Page 10 of Belonging: KT & Lolo (Good Hope: The Next Generation #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Kaiden,” Lolo called, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the parking lot.

He turned, one brow lifting, a surprised smile already forming as he retraced his steps toward her. She could tell he hadn’t expected to hear from her seconds after saying goodbye.

Maybe it was the use of his full name. Maybe it was the tone. Either way, she had his attention.

He stopped in front of her, easy and expectant. “What’s up?”

Lolo tapped her watch. “It’s only eleven.”

His mouth quirked. “Look at you, telling time like a champ.”

“I have many skills.” She folded her arms, teasing. “One of them is knowing when someone is pretending to head home.”

He chuckled. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Miss Kendrick?”

“That you weren’t in any rush to leave, and I’m giving you an excuse to delay the inevitable.”

Interest lit his eyes. “You have something in mind?”

“I do.” She leaned casually against her car and gave the roof a light tap. “Why wait until tomorrow to sketch? I have my sketchpad in the trunk, and I even brought a spare. Pencil included. Thoughtful, right?”

“You always did come prepared.” His grin deepened. “So where’s the studio for this late-night creative surge?”

“I thought you might come up with something unconventional,” she said, lifting a brow.

A beat. Then his grin turned mischievous. “What about the fairgrounds?”

She blinked. “The fairgrounds? There’s no fair happening right now.”

“Exactly,” he said. “No crowds. No lights. Just empty barns, aging fences and echoing buildings. It’s got…mood.”

She tilted her head, considering. “So we’re talking spooky ghost-town energy meets art therapy?”

He nodded solemnly. “Precisely.”

“Will there be snacks?”

“I can stop for snacks.”

“Fine. I’m in.”

He laughed, then added, “Full moon tonight.”

“Ooh. Werewolves, then. But no vampires.”

“You sound a little disappointed.”

She shrugged. “I was a loyal Team Edward girl back in the day.”

He unlocked the Jeep. “The brooding-artist type tends to be popular with women.”

“You should know. You’re a brooding artist,” Lolo pointed out.

KT flashed a grin. “True. But with better hair and fewer trust issues.”

Lolo popped her trunk, grabbed the supplies and joined him in the Jeep. As she buckled in, she shot him a sideways glance. “If I’m eaten by a werewolf, tell my family I died doing what I love.”

He started the engine and smirked. “Sketching abandoned ticket booths by moonlight?”

“No. Flirting with complicated men under dramatic lighting. ”

He laughed, low and warm. “Remind me to stay in well-lit areas, just to be safe.”

The Jeep’s tires crunched over gravel as he pulled away from the bar and headed toward the edge of town. The radio was off and the windows cracked open. The night air smelled like pine and rain-soaked fields.

“You’re seriously not even a little creeped out by a deserted fairground at night?” she asked.

“I find it inspiring.”

“Inspiring,” she echoed. “That’s not ominous at all.”

He glanced over. “Would it help if I promised not to disappear and leave you alone with the ghost of a cotton candy vendor?”

“A little. Although, if I start hearing carousel music, I’m out.”

“I’ll protect you,” KT said, mock solemn. “With my sketchbook and my brooding aura.”

Lolo grinned out the window, but her chest tightened, just a little. Because beneath the jokes, she liked how this felt—easy, safe, charged with something unspoken.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said quietly.

“‘Good’ unexpected, or ‘make sure the car doors are unlocked’ unexpected?”

“Good,” she said after a pause. “But also…weird.”

He chuckled. “Weird I can live with.”

“It’s kind of spooky.” Without realizing it, Lolo moved a fraction closer to KT, their shoulders nearly brushing. “In a cool way.”

He pointed toward a faded food stand where the moonlight spilled across its peeling red paint. “Look how the light stretches across those weathered boards. That contrast? I’d start with a wash of cobalt and gray. The angles practically ache for brushstrokes.”

Lolo let out a slow breath and forced herself to tune out the owl hooting in the distance and the unnerving skittering beneath the floorboards.

She narrowed her focus, not on fear, but on the way the moonlight filtered through the slats, cutting long shadows across broken planks and twisted metal signs.

“It’s moody,” she said, flipping open her sketchpad and running a practiced thumb over the edge of her charcoal. “Almost Gothic.”

She knelt beside one of the support beams and began blocking in the skeleton of the building, capturing the slight tilt of the roofline and the slumping door.

“The moonlight gives it this dreamy, surreal edge,” she murmured. “Not quite real, like something caught between now and then.”

