Page 33 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

He nudged one of the wads of paper on the grass with his knee. “Your art?”

She puffed out a humorless laugh. “I’d say that’s pretty debatable at the moment.”

He picked up her sketch pad and studied the lighthouse. “This is good. Really good.”

She shook her head, refusing to accept his compliment. “But I can’t see what I need to see. Usually I know what glass I would use for this part or this one—the textures and depths they’ll create. It speaks to me.” She rolled her eyes to the heavens, well aware that her explanation rarely made sense to anyone but herself. “I know that sounds weird, but it does.”

“Who am I to argue with genius?” He flipped back through the pages and stopped on the sketch of himself. “Holy shit.”

Her cheeks grew hot at his discovery.

Nate glanced from the page to Callie and back. “How the hell do you do this? I feel like I’m looking in a mirror.”

“I don’t know. I just do. But that one was easy.”

His eyes grew wide. “This was easy?”

She nodded.

“Why?

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why was this one easy for you but the lighthouse isn’t?”

“I…” She huffed out a breath, trying to put her process into words. “I got lost in it. I didn’t even know I was drawing it until I focused and there you were. I guess I was caught up in the way you…” She stopped, realizing she’d been about to say far more than she should or ever would.

He set the pad back down and captured her hands again. “In the way I what?”

She jerked her shoulders, watching his thumbs move over her skin. “Uh, in the way you make me feel.”

His blue eyes grew intense as they held hers. “How do I make you feel?”

“Relaxed. Happy.” She couldn’t help but smile. “You make me laugh.”

He grinned. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

Her smile faded as she squeezed his fingers. “What am I going to do?”

He opened his mouth to answer as her phone started ringing.

She sat back in her seat and groaned.

“Do you want me to get that?”

“No. Gemma’s already filled my voice mail, and I have a million text messages I can’t bring myself to read.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you just talk to her?”

Callie shook her head. “Thanks to Marion, I’m on the hook for a new piece for the prime minister of Canada’s wife’s birthday.”

Nate raised his brow. “No kidding.”

“Plus, I owe Marion another exhibition and I have nothing ready for it.” She closed her eyes as the sense of panic came rushing back.

“I thought you were on vacation.”

“That word doesn’t really compute with agents and their assistants.” She sighed. “Although I didn’t exactly tell Marion I was leaving. I’d hinted at the idea of getting away a couple of times over the last few months. Then one day I rented the SUV, packed it up, and escaped. I called her after the fact.” She exhaled another deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”