Sean watched as she bit down on her lower lip, and it highlighted the lushness of her mouth and the vibrancy of her green eyes. Somehow it managed to increase the heat swirling in his gut. If he’d expected her to be embarrassed by his mild flirting, he was wrong. She didn’t look the least bit undone. Leah could hold her own, that was for sure.

  “You’re a confident guy,” she remarked and rested her elbows on the counter.

  He shrugged shamelessly. “Perhaps I should say, not that I know of.”

  Her brows arched dramatically. “Do you think kissing is important?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Me, too,” she said and grinned.

  “Sugar?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “On reflection, my last boyfriend Xavier was a terrible kisser.”

  “Was he?” he queried, not liking the way the idea of her kissing someone else made him feel. He’d never been the jealous type. Jealousy meant feelings. And having feelings beyond friendship for Leah was out of the question.

  “Oh,” she added and waved a hand, “not technically... I mean, he knew what he was doing...but he always treated it like it was a means to an end, if you get what I mean.”

  “He was more interested in the finish line?”

  She nodded. “Yeah...as though it was a race. But I like kissing. I could do it for hours. Not that I ever have,” she said, then grinned and rested her chin on her hands. “But it would be fun, I think, just to kiss someone for the simple pleasure of it. Without an agenda. Or end game in mind.”

  Sean’s collar felt uncomfortably tight, but he mustered all his self-control and ignored it, as well as the way his awareness of her had suddenly shifted on some weird axis. All he could do was stare at her mouth and imagine what it would be like to kiss her.

  Over and over.

  All over...

  “I guess it’s the whole idea of men and women thinking about sex differently,” he added hurriedly.

  She nodded. “Yeah, no doubt. I think it must feel different when we actually make love, as opposed to simply having sex. You know, to be with someone and it’s more than physical, more than just a few seconds of orgasmic bliss. When the touching is so intense you can’t bear it if it stops. Or when you can be side by side and look into each other’s eyes and know that they’re the only person’s eyes you want to see your own reflection in.”

  She stopped and sighed heavily, her cheeks redder than usual, her green eyes darker, her lovely mouth fuller, her gaze completely focused on him, and the moment was intensely erotic. He wondered if she knew how sexy she was, if she was aware that her skin flushed with a rosy hue when she spoke. But no...there was nothing overt or deliberate about Leah. She was all color and creative passion...an artist, an old soul, someone who put all of herself into everything she did and every word she spoke. And he remembered how he’d tried to convince himself she wasn’t attractive and admitted he’d been kidding himself. Because there was something about her that got his attention. Something that made him want to spend time with her. Something he couldn’t define. He wondered, not as vaguely as he probably should have, if her skin flushed that same rosy hue in places that never saw the sun...

  “So, do I need to wear a suit to this wedding?” Sean asked, trying to shift his thoughts away from her skin, her mouth and every other part of her.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Do you have one?”

  “Armani,” he replied, referring to a comment she’d previously made about her slick, city-boy ex. “The party is also fairly formal.”

  “I’ll frock up accordingly,” she said and grinned. “Shall we start painting?”

  Sean nodded. Although the last thing he wanted to do was paint. What he actually wanted to do was stride around the counter, haul her into his arms and kiss her like crazy.

  No. Chance. In. Hell.

  “Sure thing,” he said and quickly shook off the idea.

  * * *

  Three days after their painting endeavors, Sean dropped by her father’s house for dinner. Now that she was settled into her dad’s place and into her old room, Leah knew she’d done the right thing by moving back in. She liked that she could discreetly manage her father’s physio appointments and ensure he was eating well and doing his exercises.

  Dinner was her way of being neighborly, since she appreciated the time Sean spent playing chess with her dad. She suspected that Sean liked their quiet, nonquestioning camaraderie. Since her dad also liked long silences and solitude, chess was the perfect pastime for both men.

  “Thank you for being Dad’s friend.”

  Sean looked up from the dinner table. The meal was done, and Ivan had retired to the living room to watch a show on the History Channel. Leah was clearing plates when she spoke.

  “What?” he asked, a little frustrated. “Don’t turn your back on me,” he said tightly, getting to his feet and touching her shoulder.

  She turned to face him, awareness coming into her expression. “I’m sorry. I should have realized you couldn’t follow what I was saying with my back to you. I was thanking you for being such a good friend to my dad.” She hesitated. “The truth is, Sean... I’d like to better understand what you’re feeling and how I can... I don’t know. Help.”

  Sean sighed heavily. “No... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just have things on my mind.”

  “What things?” she asked, meeting his gaze, thinking that she really did need to stop imagining there was more between them than friendship, even though they’d seen one another every day since Saturday. “Tell me.”

  He sighed again. “I have an appointment on Tuesday with an audiologist in Rapid City, a referral from my doctor in LA. I think the whole thing is making me...you know...”

  “Grumpier than usual?” she teased and then smiled. “It’s perfectly natural. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “I’m going deaf,” he reminded her. “My life is going to change.”

