Page 18 of Canvas of Lies (Spruce Hill #3)

Chapter Thirteen

Nico

B y Sunday afternoon, I knew I would never look at the cabin the same way again.

From my solitary bachelor escape to our own delightful love nest—it was an evolution I hadn’t foreseen but definitely didn’t regret.

There’d been a few scattered brainstorming sessions involved, but for the most part, Kat managed to keep my mind completely off of the painting.

As a result, I felt curiously lighthearted as we packed a small cooler with the remaining perishables from the fridge, even if I suspected she’d done plenty of silent scheming in her own head.

“Where’s your car?” Kat asked suddenly. “I didn’t see it, not even when I took off.”

I grinned. “Parked about fifty yards south, in the underbrush. I was afraid you might have learned how to hot-wire a car over the years and didn’t want to tempt fate by parking right outside.”

“Hmm. That’s unfortunately not in my skill set,” she mused, then cocked a brow at me. “Do you know how to hot-wire a car?”

“Sadly, no. Maybe we should learn together.”

“It would’ve been a useful skill that time your dad caught me stealing keys to my father’s Corvette in high school.”

I choked on a laugh. “He never told me about that.”

“I swore him to secrecy.”

Her brilliant grin filled me with an oddly buoyant feeling of hope.

After carefully placing the last two bottles of hard cider into the cooler, I flipped the lid into place and pulled Kat into my arms. She immediately snuggled in, rubbing her face against my chest like that was right where she belonged.

As far as I was concerned, it was exactly that.

For several long moments, we stood there together, soaking in the simple comfort of each other’s presence. Finally, I loosened my hold, tipped her chin up, and kissed her soundly.

“Let’s get you home, Kitten.”

The drive back to Spruce Hill felt like a blast from the past, a comfortable, intimate interlude far removed from our real lives. We sang along to the radio, slowed down to let a small family of deer cross the road, and eventually stopped at a yard sale just outside of town.

I smiled indulgently as I watched Kat explore the goods.

She looked like a kid in a candy shop, exclaiming over cheap but nostalgic junk as much as she did over the one or two items she thought might be worth fixing up to resell.

Those blue eyes were alight with enthusiasm, her pretty lips curved in a near-constant smile as she studied the two folding tables full of toys.

“I still can’t believe you broke my phone,” she muttered under her breath as she set a toy car back down again. “I could be looking this stuff up, but no, it had to be tossed into the damn dumpster.”

I took the two items from her hands, held them up to show the middle aged woman behind the table, and handed over a ten dollar bill.

“Problem solved,” I said, winking at the saleswoman before turning the goods over to Kat. “And I’m very sorry about your phone, for the tenth time. I’ve already ordered a replacement for you. It’s a newer model, better camera.”

Kat scowled at me, but the delight in her eyes softened it. “Yeah, yeah. You just want to play hero so I’ll fawn all over you.”

I held open her car door and bowed as she sat. “I’m counting on it. In fact, anything you want to do all over me is perfectly acceptable, in case you need any encouragement.”

When she glared, I only laughed and closed the door behind her.

The rest of the drive was quieter, signaling the end of our peaceful escape from reality.

As we finally neared her neighborhood, Kat opened her mouth to give me directions—then snapped it shut, apparently remembering that I knew more about her adult life than she knew of mine.

I parked the car out front and watched the debate in her eyes as she decided whether to dismiss me here or let me walk her in.

In the end, she pursed her lips and kept quiet, so I assumed I wasn’t being barred from the premises. I cocked a brow as I joined her on the sidewalk, the barest hint of a grin teasing at my lips.

“Just shut up,” she muttered.

I laughed. “I didn’t say a word.”

Kat rolled her eyes and handed me the yard sale finds so she could fish the keys out of her tiny purse.

Her home was the lower left side of a slightly rundown old Victorian that had been converted into four apartments.

The place might have been considered charming if somebody took the time to replace the broken porch railing and slap on a coat of paint here and there.

