Page 22 of Belonging: KT & Lolo (Good Hope: The Next Generation #2)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Walking to the Outfitters, KT pictured the two of them on a sleek Ducati or a classic Harley, hair whipping in the wind, matching leather jackets.

Instead…

“It’s so cute,” Lolo said, touching the handlebars of the bubblegum-pink moped.

KT stared. “This is all you have?”

Callum grinned behind the counter. “That’s right. No motorcycle endorsement needed. Just a regular driver’s license and a sense of humor.”

KT glanced at the two machines lined up out front. “Do they have to be pink?”

“All we have left,” Callum said, not even trying to hide the smile now.

“I call the ladybug helmet,” Lolo said.

KT sighed. “I’ll take the plain black.”

They got their helmets, keys and a wave of encouragement from Callum. “Where are you headed?”

“Up the coast,” Lolo said. “Sketchbooks in hand. ”

“Sounds like the perfect kind of road trip.” Callum’s gaze lingered on them, envy flickering across his face. “Enjoy.”

“I’d like to stop at Anderson Dock,” KT said once they were motoring down the scenic stretch of shoreline.

“That’s the barn with all the painted names, right?”

He nodded. “People have been leaving their marks there for over a century. What started with sailors painting the names of their boats has turned into a full-blown public art installation.”

“I’ve never been,” Lolo admitted. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

“There’s also a gallery inside.” He tried to sound casual. “I donated a piece there a few months ago. I’d like to see it on display.”

Her smile made his pulse skip. “Then let’s go see it.”

Fifteen minutes later, they parked the mopeds near the dock. The sun danced on the water, and tourists meandered around the edges of the painted warehouse, admiring layers of names and memories stacked like tide lines.

“We can’t come here and not leave our mark,” KT said, pulling a few colored markers from his jacket pocket.

“No pink?” Lolo teased.

He laughed and handed her blue and green.

Minutes later, they stepped back.

She’d written her name in a looping, elegant script, blue ink trailing like windblown water.

KT studied it. “I’m impressed.”

“It’s just my signature.”

“It looks like it belongs here. Like it’s part of the bay.”

She turned toward his spot, where his initials were etched into a layered geometric design, green fields shifting like water, cut through with golden lines of light.

“You went abstract. ”

“I always go abstract.”

They walked into the gallery, their steps soft on the old wood floor. Suddenly, there it was, KT’s painting, displayed under angled lighting.

Lolo stopped in front of it, quiet.

Indigo bled into slate and turquoise. Copper and gold streaked the middle like the first rays of morning breaking across a bay. Shoreline grasses whispered in silhouette, blurred by suggestion. At the bottom, a single arc of crimson curved like breath held too long.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said softly.

KT turned to her. “Do what?”

“Thread vulnerability into even the boldest compositions.” She looked at him, eyes shining. “I’d say you outdid yourself, but I think that every time I see one of your paintings.”

He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. Her words meant more than she could know.

Back outside, sunlight shimmered off the water like broken glass.

Lolo leaned into his side. “I can see why you don’t want to go back to corporate gigs.”

KT exhaled. “It’s not that I hated it, but it drained me. It chipped away at this part of myself I didn’t even realize I needed to protect.”

She nodded, understanding softening her features.

He kissed her hair. “Want to take our pink mopeds somewhere and make some art?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

They rode north until the traffic thinned and the shoreline opened into low bluffs above the bay. KT spotted a narrow pull-off shaded by wind-stunted pines and coasted to a stop .

“This’ll do,” he said as Lolo pulled up beside him.

Before them, the water stretched wide and sun-dappled, the dock a memory behind them now. A weathered fence lined the overlook, half buried in goldenrod and Queen Anne’s lace. Below, sailboats bobbed on the water, their white hulls gleaming like pearls.

Lolo unstrapped her helmet, her hair catching in the breeze. “It’s beautiful.”

KT unpacked their sketchbooks and pencils from the seat compartment. “Not Anderson Dock,” he said, handing her hers, “but I like the quiet.”

They sat on a flat patch of rock just off the overlook. At first, they worked in silence—Lolo sketching the curve of the shoreline, KT layering smudges of charcoal to capture the shadows in the trees above.

KT glanced over. “You’re drawing the boats.”

“They feel like the only things not in a hurry,” she murmured, pencil dancing in loops. “I think I envy them.”

He smiled and dipped his pencil again. “I was sketching you.”

She turned, startled. “Seriously?”

“Sort of. Your hair. The way it catches the light. I don’t know.” He looked down at his page. “Maybe it’s a boat now.”

Lolo laughed softly, then nudged his leg with hers. “Let me see.”

“Not until it’s done,” he said, but he handed it over anyway.

She studied the charcoal smudges—a loosely defined silhouette, shadowed and windswept, almost abstract. “It’s not a boat.”

“No?”

She looked up. “It’s me.”

He didn’t deny it.

Her fingers traced the edge of the page. “You make me feel…seen.”

KT swallowed. The words lodged somewhere in his chest .

A warm breeze swept across the bluff. Lolo set the sketchbook aside and leaned her head against his shoulder.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, sun warming their skin, hearts beating in a rhythm that felt, for once, not like chance, but choice.

