Page 10 of The Bad Boy’s Homecoming (The Southern Hart Brothers #2)

CHAPTER TEN

Missy

A Handle on You

A fter staying at Declan’s for two nights, Missy was back at Hart House with an overwhelming need to paint.

Mrs. Hart was with her sewing circle in town for the rest of the afternoon, so Missy loaded up a bag with her supplies and several canvases and trekked out to her favorite place on the beach.

Setting up her easel outside was always a risk Missy was willing to take.

She didn’t claim to have perfect technique, and she’d only taken a handful of art classes in her life.

But she did know, being outside with the sunshine, a soft breeze, and not another soul in sight was the best way for her to feel what she was painting.

She was already on her third canvas. The dark ocean was flat and still this afternoon, but the sky was a vibrant aqua blue, with only a few fluffy white clouds and the occasional bird flying by.

A perfect day to paint until a very tall, very fit, and very gorgeous man sprinted across the empty beach only to stop short and lean over to rest his hands on his knees. Levi Hart.

“What in the world?” she mumbled to herself and waited to see what he would do.

He was sucking in deep breaths after his run down the beach, and she could easily see the carved muscles of his arms and legs. She had to assume his abs would be equally impressive.

Then he stood up straight, his stomach flexing in knots of more muscles, and he turned to the left to look up above the dunes.

It felt like his gaze landed in her direction and it seemed like he was staring right at her.

Even though she couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, she could feel them rake over her all the same.

Then he started to stalk through the sand, up the dune, toward her.

All he wore were his running shorts, sneakers, and a cheeky grin.

“Are you following me, Little Miss Messy?” Levi said, as his large form moved around her to look at both her completed pieces, and the one she was still working on. He stood close enough for her to smell his musky, citrus scent. Of course he would still smell good sweaty.

“Very funny, up until a few days ago this was my beach to paint whenever I wanted, and I didn’t need to worry about being bothered by anyone.”

“I hate to break it to you, but this private beach is all Hart property, so unless you’re joining the family…” Levi trailed off and pushed his sunglasses up into his mussed wavy hair, which looked thick to the touch.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not certain about anything with you”—he leaned closer to one of her finished paintings—“but my gran was right: you’re insanely talented.”

“Why do you insist on giving me such a hard time?”

“Because I can’t get anyone to tell me why you’re really living at my grandmother’s house. Or why she treats you like a wounded bird.”

Missy clamped her mouth shut and bit the inside of her cheek, or she was going to give Levi Hart a piece of her mind. And that was only going to antagonize him more. She didn’t owe him, or anyone, details about why she’d returned to Sandy Point.

“Nothing? Not even one clue?” Levi asked, pinning her with his inquisitive eyes again.

“You have to understand that for my entire life my grandmother has been tough as nails, bossy, and independent. And now she has a companion with no formal medical training living in our family home. But the dynamic between you makes it seem like she is taking just as much care of you as you are of her. So I’m feeling protective. ”

Missy sighed and felt some of the tension roll out of her shoulders. Looking into his eyes she could see his genuine concern.

“I can understand you wanting to vet the woman living with your grandmother, but I think you already know more about me than any employer should expect. And you’re not my employer.

Your brothers hired me—the town doctor and sheriff are usually considered good references.

Not to mention we all know your grandmother runs the show here.

She may be slowing down, but her mind is sharp. ”

“Maybe if you shared the real reasons you wanted a job as a companion for my grandmother, I wouldn’t have to be so inquisitive. Then I could trust you, just like my brothers, whom you seem to have wrapped around your little painted fingers.”

His tone was more soothing than she expected from him.

“They trust me because they respect my cousin, and they know I would never let Declan down. He’s the only family I have left.”

He stepped closer, and she recognized the sadness in his dark eyes.

“We’re both orphans,” he said in a whisper. “My biggest worry is the fact that you seem to have cast your spell over me too.”

Then his hand reached out to clasp hers with gentle pressure, and she didn’t pull away. She wanted to know what he would do next. She was completely invested in enjoying his touch. And it was as warm and thrilling as she’d guessed it would be.

“You always have paint on you,” he said, as his thumb traced the blue paint that she’d accidentally smeared along the back of her forefinger.

Then his fingers intertwined with hers and gripped her hand in a way she found intimate but familiar, as if they’d held hands hundreds of times before.

The contrast of her tan-light-brown skin against his freckled sun-kissed peachy skin was beautiful.

It would take her hours to try to color-match these shades for a painting.

When she was finally brave enough to look back up, he’d stepped even closer into her personal space.

And she was face to face with the flock of sparrows tattooed along the front of his bicep, an intricate cross on his chest, and cursive script along his ribcage.

His tattoos were pieces of art, much like his physique.

But before she could try to make sense of the story the ink told, his other hand swooped up to cup her jaw.

“More paint, right here,” he said while his thumb slid along her jawline. “That canvas is almost as beautiful as you in this color.”

She stepped back, dropping his hand and breaking the connection, while she gulped a few deep breaths.

“It’s not going to work. I’m not going to fall for your game and spill all my secrets. So you can stop trying whatever this is. You’ve made your point—you don’t trust me. But you know what, I don’t trust you either.”

“It’s funny, because I think you’re the one playing the game, luring me into your web, like everyone else.”

He stood there staring at her and she could see his chest was also heaving after the charged moment. Like a jolt of recognition between strangers.

“I need to finish these before I lose the light,” she said, turning away and picking up her brush again.

“Right, I’ll see you back at the house then.” For the first time he wasn’t fighting her; it was as if he wanted to get away as well.

Missy fought the urge to watch him walk back toward the beach, but it was useless.

The moment her eyes fell on his beautiful back with another tattoo on his right shoulder, she couldn’t look away.

A detailed black tree that looked familiar, but this one had no leaves and what seemed like angry branches.

It spanned the entire upper right shoulder of his back and she was dying to know what it meant.

This man was more tempting than anyone had a right to be, but she couldn’t stay at her cousin’s any longer or he’d get suspicious. The last thing she needed was for Declan to think she was into Levi. She was just going to have to try and avoid him until he left.

*

Two hours later she finally got all her supplies cleaned up and made her way up the back stairwell to her room. But just as she started down the hallway, the bathroom door opened up and Levi stood, once again without a shirt, but now with only a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just subjected to using the hall bathroom because someone took my room from me.”

“I happen to know there’s a bathroom in your guest room,” she said, trying to step around him.

“Yes, but I don’t fit in that tiny shower; besides this one has better water pressure and soap.”

The scent of lavender and mint wafted in the air mixed with his scent.

“Did you take the soap from my shower?”

“Maybe. I forgot to get some in town, and I like the scent on you.”

She didn’t stop to make eye contact or argue; instead she just stomped down the hall to her room and gently closed the door. Now he was flirting with her, which seemed even more dangerous than him just being suspicious of her, because she liked it.