

How could she do this in front of him? But, his dimple beckoned her and she walked over and took a seat in front of the easel.

David handed her a brush and her palette. “Now, work your magic.”

Kristin stared at the canvas, her heart flip flopping around in her chest.
Was he crazy? What was he up to?

With a glance over her shoulder, she saw David scoot another stool behind her, a little to her right, probably so he could see what she was doing. “I’ll be right here, but pretend that I’m not.”

“Easier said than done,” she muttered under her breath. Especially, with his lean, muscular, half naked body sitting behind her.

Focusing on the blank space, she slid her fingers over the white canvas. Never had she let anyone participate in her creative life, even if that participation consisted of merely watching her work. Kristin rolled her shoulders and attempted to relax as she tried to accommodate David’s wish. In a way, she wanted it to be her wish too. The challenge was finding a way through the hole in her walls.

“This is weird. I don’t know what to paint.” She shot a glance over her shoulder at him. How was she supposed to do this while he watched her?