Lolo wasn’t sure when the warmth and quiet contentment blooming in her chest shifted into something deeper. Stronger. Needier. Maybe it was when he tugged her closer. Or when she set her sketchbook aside and slid her arms around his neck.

Maybe it was simply the way he looked at her, like she was something rare and luminous.

As she studied his face, one that had grown so achingly dear over the past few weeks, a wave of emotion surged through her. It felt suspiciously like love—too big to name, too impossible to ignore.

Then he kissed her, softly at first, a question she was only too happy to answer.

The world narrowed. The breeze stilled. The birdsong faded until the only sound that existed was the brush of mouths, the soft hitch of breath.

One kiss turned into another, and another—sweet and slow, then deeper, hungrier. The kind of kisses that made her forget what day it was. That melted her bones and unraveled every coherent thought.

She wanted to touch him, really touch him. To feel the muscles shift under his shirt, to map the warm expanse of his skin with her hands.

When his fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, her breath caught. The heat of his touch sent a ripple of anticipation through her body, sharp and electric.

And then—laughter. Distant, but approaching .

They froze. KT’s hand stilled, then withdrew. He exhaled, low and rough, and got to his feet, already scanning the woods behind them.

“They’re coming closer,” she whispered, fingers trembling slightly as she smoothed her hair and reached for their things.

KT nodded, reaching down to help her up just as a group of college-aged hikers broke through the trees, all chatter and camera phones.

“The view of the bay is incredible from up here,” one young woman called back to her friends. She stopped short when she spotted KT and Lolo. “Oh, sorry! We didn’t realize?—”

Her eyes swept over Lolo, then flicked to the sketchbooks. A sly smile curved her lips. “We didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

Lolo lifted the sketchbooks and returned a polite smile. “You didn’t. We were just leaving.”

From behind the woman, one of the guys let out a low whistle. “We saw the pink mopeds parked by the road. Figured it was a couple of girls.”

KT chuckled, easy and unbothered. “Last ones left at Outfitters.”

“Bummer, man,” the other guy muttered, laughing.

“Enjoy the view,” KT said with a nod and reached for Lolo’s hand.

They didn’t speak until they reached the mopeds.

“If they’d come five minutes later…” Lolo shook her head, the flush still lingering on her cheeks. “But I don’t think they suspected anything.”

KT reached over and gently plucked a twig from her hair, his fingers grazing her cheek. “Not a thing.”

During the drive to Paintbrush after they returned the mopeds, desire shimmered in the air like heat off the pavement.

KT held her hand on the console, his thumb drawing lazy circles against her skin that made her pulse trip. Every time his gaze slid to her, something flared in those blue depths—desire, or maybe just the echo of her own longing.

Lolo couldn’t remember ever wanting someone the way she wanted KT in that moment. By the time they turned onto Paintbrush Lane, her mind had already leaped ahead, imagining how it would go when they reached whichever cabin they chose. His lips. Her hands. The way their breath would catch.

She ran her hand slowly up his forearm.

Then she saw the vehicles.

Not one, but two. One parked in front of her cabin. One in front of his.

KT sighed, trying for nonchalance. “That’s my brother’s rental.”

She caught the subtle thread of disappointment under the words.

Lolo’s shoulders slumped. “That’s my brother’s truck.”

KT reached across the console and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make this quick.”

“Promise?” she whispered.

The word made him smile.

But as they pulled into KT’s drive, that fragile hope deflated. His porch held a gathering—Braxton, Kyle and Eliza—deep in conversation.

Lolo got out, trying not to feel too disappointed. When KT rounded the Jeep to meet her, she kept her hands to herself.

“This is a nice surprise,” she said brightly.

“Perfect timing,” Eliza replied. “We were just about to leave.”

If we’d stopped for gas. Or lingered a little longer by the dock, Lolo thought. Just ten more minutes…

“I didn’t think I’d see you today,” KT said to his brother, offering a handshake.

Braxton grinned. “Grandma gave me the evening off for good behavior. I escaped before she changed her mind.”

“Kyle and I were in Sturgeon Bay,” Eliza said, “and we thought we’d swing by to invite you two to dinner.”

She turned to Braxton with a bright smile. “Of course, you’re more than welcome, too.”

“We promise not to put you to work,” Kyle said with a grin.

“Don’t speak so quickly,” Eliza countered, flashing a mischievous smile.

Braxton laughed. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Eliza said sincerely. “We’ve got plenty of food—and plenty of chairs.”

“We’ve got enough food to feed a small army,” Kyle added.

“Please come,” Eliza added, clearly directing her charm at Braxton.

“Sure,” Braxton said, glancing at KT and Lolo. “That’d be nice.”

“Perfect.” Eliza turned to Lolo. “If it works for you, I’d love for you to ride back with us now.”

“Now?” Lolo’s voice rose a little before she tempered it. “I mean…of course. If it’s not a rush, I’d love to join you.”

“If you need time?—”

“I’d love ten minutes for a quick shower.” Lolo smiled. “I’m feeling a little hot and dusty.”

“Same here,” KT said, avoiding her gaze.

Ten minutes later, and they could’ve been in the shower together.

Lolo shoved the thought aside. There would be time for shower games later.

Tonight was about family.