Page 21 of The Bad Boy’s Homecoming (The Southern Hart Brothers #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Missy

Something New

M issy’s hand flew over the pages, but no matter how hard she tried to capture the exact shape of the shell and the colors, each one seemed to lack something.

She could hear Levi banging around in the kitchen and wondered what he was making but didn’t ask.

They’d been living in this house together, and around each other for a week now, and she was getting too comfortable around him.

It had been shocking when he kissed her but it also instantly lit a fire deep inside that worried her.

She’d struggled her entire life with the idea that emotional attachments would always cause her pain.

Because it had rung true her entire life.

Her mother, Aunt Honey, and then her boyfriend in law school.

“Why on earth are these on the floor?” Mrs. Hart’s groggy voice startled her as she sat staring at her sketchbook but not really seeing it.

“Oh, they’re not right,” she said looking down at the pages she’d pulled from the sketch pad and strewn on the floor like some mad scientist.

Mrs. Hart had scooped up several of the sketches and held them delicately by the edge of the pages.

“Darlin’, if you were trying to sketch a potato I would agree these are not right.

But if you were trying to sketch a detailed conch shell that looks like it has come alive off the page, then you nailed it. ”

“I don’t like them,” Missy said, looking down at several more she’d tossed aside.

“I’ll take that bet. We’ll post these on your site as works in progress and see if they sell. When I prove I’m right, you take me out to lunch.”

“Mrs. Hart, people don’t want a pencil sketch of a shell.”

“Are you telling me you’ve never seen an artist’s pencil drawn sketch displayed in, say, the Louvre, or sold for millions by some hoity-toity auctioneer?

” Mrs. Hart tsked. “You may be an art savant, but you still have a lot to learn about this business. People want to see your sketches, and you know what else they want to see? You. Your story, your process, your studio.” Mrs. Hart shuffled around the well-lit room, with glass window panes, and art hanging on each wall.

“I don’t want to share every aspect of my art,” Missy said, with more annoyance than she realized she felt.

Mrs. Hart just smiled like she’d tricked her into admitting something.

“Gran, Dalton just pulled up. You’ll have to pick on our patient later,” Levi said.

Mrs. Hart picked up the rest of the sketches and carefully placed each one on the nearby table where Missy usually made the frames for each piece of art.

“Wow, these are amazing,” Levi said as Dalton walked into the sunroom studio.

Dalton was still in his scrubs and he stopped near the table to get a look at the sketches as well.

“I bet you already bought these out from under me too,” Dalton said. “Missy, I’ll double his offer.”

“They aren’t for sale,” she muttered and stood. “But I’ll give them all to you Dr. Hart, if you promise cleaning my hand won’t hurt today.”

She faced three sets of blue eyes that all looked familiar and unique at the same time.

“It hurts,” she admitted.

“I actually can promise it won’t hurt as much once we’re done, because I brought numbing spray and a higher dose of medication. I thought you might be tired of toughing it out by now,” Dalton said.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” Missy said.

Levi laughed. “Oh you haven’t known my brother long enough if you think he can be anything but smug.”

“Really, maybe it runs in the family,” Missy said, and almost crossed her arms but then remembered her hand ached and just held it up in front of her.

“Alright come on, let’s get you out of some pain,” Dalton said.

He ushered her into the kitchen and set out a sterile pad then laid out all the supplies he’d brought to clean her hand. He also set down a new prescription for her.

“Take one now, and again every eight hours, as needed. Ideally with food, or you’ll get a stomachache.”

Levi set a small glass of water in front of her and Dalton placed one pill on the table.

“It’ll probably make you a little sleepy, so you may want to only take one in the evenings when you really need it. I don’t think you’ll need them for long but with the cleaning I’d recommend it.”

She nodded and picked up the pill then swallowed it down.

Memories from being a child and her mother partying in their dirty apartment flooded her mind.

There had always been strangers around, and she’d learned quickly they weren’t always nice.

Sometimes her mother would pass out or just be gone, and she’d lock herself in her room.

But Missy wasn’t her mother and she pushed those thoughts away.

“Alright, I’m going to cut the wrap off, spray the entire surface of your hand with the numbing spray and let that take, then we’ll start the cleaning,” Dalton said, putting on gloves and waiting for her to say she was ready.