  She reached out and touched his forearm. “It’ll be okay, Sean,” she offered, meaning it, but knowing it was an inadequate response. “I know I can’t understand exactly what you’re feeling, but I do believe that when you’re ready, you will find a way to navigate through this.”

  He nodded. “I guess I wasn’t expecting this kind of change.”

  “You’re grieving,” she said gently. “You know, missing what you used to have...your old life.”

  “Maybe,” he said and grabbed the empty breadbasket from the table and a couple of plates before he walked around the counter. “But the truth is, I don’t really miss that life. At least not the parts that now seem superficial. I miss working,” he admitted. “I miss being a part of something. I miss contributing to something. I miss working with people who are just starting out—those artists who have big dreams and just need someone to believe in them. You know, I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. A nice house. A fancy car. And no idea what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.” He made a self-disgusted sound. “Poor me, right?”

  Leah touched his arm, feeling the tension like it had a life force of its own. “Despair is a normal human reaction. So is fear, and confusion. But you’ll get through it. You’re a talented guy who knows how to be successful. Look at everything you’ve accomplished. I know you can work through this, too.”

  He placed a hand over hers and squeezed her fingers softly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. And you’re right... I just need to figure out what I want to do. What about you?” he asked, and was suddenly stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “What do you want?”

  Leah swallowed hard. “I want... I want to be happy.”

  “And what makes you happy?”

  “Sculpting, painting, working in my studio. Being with my family. My friends. My dogs.”

  His mouth curled at the edges. “That’s a lot of things. You’re lucky.”

  “I feel lucky,” she said honestly. “For a long time though, I didn’t. After Gary, after Xavier...” Her voice trailed off, and she was hypnotized by the feel of his thumb brushing across her skin. “After my mom died...all I felt was alone. But time is a good healer. And when one person leaves your life, sometimes, if you’re lucky, someone else comes into it.”

  “Your optimism is something I like about you, Leah. It’s very...comforting.”

  “I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”

  “I can be nice,” he said, still touching her, still working his own brand of magic on her skin, her thoughts and her awakening libido. Even if she could never acknowledge it. Never admit to him that in the past week she’d begun to feel inexplicably drawn toward him. Because he didn’t feel that way about her, and she wasn’t about to start imagining anything different.

  “I’m sure you can,” she said and pulled back, putting space between them. “So, what kind of new career are you thinking about? You know, maybe music isn’t as lost to you as you think. There have to be other things in the industry you can do that are just as satisfying.”

  He nodded and dropped his hand. “Maybe. I’ve certainly never been interested in the family business.”

  Leah understood. Sean was a man used to making his own way and not relying on his family. “Maybe you should write a book,” she suggested. “I’ll bet you have some interesting behind-the-scenes tales from all your time in LA.”

  He laughed. “Some. But nothing I can write without the prospect of being chased by lawyers for the next ten years. By the way,” he added and grabbed the keys and cell phone he’d left on the counter, “it’s my pleasure.”

  Leah stilled. “What is?”

  “Being your dad’s friend,” he replied. “And yours. Anyway, I gotta bail. See you Saturday, if not before.”

  Leah watched him leave and experienced a familiar sense of solitude once she was alone. She’d become accustomed to her own company in the past few months and was mostly okay with it. But hanging out with Sean had made her think about how much she liked male company. And his company in particular. She’d missed it. She missed the warm sound of a man’s laughter. She missed the camaraderie, the conversation.

  And she missed sex.

  Not that Gary or Xavier had been dynamos in bed. And she suspected she wasn’t, either. Xavier had called her boring and predictable. Gary said she was afraid to take a chance. But she missed the closeness, the intimacy. Spending time with Sean had amplified how alone she was. And since her brother and Annie got together, she’d come to believe that soul mates were a possibility. Like her mom and dad.

  “What did you say, sweetie?”

  Leah looked up and spotted her father standing in the doorway. “Nothing. I think I sighed.”

  Ivan smiled. “Sean’s gone home?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Well, I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

  “He’s spending a lot of time here lately,” Ivan mentioned as he came into the room and placed an empty mug in the sink. “And not just to play chess.”

  Heat climbed up her neck. “We’re just hanging out. Don’t read anything else into it, Dad.”

  Ivan shrugged. “Has he told you what’s troubling him? I know Gwen is worried.”

  “Ah...no,” she lied, careful not to betray Sean’s confidence. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Gwen says he’s not talking,” Ivan said and sighed heavily. “I thought maybe he might have opened up to you. People usually do,” he added and kissed her forehead gently. “Good night, hon.”

  Leah headed for her room and had a quick shower. Afterward, she changed into warm pajamas and settled herself in bed with her tablet and read a book for half an hour. She turned out the light around ten thirty but had an unusually restless night and roused around seven o’clock feeling lethargic and irritable. She spent most of the morning in her workshop, finishing off the piece for the O’Sullivan Hotel foyer, and headed into town around lunchtime to buy a dress for the fancy O’Sullivan birthday party she was attending on Sunday. She met Ellie, Winona and Annie for lunch at the bakery, talked a little about the wedding and any last-minute jobs that needed doing, and then informed her future sister-in-law that she was bringing a date to the wedding.

