Chapter 9
“He’s quite the dish, isn’t he?”
Britt shifted on the mustard-yellow plastic shell chair in the back room of K&Bs, struggling to act nonchalant and unaffected
by Maude’s assessment of Hunter. She gulped down the rest of her third bottle of water. She had to stop drinking or she would
be running back and forth to the bathroom for the next two hours. Managing a shrug, she said, “If you say so.”
Maude grinned and sipped a cup of tea. Today’s flavor: Japanese orchid sencha. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who says so.”
She fidgeted in her seat again. This style of chair was ubiquitous in the sixties and seventies, and they weren’t comfortable
at all. At least in the teaching area, Maude and X had regular folding chairs, complete with padded seats. Why they insisted
on still using these things was a mystery.
When Britt had gone back into the store on Saturday, she reassured Maude and X that she was okay and explained about Hunter.
They’d both been relieved, and Maude had seemed quite excited that he was returning to the store to see Britt.
When she arrived today, the two of them headed to the back room that doubled as a break room and an office. Britt had been a bundle of nerves all day, although she managed to hide her state from Mom, who spent the morning weeding around the back patio. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and went to K&Bs more than an hour early. Although that gave her some time to visit with Maude, she still couldn’t relax.
For the fifth time since she arrived, she glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to two.
“Worried he won’t show up?” Maude asked.
“I’m not sure I want him to.” There. She said the one thing that had been bothering her since Hunter had introduced himself.
Maude took another sip and set the teacup down on a matching saucer on the coffee table in front of her. “That’s understandable.
You can never be too careful nowadays. But my gut says you don’t have anything to worry about.” She patted her rounded stomach
that was covered with a turquoise, white, and red paisley caftan. Maude rarely wore pants, and when she did, they were bell
bottoms. Britt loved her style.
But she wasn’t sure she could even trust Maude’s sixth sense. After Hunter had told her who he was and said he wanted to convince
her that he wasn’t a creep, she still couldn’t believe that a) he lived in her vicinity, b) he was so ridiculously good-looking,
and c) he seemed nice. Really nice.
Ugh, her mouth was parched and when she looked at her hands, she realized she was tugging at her shirt hem again. She’d made
three different outfit changes before deciding to choose comfort over fashion and selected a loose-fitting navy blue T-shirt,
her favorite pair of high-rise jeans, and white tennis shoes.
When Britt glanced at her watch again, Maude stood. “I can feel the nervous energy coming off you.” She gestured for her to
stand up.
“I’m sorry.” She rose, feeling guilty that she was making her friend uncomfortable. “I can’t help it.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Maude put her arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s a struggle for you. In this case, you have a good reason to be nervous. I’d be on pins and needles too if I were waiting for Mr. Dreamy to walk through the door and wow me with his seashell.”
Britt laughed, releasing some of her tension. “What would X say?”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Not too much anyway. Have you been doing those deep-breathing exercises you learned in therapy?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’ve been too anxious.” Which sounded dumb now that she said it out loud. The diaphragmatic breathing
did calm her. So why wasn’t she doing something that worked?
“Let’s practice.” Maude lifted her ample chest, closed her eyes, and took a huge breath through her nose. Then she exhaled.
“Breathe in... breathe out...”
Britt followed suit. Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out...
After they did that for ten more breaths, Britt opened her eyes. That was better. But she couldn’t exactly do that in front
of Hunter, not without him thinking she’d lost her marbles. Then again, she still wondered if he was the weird one. “Thanks,
Maude.”
“It’s two o’clock.” She spun Britt around and gave her a gentle nudge toward the door. “Your budding artist awaits. Oh, I
asked X to put some lavender in the diffuser. It’s such a soothing scent.”
Britt nodded and entered the showroom floor. Mondays were usually slow, and today was no exception. Carrie, their part-time
employee, only worked on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and every other Saturday. The shop was closed on Sunday. Right now, the
store was empty—the way it had been on Saturday afternoon.
Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... She started to yank on her shirt again, then realized what she was doing and put her hands in her pockets. Breathe out...
When she reached the front of the store, she stopped breathing altogether. True to his word, Hunter was there, standing at
the counter and talking to X, who then noticed Britt. He nodded to Hunter, who turned around... and smiled.
The thumping started again, and now she was seeing spots before her eyes. Oh, right. Breathe! A huge amount of air whooshed from her lungs and out of her mouth.
