Always Enough (Meet Me in Montana #2) - Kelly Elliott Page 0,38

only minutes ago, then so would I. I’d continue to play the avoidance game like a master.

“Do you want some tea? I saw you had some in your pantry.”

I rubbed the sides of my arms to warm myself up some. “Hot tea sounds good. How are you going to light the stove?” I asked.

He held up the candle lighter I had bought from Etsy and winked at me. My breath stalled in my throat, and I gave him a nod. The light from the lantern cast a glow that made him look even more handsome than he was. It wasn’t fair. I probably looked like shit, and he still looked deliciously hot in the shadows.

Once he had the stove going, he poured some of the bottled waters into the teapot and put it on the fire.

“When do you think the power will come back on?”

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to look worried but doing a piss-poor job of it. “Probably not until at least midmorning.”

I sighed and looked at the chair. The thought of sitting again made me wince.

“You need help sitting down?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s feeling better. I’m sure I just bruised it. It’s just tender.”

He nodded.

Then the silence returned, before Ty broke it just as the water started to boil. “So you’re going to buy this place, huh?”

Smiling, I replied, “Yeah, Lincoln clearly doesn’t need it. I thought maybe I could turn the little room in the barn into a workroom.”

“For editing?” he asked, clearly puzzled by that.

I laughed. “No, for setting up my painting studio and such.”

Ty paused for a moment and turned to me. “So it was you who painted that painting in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

His brows pulled in some, and he regarded me for a moment or two. “Kaylee, I didn’t know you could paint.”

With a shrug and a half-hearted chuckle, I replied, “I can’t. That’s just something I’ve always dabbled in. A little hobby, if you will. I like staying busy.”

Ty poured the water into the two mugs he had gotten out and handed me one. I wrapped my hands around it and groaned in pure delight.

“So warm.”

He grinned and did the same. “How long have you been painting?”

“I don’t know—since I was around ten, maybe? Once my parents saw I was interested in it and that it kept me busy for hours, they had an entire room set up with easels and paints of every different type. It was a good way to keep me out of their sight.”

He tilted his head as he tried to read my expression. “Did you take lessons?”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Hell no. I just painted what I saw. Sort of like authors who write what they see in their minds. They use words; I use pictures. It’s an outlet for me.”

“Has my mother seen that painting?” he asked.

I thought about it. “No, I don’t think so. I just finished it a few weeks back and hung it up. It’s a picture of you, Brock, Tanner, and Beck. I’ve seen pictures of him at your folks’ place. Your mom was telling me a story about you three older brothers riding out one day toward the mountain range, and how Tanner had begged y’all to let him go. She said the three of you pretended not to notice him behind you, but it was clear you knew he was there.”

Ty’s breath hitched. “I remember that day like it was yesterday.” He looked into his tea, his smile fading just a bit. “I’m surprised my mom talked about Beck. She normally doesn’t.”

“I asked her about him.”

Ty’s eyes snapped up to mine. “You did?”

Taking a sip of the tea, I let the warmth slide down my throat and heat my entire body. “Yes. I know what it’s like to hold something inside, to fear talking about it, because then it becomes too real again. It didn’t take me long to see that your mom never spoke about Beck. Your daddy does when it’s just him. He’s mentioned Beck a few times, and I see the hurt in his eyes. Tanner talks about him too. You, Brock, and your mama, y’all keep it all inside. You both take after her in that sense. Keeping your feelings inside, locked up nice and tight where they’re safe. Where the vulnerability can’t get to you.”

Ty stared at me for the longest moment. Then he chuckled.

“I think there’s just something about you, Kaylee, that makes