  “I can’t believe you’re dating an O’Sullivan,” Ellie said and frowned a little. “And especially Sean, since he’s got the worst reputation when it comes to women.”

  “I’m pretty sure that most of that talk is simple gossip, considering he has been living in Los Angeles for the past decade,” Leah said in defense of Sean and sipped her coffee. “And we’re not dating. We’re friends. Anyhow, I have to run. I’ll see you all on Saturday.”

  She left the bakery and walked half a block to the hotel, asking the concierge if Liam or the assistant manager, Connie, was available. Liam appeared about five minutes later, and she told him she’d have the piece for the foyer delivered the following morning.

  “Great,” he said and walked to the spot near the front window. “I’m sure it will look good. My mother has assured me it’s a solid investment.”

  “I hope so. Gwen is very supportive.”

  “She has an eye for talent. And other things,” he added and winked. “I hear you’re coming to the party on Sunday?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I actually wasn’t sure if Sean would show up. But knowing he’s bringing you is quite the assurance. So, thank you, for whatever it is that you are doing. He’s obviously going through something at the moment. Not that he’s talking to me or Kieran about whatever it is, but we appreciate the fact you’re in his life.”

  It sounded absurdly intimate. “I’m not,” she insisted. “We’re just friends.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes that’s enough. And it’s obviously what he needs. Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing the sculpture.”

  Leah said goodbye and headed out, walking toward the museum and art gallery. Liam’s wife, Kayla, was the curator, but since the birth of their second child, she worked only part-time. There was an older woman named Shirley who managed the small gift shop and entrance, and she greeted Leah with a warm smile. Leah walked around the gallery for a while, finding comfort among the quiet and solitude. As a teen, troubled by not quite fitting in at school because she was artistic and liked her own company, she’d spent a lot of time in the gallery, sitting by her favorite pieces, imagining that one day she would carve her own career as a successful artist.

  No such luck...

  She sighed, thinking about her old dreams and her current reality. One piece for the hotel foyer did not make a career. Not that she wasn’t grateful to Gwen and Liam for giving her the opportunity. But she knew it wasn’t enough. She needed to push past her polarizing insecurity—the thing was, she didn’t know how.

  “Leah?”

  She turned and discovered Sean standing a few feet away from her. “Oh, hi. What are doing here?”

  He stepped closer. A habit she’d come to recognize and one she knew had to do with his condition. “I was across the street at the dry cleaner’s and saw you.”

  She nodded. “I was just checking things out. I haven’t been here for a while.”

  He looked around and grinned a little. “Yeah, I have to admit I don’t hang out here often.”

  “Not your scene,” she said and relaxed. “I get it.”

  “It’s your scene, though,” he said and walked toward a carved timber sculpture in the center of the room. “What’s this meant to be?” he asked.

  Leah moved beside him and looked over the piece. “I think it’s a man and a woman embracing.”

  He tilted his head, his expression curious and questioning. “Nah...can’t see it.”

  Leah laughed softly. “Look here,” she said and traced her hand in an arc along one side of the sculpture. “Here’s her waist and hips.” She ran her fingers around the wood. “And this is obviously his...butt.”

  He grinned. “Obviously.”

  Leah dropped her hand. “Well, that’s where I would have put it, if I’d made this piece.”

  “So,” he said and moved toward several more pieces. “Do you have anything on display?”

  She shook her head and met his gaze “No. Although...”

  “Although?”

  “Your mom and Kayla keep asking me to have a showing.”

  “Why don’t you?” he asked bluntly.

  Leah sighed. “Oh, you know, blatant insecurity, fear of being humiliated, what if no one turns up...all of the above.”

  He didn’t flinch. “Do you have enough pieces completed for a showing?”

  She half shrugged. “Probably. Yes. Sure.”

  Another couple came into the gallery, and they offered a brief greeting before Sean moved close beside her and led her into the adjoining room, one filled with glass cabinets that housed an array of local indigenous art pieces.

  “Then maybe it’s worth thinking about.”

  She looked at him, dropping her guard entirely. “I’m scared, Sean.”

  “Of what?” he asked gently, tipping his head so close to hers she could feel the heat emanating from him.

  “Failing,” she admitted. “Proving that the last time I had a showing it was just bad organizing on my manager’s part. Of not being good enough. Take your pick.”

  “Fear is normal. So is insecurity.”

  “Are you saying that from personal experience?” she asked pointedly.

  He smirked. “Absolutely. Remember, Leah, you know all my secrets. So, taking my own foolish pride and fear out of this conversation, the trick, at least as far as I believe, is having people around you who support you and believe in you. Like your dad, and my mother,” he said and nodded. “And me. If you want to have a showing, then you should do exactly that.”