Page 27 of Belonging: KT & Lolo (Good Hope: The Next Generation #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Back in the car, the windows down and the wind threading through her hair, Lolo felt her body ease into the rhythm of the road.

KT’s hand was on the wheel, his other arm stretched across the console so their fingers brushed now and again, each touch a quiet reminder of everything simmering between them.

“So,” he said, glancing at her with a grin, “you cleaned the fountain, entertained guests, drank wine and ate chocolate. Sounds like you barely survived without me.”

“I managed,” she said airily, then laughed. “But I did more than indulge my sweet tooth. I made a lot of headway on the Stillwell project.”

“Yeah?” His tone shifted, curious now. “How’s it coming along?”

“Better than I expected, honestly.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I went back to the original concepts and saw where I could push them further. Sharpened the flow, added light in key places, gave it more movement and energy.”

“Sounds like someone found her groove.” He shot her a proud glance. “Did stepping away help?”

“I think so. Being here, slowing down… It’s given me space to see what I missed before.” She paused. “Kind of like how you said being here helps you paint differently.”

He nodded. “This place clears the noise. Helps you hear what actually matters.”

She looked over at him. “Do you miss the noise sometimes?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes. But I don’t think I realized how much it dulled everything else until I got away from it.”

She nodded, thoughtful. “I think I’m starting to understand that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the woods beginning to thicken around them as the road narrowed.

“Stillwell’s lucky to have you,” KT said quietly. “Even without me on the project.”

Lolo turned her head, her heart fluttering. “Thanks for saying that.”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Their eyes met for a beat, something unspoken blooming between them just as the trees gave way to a clearing, and a massive log home appeared, framed by woods and afternoon light.

Lolo straightened in her seat.

Her eyes widened. Though they couldn’t be more than two miles from Good Hope, the dense trees flanking the road made it feel as if they’d stepped into another world.

“What is this place?” Lolo asked.

“My future home.” KT pulled the vehicle to a stop in front of the garage. “Maybe.”

Confused, she shifted in her seat to face him. “I don’t understand.”

“My dad bought this place just before my sister’s wedding ten years ago. He wanted the family to have a house to use when visiting. Then he changed his mind and offered to sell it to Jason and Roe Boone. ”

“I don’t know them.”

“They’re not from Good Hope, but they lived here for a few years.” KT opened the car door, and Lolo followed suit.

He didn’t lead her inside immediately. Instead, he stood gazing up at the soaring roofline, his expression unreadable.

“Boone got a coaching job with my dad’s NFL team, and Roe started a children’s theater where they moved. They’ve held on to this house for sentimental reasons.” KT smiled slightly. “At least that’s how my mom put it.”

“They’re ready to sell now?”

He nodded. “Boone asked if my dad wanted it back. He doesn’t, but he thought I might.”

“Do you?”

“Let’s take a look.” KT walked to the door and pulled a key from his pocket.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Boone left it with Cade in case of emergency. I asked, and he gave me the go-ahead.”

He opened the door but stepped back, motioning for her to enter first.

The foyer opened into a space that took her breath. A twenty-foot ceiling soared overhead. Hardwood floors gleamed beneath their feet, and sunlight streamed through towering windows. A massive stone fireplace anchored the great room.

“Wow.”

KT glanced around. “It is beautiful.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “It’s very beautiful.”

“How many bedrooms?”

“Five. Four baths. Jacuzzi in the master.” He shrugged. “That’s about all I know, other than the price is fair, and we can skip the Realtor.”

She didn’t ask the price. Not her business, she reminded herself .

“Are you going to give me the full tour?”

“You bet I am.”

They explored every inch of the house—bedrooms, bathrooms, a finished basement, even the oversized garage.

She gestured to the riding mower and snowblower. “Do those stay?”

“Negotiable, I think.”

“Up here, they’d be essential. I take it you don’t shovel snow in Brooklyn?”

“No, but Braxton and I did plenty of shoveling growing up. Our house didn’t even have a garage.”

They walked back inside, and KT dropped onto the leather couch in the great room. He patted the seat beside him.

“What are you doing?”

“Breathing in the energy.”

She raised a brow.

“When I bought my place in Brooklyn, I knew it was right because it felt right. That’s important to me. Call it strange if you want.”

“I don’t think it’s strange.” She smiled. “I once passed on a condo because just walking inside made my skin crawl. Turned out, someone had been murdered there.”

KT blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. The price was great, too.”

He laughed, and she looked around again. “This place feels different. It’s warm. Like love’s lived here.”

He turned his head, studying her. “That’s the feeling I get, too.”

“One of those upstairs bedrooms would make an amazing studio.”

He nodded. “It would. The light’s perfect.”

“So are you thinking of staying in Good Hope? Full time?”

