Page 20 of The Bad Boy’s Homecoming (The Southern Hart Brothers #2)

“Interesting, I bet she saw one of the pieces that was commissioned,” Levi said, knowing she would hate to know he’d sent a few pictures of her work to one of his friends’ wives that ran an art gallery in Atlanta. At the time, he’d wanted to know if she was legit or a fraud.

“Maybe, but I don’t think I’m ready for all that. If ever.”

“What, why not? Isn’t that part of the point? Artists need to be discovered. Wouldn’t getting in a gallery propel your business?”

“Maybe, or one bad showcase could destroy the success I’m already enjoying.”

“Ahhh, I see,” Levi said, putting his hands in his pockets to avoid reaching out to touch her. “So if you don’t put your art up there to be judged, you won’t risk being judged?”

Missy looked at him full on now, but before she could respond her foot stumbled over something in the sand and Levi barely caught her by the shoulders before she fell face first. He was careful to grip her biceps but she’d raised her hands to catch herself on instinct, and her injured hand was on his chest.

He could see the pain roll over her, as her face charged with anguish, her eyes watered, and her mouth opened to cry out.

On instinct he pulled her closer, kissing her open mouth and swallowing her cry.

Her body trembled from the pain and he gently bit her bottom lip, hoping it would distract her a little.

Her full lips were lush and her body tensed from the shock, but then she seemed to melt into his grasp before sinking down to the sand.

With his hold on her arms he managed to slowly lower her and follow her down to the sand.

He hovered his body above her and found her mouth like a magnet searching for the connection.

He kissed her lips first and then moved to her eyelids, and her high cheekbones with light adoring kisses. Tasting the salt of her tears.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her skin. “I know that must have hurt so much. I shouldn’t have brought you out here.”

Her breath was coming fast like she’d been running a sprint, and she squeezed her eyes shut. But continued to take deep breaths until finally she came back to the present and settled her eyes on him.

“I think burns must be the most painful injuries, because I’ve never cried so much in my life,” she said through clenched teeth.

He brushed away some sand that had gotten in her hair and was careful to settle his weight on her left side, as far away from her injured hand as possible.

“I was hoping to distract you from the pain,” he said, hearing his own voice gruff with desire. “I think we really need to ask Dalton for an actual pain reliever when he comes by later.”

Her brown eyes fluttered open but swirled with emotion he couldn’t discern.

“I told Dalton I didn’t want anything more than an ibuprofen because I’m afraid I could get addicted.”

Levi sighed. “Because of your family history?”

She nodded.

“Have you ever had surgery or serious medication before?”

“Only once.”

“And did you feel lost or unable to stop?”

“No. But it’s not worth the risk.”

“Let’s just see what Dalton thinks—maybe there’s a less addictive option.”

She nodded and let out a deep breath that sounded like she was carrying the weight of the world. “You don’t have to be so nice to me, or take care of me. It wasn’t your fault; you aren’t responsible for me, or my injury,” she said, her big eyes staring up at him.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“Do you think we could suspend reality for a few days, and you just pretend I’m your person?

You take the pain reliever you really need, and you let me help you with all the things?

Not because I feel bad or owe you, but because I want to.

Just until your hand is healed up a bit. And you could stop worrying.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to do that. To let someone else take care of me.”

“It doesn’t have to be anything more than letting me check on you, cook you some meals, maybe you laugh at my jokes, and you stop worrying about losing control. If I start to see any signs of chaos, I’ll let you know.”

“You promise you won’t let me go off the rails?”

“I promise.”

Her breathing steadied and her eyes looked less strained as she stared up at him.

“Alright then as my first act of duty, let me get you home, cleaned up, and maybe a popsicle will make you feel better.”

Peeling himself off of her, he leaned down then tucked his hands under her arms, and he pulled her up with ease. But she wasn’t as steady on her feet as he’d hoped.

“Whoa, van Gogh, we can’t risk you getting any more injuries. The world is waiting for more masterpieces.”

Holding her close he followed her gaze down to the sand.

“What was it that I tripped over anyway?” she said finally.

Levi spotted the reddish orange shell in the sand and reached down to lift it up.

“A conch shell—that’s usually considered a very lucky find.”

Missy’s good hand reached out to take the shell he offered, and she turned it over in her hand. “There’s a crack in the side. That must be why there’s no animal living in it.

“A castaway.”

She brushed off the sand. “It’s beautiful.”

“Let’s head back. I bet Gran is awake and has noticed we’ve disappeared.”

She just nodded and tucked the shell in her pocket.

Neither of them spoke as they walked back.

It was almost dusk, and the house was quiet.

Missy headed right to the sunroom and placed the shell on a table she kept her brushes on, then she picked up her sketch pad and pencils.

Sitting in the wingback chair, she studied the shell for a moment before her hand started to move with the pencil over the page.

Levi couldn’t name it, but he was certain something had shifted between them on the beach.

She’d been open with him about her story and vulnerable about her pain.

Not only had she let him kiss her, but she’d latched on to their passion, even in her pain, and kissed him back.

She was quickly becoming someone he wanted to know everything about and to protect.