“What about the paintings? I thought you were going to the gallery.”
“I am. I’m going to do it while you’re in there.”
“You’re taking my truck,” I say, her safety on the roads is of great concern to me. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
“You don’t have to. I’d never make it over the back roads in the land yacht.”
I have no idea what back roads she’s taking, but right now, all I can think about is kissing her. I lean across the cab and press my lips to hers. Everything about her mouth is incredibly hot, delicately soft, deliciously warm. After a deep, intimate kiss, one that leaves us both breathless, she inches back.
“I’ll be back at six, when class is over.” She glances past my shoulder. “Now go, before you’re late.” I grab the handle, but I’m reluctant to leave. “Thanks for the use of your truck,” she says.
The use of my truck is nothing, because as I revel in the warmth in her big brown eyes, I realize it’s the world I truly want to give her.
Chapter Nineteen
Kira
They’ve set up a small stage at the back of the Anchor, and the place teems with women of all ages. The music is loud, but the laughter and excitement buzzing in the air are louder. I stand at the bar with Izzy as she fills a tray with drinks to help the serving staff with the huge crowd.
“This is insane,” I practically yell into her ear.
She grins at me. “Everyone loved Gram, and everyone wants to save her place.”
Guilt niggles through me, and I feel like the worst granddaughter in the world. It’s not that I want to sell it—I have to. But if this town and its amazing people raise a down payment, would I still have to sell?
Oh God, I would, because I simply don’t make enough to pay the monthly mortgage payments. I need to call my mother first thing tomorrow, let her know how this town has rallied together to keep Gram’s house in the family and keep it running as a B&B. Do I think she’ll change her mind? Not a bit. But I have to try at least, right?
At least I have the studio. I’d taken some of the paintings out last week, brought them to one of the downtown galleries so they could be displayed. I could make a fair penny if I sold the studio to Pratt and Whitney—the offer keeps increasing with each letter they send—but I refuse even to entertain the idea. No way would I ever sell that out from under Gram. She asked one thing of me, and I plan to follow through. Either the B&B or the studio has to go. In my heart, I know Gram would rather I didn’t part with either, but when push comes to shove, I just can’t go back on the one last thing she asked of me.
I steal a glance around the crowded bar. Liquor and food are flowing, and everyone is in good cheer. The fishermen have all dressed up for tonight, and Nate looks sharp in a dark gray suit with a white button-down shirt, and hair that’s a bit too long to fit the corporate image he’s exuding.
With an air of authority and confidence in his every movement, he stands out as he shoulders his way through the masses. He steps up to me, a grin on his handsome face, and it’s all I can do to stop gawking at all his hotness. The man cleans up nice. Then again, I fell for him—literally—when he was wearing his fishing gear.
“So you’re not going to bid on me, save me from taking a stranger out to dinner tonight?”
“While I’d like to be the one dining with you, I refuse to. Besides, I get to take you to my bed later,” I say.
“Confident—I like that in a woman.” Our knuckles brush, and warmth goes through my body. I haven’t been here long, and I can’t believe I’m getting used to the cold, but the best part of the snowy fall is the way