He tilted his head, a small frown tugging on his lips. “Uh, hey.”
“You’re here,” she blurted.
His smile returned. “So are you. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Showing up.”
“Helloo, Hunter!” Maude appeared, her caftan flowing behind her as she hugged his waist like they’d known each other forever.
“Britt told us you did the ten-minute challenge.”
“I tried.” He turned and grabbed a manila file folder off the counter. But when he started to open it, she pinched it shut.
“Britt should be the first one to see your masterpiece.” Maude beamed, then glanced at X. “Right, dear?”
X rolled his eyes, then smiled at Britt. “Whatever you say, my love.”
“Why don’t you show him our education room, Britt,” Maude said, prodding Hunter toward her. “You two can talk about his drawing
alone—I mean, without distractions.”
There weren’t any distractions in the empty store. And Britt didn’t think she was ready to be alone with him. Maude and X
were supposed to be witnesses after all.
“I can show her here.” Hunter looked at Britt. “There’s not much to talk about anyway.” He shoved his bangs off his forehead, appearing uncertain again. “It doesn’t resemble a seashell at all.”
“I’m sure it’s better than you think.” Britt took a step toward him, not wanting him to disparage his work and get discouraged.
“Britt can give you some extra tips.” Maude put her arm around them both, and they all moved in tandem toward the education
room. “I’ve been trying for years to convince her to teach classes here,” she said as they squeezed down the scrapbook and
photo storage aisle.
“I prefer being online,” she mumbled. If she’d known Maude was going to be so pushy, she wouldn’t have agreed to meet Hunter
here.
Maude finally dropped her arms and walked into the room. Britt and Hunter had no choice but to follow. Britt did like this
room, and it was ideal for teaching all kinds of classes. Maude and X taught their fair share of them. X was an expert on
sculpture, pottery, and kids’ crafts, while Maude was skilled in all paint mediums, jewelry, and yarn crafts.
“Make yourselves at home.” Maude grinned, then disappeared.
Breathe in... breathe out...
“This is a cool room.” Hunter glanced around at the art displayed on the walls, shelves, and small display cases. “Any of
your pieces in here?”
She faced him, taking in his gray V-necked T-shirt, jeans with small holes in the knees, and the same boots he’d had on the
other day. Again, they were all a perfect fit. “Uh...” Oh no. What had he asked her?
Hunter moved to stand in front of her, his expression serious. “We don’t have to do this,” he said. “I don’t want you to be
uncomfortable.”
He seemed sincere, and his kindness helped her find her words. “I’m always uncomfortable in new situations,” she admitted. Then she stilled. She’d never confessed how she felt to a stranger before. And that’s what they were, even though they’d exchanged messages. She didn’t know anything about him outside his questions about art and the magic words he’d written in his first message— uncomfortably comfortable .
“Been there myself,” he said. “More than once. Like now, showing a famous artist my ten-minute attempt at a scallop.”
“I’m not famous.”
“Famous enough.” He blew out a breath and presented her with the folder.
***
Hunter was surprised at how tense he was as he handed her his artwork. Tense and a little embarrassed. He’d practiced all
Saturday night and also when he got off work on Sunday, rewatching her ten-minute challenge video so many times he’d lost
count. With each viewing, he learned something new, and finally, three hours ago, after filling a trash bin with failed attempts,
he came up with something that looked like it might live in the sea—emphasis on might .
But this wasn’t the only time he’d been nervous since meeting her on Saturday. His anxiety had heightened throughout the weekend,
and he’d had to double focus at work on Sunday so he didn’t make a mistake. What if she didn’t show up? What if she laughed
at his shell? What if she showed up, didn’t laugh at his shell, but still thought he was a creep?
All that had been simmering inside him when he drove into K&Bs parking lot. When he saw her car, he was relieved, but still nervous. He was ten minutes early and glad that X had engaged him in small talk right away. That helped calm him a little, along with whatever smell was in the air the second he walked into the store.
Then Britt appeared. Her hair was in a fluffy ponytail, and she looked comfy in her casual T-shirt and jeans. But her expression
was what had him back on edge. She was tense—extremely so—and her wide-eyed stare had unnerved him a little. When Maude suggested
they go to the education room, she looked like a deer standing in front of headlights.
She might have shown up, but he was sure she didn’t want to be here.