“I love New York, but the city’s never quite felt like home.” He paused. “The day I got here, I ran into three people I knew as a kid.”

“That’s a good thing?” she teased.

He laughed. “Most days.”

She waited, sensing more.

“My grandparents are here. They’re getting older. I want to be nearby, just in case. I’ve got friends in the city, but I can stay in touch with the important ones.”

“What about your work?”

He met her gaze. “That’s the beauty of it. I can paint anywhere.”

“You sound like you’ve made up your mind.”

“Eighty percent there.” He smiled. “I still want to talk to Boone and Roe directly. But if it feels right…I’ll sign on the dotted line.”

KT led Lolo through the sliding glass doors that opened onto the back deck. The view alone made him want to buy the place.

Towering pines fringed the clearing, their boughs swaying gently in the breeze.

Beyond the tree line, he could just make out the glimmer of water, likely a branch of Mud Lake, though he wasn’t entirely sure.

Birds chattered overhead, and somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker tapped a steady rhythm into bark.

“This is perfect,” Lolo breathed, stepping to the railing. “You could sketch out here every day and never run out of inspiration.”

“That’s the plan.” He set his sketchbook on the small patio table, pulled two chairs close together and glanced at her. “Want to sit and draw awhile?”

She nodded and went to grab her own supplies from the car. KT took the moment alone to sit, flipping to a blank page. For a few beats, he simply let the space wash over him. The filtered light. The scent of pine and sunshine. The stillness.

Then she returned, curls loose around her shoulders, sketchpad hugged to her chest, eyes bright.

He could already picture her here. Every weekend. Every morning. Curled up on this deck with a coffee mug and her pencils, filling page after page.

They sketched in companionable silence. Occasionally, she tilted her pad to show him a curve or line. Occasionally, he did the same. No critiques. Just quiet admiration.

At one point, her knee brushed his, and she didn’t move it. That simple contact—steady, unthinking—sent something sure and rooted through him.

She nudged him. “Whatcha drawing?”

“Nothing yet. Just shapes and tone.”

She smiled knowingly. “That’s how your best stuff always starts, isn’t it?”

KT’s pencil paused. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

They kept drawing.

When the breeze shifted and a few pine needles scattered onto the deck, Lolo brushed one from her sketchpad, then looked up. “You know what we’ll need if this becomes your place?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“A pair of slippers for me here.” She grinned. “And a backup box of graphite pencils.”

KT’s throat tightened a little at her use of we’ll . He didn’t say anything, just reached across and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“I like that idea,” he said. “You having your own stash here.”

She smiled at him, not teasing, not flirtatious. Just real.

And right then, as the wind whispered through the trees, and she returned her attention to her sketch, KT knew that this wasn’t just a maybe anymore.

This felt like home.

They lingered on the deck long after their pencils stilled, the sketches between them scattered like shared secrets. Neither seemed in a rush to break the spell. KT leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out with a sigh of quiet contentment.

Lolo tucked one foot beneath her, her pad still resting on her lap, though her attention had drifted to the tree line. “If I close my eyes,” she murmured, “I can almost hear the lake.”

He listened. Sure enough, there was a faint lapping sound—water against a distant shore. “That’s what I want more of,” he said. “The almost.”

She looked at him, puzzled.

“The quiet spaces. The in-betweens. The parts of life where everything feels…just right.” He glanced at her sketch. “I used to think you had to chase inspiration. Now I think maybe you just have to stay still long enough for it to find you.”

Lolo smiled, warm and wide. “Then you’re in the right place.”

He reached over, ran his thumb lightly along a streak of graphite smudged on her wrist. “So are you.”

She caught his hand in hers, held it a beat longer than necessary.

“I hope,” she said softly, “this becomes your place, KT.”

“It already is,” he answered.

They sat like that, hands twined, surrounded by pine and the breeze and everything unspoken but understood.

Eventually, the sunlight shifted, casting longer shadows across the deck. The stillness, though peaceful, began to hum with the quiet knowledge that time was passing.

Lolo gave a soft sigh and nudged her sketchbook closed. “If we stay much longer, I’m going to curl up in one of these chairs and never leave.”

KT chuckled and stretched, brushing pine needles from his shirt. “That’s not the worst idea I’ve heard today. ”

She stood slowly, rolled her shoulders and looked out at the trees once more. “You’ll come back soon, right? Even if you don’t decide right away about the house.”

He rose beside her and touched her back lightly. “I’ll come back. I want to see it again with different light…and I want to see you here again, too.”

Her smile bloomed, quiet and sure. “Then we’ll bring more pencils.”

Together, they gathered their supplies in companionable silence. KT paused at the door for one last look, then locked it behind them.

As they made their way down the steps and toward the car, his hand found hers again.

Parts of the path ahead might still be unknown, but this—this felt steady beneath his feet.