“Missy, I’m going cut you a big slice of cake after all this,” Levi said.

It was ridiculous, but it actually made her feel a little better.

“Save me a slice of that cake will ya?” Dalton said.

“No, it’s all for Missy,” Levi said.

She had no idea if there was cake or not but she liked that Levi was trying to distract her again. He leaned against the counter watching from a distance, like a sentry ready to take action if she needed him. And she liked that even more.

“Is my little brother being a nuisance? Probably singing his sad country songs and making you watch every bad baseball movie ever made,” Dalton said in a hushed tone.

Missy kept her hand still but laughed. “Sad country songs?”

“Oh ya, don’t let his silly nature fool you. Levi takes after Gran with his taste in music; in fact I think he’s been to more Dolly Parton events than Gran.”

“What?” Missy said, looking up to find Levi shaking his head.

“Every self-respecting Southern man knows Dolly Parton is a legend and if you haven’t seen her live, you haven’t lived.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Missy said.

Dalton finally had all the gauze off. “Okay this will feel cold but probably soothing too,” he said holding up a canister and making eye contact with her before he sprayed the cool mist over her entire hand.

“Oh, that does feel good, or maybe the medicine is already kicking in?”

“Maybe both,” Dalton said and he set her hand palm side up on the white cloth.

“I wanna give this a few minutes. Have you been able to sleep or eat much?”

“Last night I slept but then woke up in some pain. The ibuprofen seemed to take the edge off but not much else. I did nap a little today but then I accidentally used my hand a few times and it hurt.”

“Accidentally?”

“In the bathroom, and then on a walk. When I found the conch shell.”

“I get you want some fresh air but you need to be really careful not to get sand in this.”

Missy nodded.

“It was my fault,” Levi said.

Dalton gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t let her get it wet or dirty.”

“Got it,” Levi said.

“Which reminds me, I brought you a sleeve so you can take a shower or a bath.”

“Thanks,” Missy said, and avoided Levi’s eyes because she immediately thought of him helping her in the shower.

“Alright, now the hard part. We’re going to go over to the sink and wash the wound with warm soapy water, and it’s still going to hurt a bit. The old skin is raw and new skin needs time to grow.”

She nodded and stood to follow Dalton to the sink where he already had supplies ready. He turned on the water and filled the silver bowl. Before she could say anything Levi took her other hand.

“Just squeeze as hard as you want to and you’re allowed to scream too. Gran went for a walk because she said she couldn’t stand to hear you in pain.”

Missy gulped.

“She’s tough, and I’ll be fast,” Dalton said. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She closed her eyes and the warmth hit her first. It felt scalding hot. She gripped Levi’s hand and her nails dug into the skin on the back of his hand. He stood close enough that she could feel his power and tense muscles up against her side.

“Almost done, just a rinse now, then I’ll pat it dry and get the ointment on it,” Dalton said.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as much from their tenderness as from the pain. Levi’s other hand was on her back now, stroking and trying to soothe her. How was it that this man she barely knew was showing her so much compassion?

“Done. Now I’ll just wrap it and you can eat all the cake you want,” Dalton said. She could hear him walk away and she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Opening her eyes, she realized she was still squeezing Levi’s hand and found his strained eyes staring down at her, lines of worry on his forehead. And he raised his hand to swipe away her tears.

“I’m okay,” Missy said.

“You don’t have to be, not with me,” he said, his voice husky.

She pulled her good hand away, unsure what was happening between them.

Dalton was right there just a few feet away.

He must have heard Levi but he didn’t say anything.

He stood cutting strips of gauze and set out pieces of tape cut in equal squares.

She sat back down at the table, careful to rest her hand palm up.

Exhaustion made her shoulders feel heavy.

Levi didn’t say another word and just moved to the stove to stir something he’d made earlier.

“Did you try to paint at all today?” Dalton asked.

“No, I didn’t have the energy to try, but Declan brought me the sketch pad. I think he thought it would help.”

“Did it?”

“At first, but then it just annoyed me more that I couldn’t capture the shell the way I wanted to with a pencil.”

“Maybe tomorrow Levi can open your paints up for you and you can teach him how to clean the brushes when you’re done,” Dalton said.

“Maybe,” she said right before she yawned.

“Ahh see, all done. Time for dinner, cake, and bed. Brooke will be checking on you tomorrow after her shift.”