Even now as she looked up at him, then back at the folder, she seemed at a loss. He’d tried to set her at ease by sympathizing
with her. He really did understand. Since he was a kid, he’d learned how to hide his insecurity with a veneer of bravado.
Finally, she took the folder and opened it. He held his breath as she studied his drawing, her expression blank. In fact,
she studied it so long he started shifting on his feet. “That bad, huh?”
She lifted her head, her gaze connecting with his. Then she smiled. “No... it’s good. Really good.” She motioned for him
to sit with her at one of the tables. When they were seated, she laid the drawing on top of the folder. “This only took you
ten minutes?”
“More like ten hours.”
Britt smirked. “It was supposed to be ten minutes.”
Hunter lifted his hands. “I’m new to this. I wanted it to be... presentable. Trust me, none of them were except this one.”
“The shell is a little wonky.” She pointed to the imbalance between the two sides, something he hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah. I could never get them to look the same.”
“Well, they don’t have to. Nothing in nature is absolutely perfect. But I can give you some pointers.” She got up from the chair, went to a closet, and walked inside. When she came back out, she had a short stack of paper and some colored pencils. She sat back down and handed him a few sheets of paper. “I didn’t put this in the video, but when I was learning how to make things look even, I used to fold my paper in quadrants.”
He watched as she creased the paper into four sections, then picked up a black pencil and started sketching. “This helps to
center the drawing, and then you can see how each side fits in the different areas.”
“Is that something you learned in art school?”
She shook her head, still focused on drawing. “No. It’s just something I tried out that helps me.” She picked up a dark-blue
pencil and handed it to him. “It might not work for you, but you can try it if you want.”
Hunter took the pencil from her and picked up a clean piece of paper. It didn’t escape his notice that her discomfort seemed
to vanish as she was talking about art. He folded the paper and started outlining the shell. He didn’t need a visual aid anymore.
The shape was cemented in his brain.
They were both quiet while they worked, and he forgot about his own nerves as he delved into the task. He switched out the
dark blue for a light blue and started shading the ridges the way she’d demonstrated in her video. When he finished, he looked
up, wondering if she was done with the black. But she wasn’t drawing. She was watching him. Or rather, she was looking at
his picture.
“Now they’re more even.” Britt smiled. “You catch on fast.”
“I’ve got a good teacher.” He turned his body a little so he could face her. “I can see why Maude wants you to teach classes.”
Her gaze moved to her own picture, a much fancier shell surrounded by a sketched-in beachscape. “I couldn’t do that. I’d be
too nervous.”
“You’re not nervous with me.”
Britt paused, giving him a small nod.
He leaned back in the chair, hoping he’d redeemed himself and she no longer thought he had ill intentions toward her. “This
is fun after you get the hang of it.”
“Satisfying too.” She took an aquamarine pencil and started coloring the sea behind the scallop.
When he reached over and picked up the black pencil, he accidentally brushed against her. “Sorry,” he said, pulling back a
little.
“It’s okay.” She handed him the pencil, then went back to drawing.
By the time he finished his scallop, an hour had passed, and he had something that looked much better than what he’d done
before. She’d given him a few more tips on shading and colors, and he had to admit he had done a decent job. He held up the
picture at eye level and examined it. “Not too bad.”
“Make sure you sign it.”
“It’s not that good. I’ll probably just toss it in the bin.” He started to ball it up when she laid her hand on top of his.
“You shouldn’t do that.” She took the crinkled paper and smoothed it out. “This is your first piece. It’s special.”
“Technically it’s my second.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “That’s right. Well, they’re both special. You should keep them in a file. As you improve your skills,
go back and draw a new shell. That’s a great way to see your progress.”
He never would have considered saving any of his pictures. He glanced at her. She was assuming he would continue to draw.
Of course she would think that. That was the reason he was here, right? To get her opinion and improve?
Yes. He really enjoyed the project, including all the mistakes he’d made. He was honest with her about finding it relaxing. And now that she was in her element, she was great to be around. Just sitting next to her as they both drew and colored their seashells was nice. Even better—she was turning out to be exactly what she was on camera. Shy, humble, talented... and fascinating.
She started gathering up the pencils and put them back in the box, a cue that they were finished. Disappointed, he straightened
the sheaf of extra paper and handed it to her. “Thanks for the lesson,” he said.