Oddly enough, despite its obvious state of disrepair, it suited Kat in a way the Willoughby estate never had.

“I can hear the gears turning, Nico,” she said as she locked the front door behind us and led me into her apartment.

“Just thinking this place is very on brand for you.” I peered around as she flipped on the lights. “Which seems strange, since I wouldn’t have pictured you somewhere like this.”

Kat snorted. “Because it’s not up to my father’s standards?”

“Well, that part is obvious, but that’s not why it suits you,” I replied easily, placing her treasures on the kitchen counter.

“No? Then why? ”

“It’s because I know how you love to find those dirty, broken, hidden gems so you can fix them up and make them pretty again.”

Warmth softened her expression, though I couldn’t quite tell if she was annoyed or pleased with my insight. I realized in that moment she was doing the same to me—taking the broken pieces of my existence and carefully gluing me back together, one shard at a time.

“Ah, yes. Well, I did tell the landlord not to be surprised if I take care of some cosmetic issues on my own dime. I just haven’t had a chance yet.”

I reached out and cupped her chin with the tips of my fingers. “It wasn’t a criticism. In fact, I think it’s one of your most endearing qualities. You are incredible.”

She sucked in a breath, even as some part of me wondered why that innocent touch affected her so profoundly after these past few days of having my hands all over her body.

I smiled down at her, sweet and comforting, knowing it would either soothe her or rile her up enough to sharpen her claws against my skin.

Within the space of a heartbeat, she closed the distance between us, sliding her arms around my waist.

For several long minutes, we stood like that in the silent apartment.

I wasn’t entirely sure who was comforting who—I knew she wanted to reassure me that we would get the painting back, would figure out some way to return my father’s legacy to my possession, but empty platitudes had never been Kat’s style .

I tried to imagine how this all might’ve played out if I’d proceeded with my plan, but every time we talked through the possibilities, I could hear the panic rising in her throat.

She’d confessed to the nightmarish images that threatened to choke her, vivid pictures of finding me bloodied, beaten, rotting in a jail cell or left for dead in the woods.

“Hey,” I said softly, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “You’re trembling.”

“It’s just been a long few days,” Kat replied.

She forced a quick smile and turned away, focusing instead on the old toys we’d brought home. That particular ploy wouldn’t work, not on me. I moved to stand behind her at the counter and set my hands on her shoulders.

“I’ll find another way, one that keeps you out of it, if that’s what you want.”

She shook her head without looking at me and said, “In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Besides, someone with half a brain needs to keep you from making any other idiotic decisions.”

I laughed softly and wrapped my arms around her. “A deal’s a deal. I won’t make any moves without your approval. Kitten . . .” I trailed off, turning her back to face me. “If I could walk away from this, I would.”

“I would never ask you to. Just give us some time to think, and we’ll figure it out. I owe your father at least this much. And you, too,” she added.

Even though she hadn’t missed the funeral by choice, it was one thing she apparently couldn’t forgive herself for .

“Together,” I promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead before brushing my lips across hers. “You have an early morning tomorrow. I’ll get out of your hair.”

I saw the debate flashing through her expressive eyes, recognized that part of her wanted to protest, to ask me to stay, but our cozy little adventure in the woods was over. It was better to readjust to real life sooner instead of later.

Kat’s pragmatism and practicality were as familiar to me as my own heart.

“I’ll get in touch with my journalist friend as soon as I find a way to contact her under the radar,” she said finally.

I cupped her cheek and she rose up on her toes to kiss me more thoroughly. When she finally drew back, I chucked her under the chin and smiled fondly.

“Sweet dreams, Kitten. I’ll get that new phone to you as soon as possible, I promise.”

Kat poked a finger into my ribs. “You’d better, or I’m keeping every cent of profit from your investments today.”

With one hand clutched over my heart, I heaved a dramatic sigh. “You are a cruel woman, Katherine Willoughby, and I am entirely at your mercy.”

If only she knew how true that was.