KT watched her work, then returned his attention to his own pad. “That’s what I love about painting scenes like this. There’s texture in the silence. The shadows say as much as the structures.”

Lolo smiled faintly, adding subtle smudges for shading. “You ever think about how shadow can tell its own story? I mean, look at that shed back there. Its actual shape is simple, but the shadow makes it feel alive, almost menacing.”

“It’s duality,” KT said, studying the building with narrowed eyes. “That tension between what was and what is. This place once held laughter, lights, noise. Now, it holds ghosts.”

For a moment, they worked in companionable silence, their pages filling with lines and layers of meaning. Then Lolo sat back on her heels, brushing a smudge of charcoal from her wrist.

“This is incredible,” she said, voice quiet. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.” He hesitated. “Back then, Braxton and I would ride our bikes and hide in the barns. Anything to get away from Clint.”

She paused in midmotion, remembering bits and pieces of what she’d heard about his mother’s ex. “That bad?”

“The worst.” His voice was calm, but the words held weight. “ But once Clint went to prison, things changed. Krew stepped in. He wasn’t blood, but he never acted like that mattered.”

“You talk about him like he’s your real dad.”

KT’s expression darkened. “He is.”

Lolo winced. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean?—”

“No, I know.” He exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing. “It’s just, when someone shows up for you, every day, no matter what? That’s what makes them family.”

She gently touched his forearm, a quiet apology in her eyes.

After a moment, he continued. “I did meet my birth father once. He came to a gallery opening in New York. Walked up like we were old friends and said, ‘You know who I am?’”

Lolo blinked. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘Yeah, you’re the guy who walked out on my mom when she was pregnant with me.’ Then I turned my back on him, just like he had on me, and strode off.” He gave a short laugh. “Haven’t seen him since.”

The silence between them was soft now, thoughtful.

Lolo nodded. “I get it. Some people don’t want you for who you are, only for what you represent.”

His gaze sharpened. “Is that what happened with your ex? Oh, sorry! Sorry. You already said your ex is not a conversation for tonight.”

“It’s okay, really.” She didn’t continue right away, just turned her sketchpad so he could see the bold contrast of lines she’d created—the food stand’s twisted sign framed in moonlight and mystery.

He took the pad so he could look closer.

She added, “Let’s just say I’ve learned how to tell real from fake. I?—”

“Stop right there. Hands where I can see them.”

Lolo froze, her heart stuttering as she jerked her hands up.

Then KT laughed.

“What the—” She spun to glare at him, only to find Sheriff Cade Rallis stepping from the shadows, flashlight in hand.

“You remember Lorraine Kendrick, Kyle’s sister,” KT said, eyes dancing with mischief. “You can lower your hands now, Lolo.”

“Sheriff Rallis.” Lolo forced a smile, even as her pulse still pounded. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” Cade nodded, gaze softening. “Marigold didn’t mention you were in town.”

“I’m just here for a bit of rest—and sketching.” She lifted her pad with a half smile. “This place is full of atmosphere.”

Cade’s mouth twitched. “It’s also private property.”

KT gave a contrite shrug. “Couldn’t resist showing her the fairgrounds by moonlight. It’s kind of…artistic trespassing.”

Cade sighed, clearly trying not to smile. “You two be careful. Next time, ask first.”

“We will,” Lolo promised.

Cade tipped his head and turned back toward his cruiser.

As the quiet returned, Lolo glanced at KT, who still held her sketch, eyes skimming the shadows she’d carved in black.

“You’ve still got it,” he said, handing it back.

She flushed, the warmth of his words lingering like the memory of his fingers brushing hers.

As they walked back to the Jeep, she felt it again, that flicker of something beneath the surface, waiting.

Not just inspiration.

Possibility.

Back at Paintbrush, he parked in front of her cabin, where moonlight spilled silver across the porch. Lolo slipped off her shoes by the door and padded barefoot into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Want one?” she asked over her shoulder.

KT shook his head and took a seat at the counter, stretching his legs. “It was a good night.”

“It was.” She twisted off the cap and took a drink. “Better than I expected.”

He watched her for a beat, his expression easy. “You okay?”

Lolo hesitated, then she surprised herself by nodding toward the living room. “Come sit.”

KT followed her, settling onto the couch while she curled up at the opposite end, legs tucked under her.

“Truth?” she said softly.

“Always.”

She stared into the shadows for a moment. “I told my dad I needed a break and was coming here to visit Kyle. He agreed, said I should take this time to relax and recharge.” Her lips quirked. “Inside, I was already planning all the work I’d catch up on while here.”

KT raised a brow.