toward Liam. She had to do this. She could do this.
“Show him the Michelangelo lookalike ones by Tony, okay?” Mr. Temple called after her.
“Got it.” She sucked in a breath. She could do this. She had to do this.
Chapter 7
Liam watched Evie walk toward him, and he was struck again by how beautiful she was. Only this time, she was dressed to the nines, wearing what he could only term as “gallery clothes.” Clearly, she was in sales, and she was wearing a grey pencil skirt with a pink blouse. Her tan skin and blond hair with highlights made her look sophisticated. But she was angry. “This way.”
When they reached the side of the gallery, Liam noted that the wall had five paintings suspended in the air. They focused on different beaches in Australia and different surfboarders on the beaches. He was impressed with the surfers and the talent of the artist. Of course, he was distracted by the mango-coconut scent that wafted around Evie.
“Do you like them?”
He had no idea how to take this woman. “So I’m guessing no one knows about you and I?”
Her face was frozen into that salesy kind of look. “Um, no.”
He nodded, inspecting the paintings and wanting to ask so many questions. “I like them.” But he was consumed by her. He marveled at how, in less than a couple of hours, he’d become obsessed with dissecting everything that had happened between them and kept them apart. He had to figure out why they weren’t together.
Mr. Temple wandered over to them. “What do you think of these paintings, Mr. Summerville?”
Liam took his time, walking up and down the length of the wall. Something was going on, but he was unsure of what exactly that was. As he snuck glances at Evie, he could tell that she wasn’t glad he was here, and she sure didn’t want to show him her paintings. Naturally, that made him want to see them even more. He paused. “You know, I think I would like to see the ones you talked about before.”
Evie glared at him. “Those paintings aren’t available.”
Liam hesitated. He was dying to see her paintings, but he didn’t want to push too hard.
Mr. Temple was already waving him on, and they moved quickly to the back. “Evie, you need to get over your angst. We’re showing him. They’re gorgeous, beautiful.”
“Please,” Evie told Mr. Temple. “I don’t want him to see them.”
“I want you to get used to showing people your paintings. And, Evie, Mr. Summerville is performing in Sydney next week, did you know that?” He gave her the look that told her that he had money and it would be a handsome commission. Mr. Temple gestured toward the back. “Come with me.”
They walked into an area that looked more like a warehouse. The room was arranged much like the front of the shop was, with pictures suspended in the air around the walls.
“Now look at these pictures, Mr. Summerville, and tell me they’re not amazing.”
Evie stepped in front of Liam, taking his hand. “Wait. Please don’t look at these.”
Her touch astounded him. He looked down at their joined hands, but as he did so, he caught a glance of one of the pictures—where a man was proposing on the beach. His curiosity was piqued, and he dropped her hand and moved toward them.
The first picture showed a woman and a man from behind. They were getting married on the beach, and the bride’s veil trailed down her back. His heart rate shot up when he spotted baby’s breath in the guy’s hair, nestled over his ear. He gasped when he saw a flock of seagulls under a net.
“Isn’t Evie so talented?” asked Mr. Temple.
Liam nodded, taking his time to examine the other pictures. She’d painted the two of them peering over the ocean at Plymouth. In this picture, she’d put a guitar in his hands and a paint easel in hers; they were exchanging conspiratorial smiles. The next picture featured two people soaring off a cliff, their hair flying and their mouths laughing. Warmth rushed through him and his heart lifted as he remembered that day. To have these memories on display in front of him felt…hard.
Mr. Temple pointed to the next picture. “Look at this one. I love this one.”
Liam was astounded to see himself kneeling on the beach, reaching toward Evie to offer a ring. Pain stabbed the center of his chest. She’d told him no that day. How could she have painted