Turning to face him, she smiled. “You’re welcome.”
He wasn’t ready for their time together to end, but she seemed to be. He couldn’t leave without being sure of one thing, though.
“Do you still think I’m an axe murderer?”
“You heard me say that in the bathroom, didn’t you?” She stood and picked up the box.
“Yep.” He scooped up the paper. “Although I have no idea why you’d think that. We hadn’t even officially met yet.”
“That’s so embarrassing.” She tucked her chin against her chest and looked down. “I was just trying to...”
He got out of his seat. “Trying to what?”
“Calm myself down.” She lifted her gaze.
“Did I say something to upset you?” He couldn’t remember, she’d left so quickly after Maude had mentioned Britt’s Wall of
Art. “If I did, I’m sorry.”
“No, you were fine.” She took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault you’re so good-looking.” She scurried past him and rushed
to the art closet.
He stilled. Well, he hadn’t expected her to say that . He smiled and grabbed the paper off the table. When he poked his head into the closet, she was straightening up an already
neat shelf of boxes of colored pencils. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Britt looked over her shoulder, a little smirk on her cute face. “Don’t act like no one’s ever said that to you before.”
They had, all his life. And he’d skated on those looks too. Coupled with a charming smile, he was able to manipulate situations
and people to his advantage.
And where did that get him in the long run? A criminal record, a less-than-stellar education, and zero idea what he wanted
to do with his life.
She faced him, her smirk replaced with concern.
Only then did he realize he was frowning. He shrugged it off. “That’s me. Mr. Hot Stuff.” He turned on a grin that made girls,
and more than a few teachers, swoon.
But she wasn’t swooning. Far from it.
***
Britt didn’t say a word as she saw Hunter’s smile slip from his face. When he first flashed that Hollywood-worthy grin, her
stomach did a backflip. But she instantly noticed it wasn’t real. He didn’t believe he was hot stuff. Not for a minute. She’d
spent a lot of her life avoiding looking people in the eye until she was comfortable with them, and she was no expert on reading
facial expressions or emotions. But the self-doubt she saw in Hunter’s eyes as he tried to play off her impulsive comment
about his looks was easy to see. It was only there for a second, but it was real.
And it confused her.
His grin reappeared, less bright this time. “Since we’re done with our lesson, you want to go grab some coffee? A bite to
eat?”
She grabbed her shirt hem again, but at least she wasn’t compelled to stare at her sneakers. “I... I don’t think that’s
a good idea.”
“Oh.” Disappointment crossed his features. “I guess I thought I’d convinced you I was harmless.”
He had. Once she forgot her anxiety, their impromptu lesson had been fun. And she’d been truthful about his picture being
good. His color choice, symmetry, and shading showed sparks of innate talent. But drawing and coloring seashells was way different
from sitting in a restaurant over a meal.
“Sorry.” He continued, stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t mean to be pushy.”
She pressed her lips together. “You’re not pushy. You’re really... nice.”
A glimmer of hope lit up his eyes, only to fade. “Just not nice enough to go out with.”
Did he mean a date? Her stomach fluttered, only to calm when she reminded herself that a meal didn’t equal a date. It was
ridiculous for her to even think a guy as handsome and nice as Hunter would ever think of her in romantic terms. “It’s not
you, it’s—”
“Me. Got it.” His expression shuttered. “Thanks for your time. Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again.” He turned to leave.
Although she was sure his ego was bruised—he’d probably never been turned down before—she couldn’t let him leave thinking
he was the reason she said no. She went to him and touched his arm. More accurately, his bicep. And what a bicep it was.
“Hunter...” Oh no. Her mouth was drying up again, her words evaporating. Worse, she was still touching him. She should
stop, but she couldn’t make her hand obey.
He turned, forcing her hand to shift off his arm, his face still unreadable.
“I... I’m sorry.” From his frown she could tell that wasn’t the right thing to say. “I...” Her gaze landed on their
shoes, her white sneakers almost toe to toe with his leather boots.
“Britt.”
She looked up at him, her gaze locking with those incredible eyes that she still longed to draw.
“It’s okay, really.” His expression softened a little, and a small, genuine smile appeared.
She shook her head so hard her ponytail slapped her ears. “No, it isn’t.” A lump formed in her throat, and she couldn’t stop
herself from admitting the truth. “I’m a mess, Hunter. A huge mess.”