Angie jumped into his head. How many times had Angie worried over his absence? No calls in years. He’d been good at saying goodbye, must’ve been , but then one goodbye could last a lifetime if one wanted things that way.
He’d promised her he ’d look after her, that he ’d never leave her after their mother had killed herself. He would always be there. He had failed —how h e had failed. And where did that leave Angie? How long had she waited for him? Did she still?
S he would.
A few drops of butter slid off the chicken and fell onto the burner, sizzling loudly, forcing Bastian to the present. He’d call Angie tonight and let her know he was all right. Satisfied for the moment dinner was underway, Bastian walked into the living room.
Kaylee stood near the bay window, eyeing the endless white drifts. She’d folded her arms across her chest and seemed to be lost in a world of her own. After a moment, he stole behind her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and nuzzled her neck.
“Hey, Beautiful.”
Closing her eyes, Kaylee leaned clos e and rubbed her cheek against his. “I smell something wonderful.”
“Now you say I can cook. Hours ago, you didn’t want me anywhere near your kitchen.” He reached down and laced his fingers between Kaylee’s.
“What do I know?”
“The snow is really coming down.”
Kaylee nodded. “Harder than before. Looks like you may be here awhile, Bastian.”
“Is this a problem?”
“No. Actually , I’d planned on sabotaging your truck , anyway.” She looked down at his hand.
Bastian laughed. “You don’t have to sabotage anything. It only works part- time as it is.”
“I should count myself lucky. If it did work, you’d have been gone by now.”
“Maybe. But I would’ve come back. I might not have known why or when, but I would have. I should check the food. ” Bastian stepped back to the kitchen and turned the chicken . Kaylee followed him into the kitchen, carrying the drawing he’d given her.
“If the weather permits,” she said, “I’d like to take you to my art studio tomorrow and give you a tour. Maybe then we could hammer out some details about the classes you’ll be teaching.”
Bastian set both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Kaylee, I love drawing. I love painting. But I’m not good enough to be a teacher.”
“ You’re more than good enough. All my life I’ve wanted to be able to do what you can, but I can’t. The closest I can come is to try to manage a studio I bought a couple of months ago and fill it with students ready to learn from the teacher I haven’t hired yet. I had planned to start interviews next week, but I’ve already found the perfect person for the job—you.” She put the drawing on the counter and rested her head against his arm
“Kaylee— ”
“At least think about it. Please . ” As he straightened , Kaylee darted in front of him, forcing him to look at her.
“I’m not teacher material. I-I don’t have the skills you’re looking for.”
“You’re stuttering.” She wrapped both arms around him.
“You could make a Boy Scout stutter and a priest swear, l ady.”
She pulled him close and kissed his neck. “Were you a Boy Scout?”
Bastian closed his eyes and reveled in her caress. “Yes, m a’am.” One hand stroked her hair.
Kaylee nipped his earlobe.
“Hey, you bit me. Did you draw blood? ” Bastian recoiled and touched his earlobe. He looked at his hand.
“No , ” Kaylee said, “Besides, you deserved it. You called me ma’am.”
“Yes, m a’am, I did.” He turned back to the grill. “And by the way, m a’am, I should check the chicken.”
Kaylee spotted a dish towel hanging on the stove handle and grabbed it . She twist ed and snapped it at Bastian’s rear. Despite the loud pop, Bastian calmly checked the meat.
“Didn’t that hurt?” she
He’d promised her he ’d look after her, that he ’d never leave her after their mother had killed herself. He would always be there. He had failed —how h e had failed. And where did that leave Angie? How long had she waited for him? Did she still?
S he would.
A few drops of butter slid off the chicken and fell onto the burner, sizzling loudly, forcing Bastian to the present. He’d call Angie tonight and let her know he was all right. Satisfied for the moment dinner was underway, Bastian walked into the living room.
Kaylee stood near the bay window, eyeing the endless white drifts. She’d folded her arms across her chest and seemed to be lost in a world of her own. After a moment, he stole behind her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and nuzzled her neck.
“Hey, Beautiful.”
Closing her eyes, Kaylee leaned clos e and rubbed her cheek against his. “I smell something wonderful.”
“Now you say I can cook. Hours ago, you didn’t want me anywhere near your kitchen.” He reached down and laced his fingers between Kaylee’s.
“What do I know?”
“The snow is really coming down.”
Kaylee nodded. “Harder than before. Looks like you may be here awhile, Bastian.”
“Is this a problem?”
“No. Actually , I’d planned on sabotaging your truck , anyway.” She looked down at his hand.
Bastian laughed. “You don’t have to sabotage anything. It only works part- time as it is.”
“I should count myself lucky. If it did work, you’d have been gone by now.”
“Maybe. But I would’ve come back. I might not have known why or when, but I would have. I should check the food. ” Bastian stepped back to the kitchen and turned the chicken . Kaylee followed him into the kitchen, carrying the drawing he’d given her.
“If the weather permits,” she said, “I’d like to take you to my art studio tomorrow and give you a tour. Maybe then we could hammer out some details about the classes you’ll be teaching.”
Bastian set both hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Kaylee, I love drawing. I love painting. But I’m not good enough to be a teacher.”
“ You’re more than good enough. All my life I’ve wanted to be able to do what you can, but I can’t. The closest I can come is to try to manage a studio I bought a couple of months ago and fill it with students ready to learn from the teacher I haven’t hired yet. I had planned to start interviews next week, but I’ve already found the perfect person for the job—you.” She put the drawing on the counter and rested her head against his arm
“Kaylee— ”
“At least think about it. Please . ” As he straightened , Kaylee darted in front of him, forcing him to look at her.
“I’m not teacher material. I-I don’t have the skills you’re looking for.”
“You’re stuttering.” She wrapped both arms around him.
“You could make a Boy Scout stutter and a priest swear, l ady.”
She pulled him close and kissed his neck. “Were you a Boy Scout?”
Bastian closed his eyes and reveled in her caress. “Yes, m a’am.” One hand stroked her hair.
Kaylee nipped his earlobe.
“Hey, you bit me. Did you draw blood? ” Bastian recoiled and touched his earlobe. He looked at his hand.
“No , ” Kaylee said, “Besides, you deserved it. You called me ma’am.”
“Yes, m a’am, I did.” He turned back to the grill. “And by the way, m a’am, I should check the chicken.”
Kaylee spotted a dish towel hanging on the stove handle and grabbed it . She twist ed and snapped it at Bastian’s rear. Despite the loud pop, Bastian calmly checked the meat.
“Didn’t that hurt?” she
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