the spare bedroom. Let me show you your room.” Clay led the way through the open, spacious living room, decorated in dark, masculine shades of red and brown. The leather couches and loveseat looked comfortable, as did the big, overstuffed rocker recliner in the corner by the fireplace. She would probably feel as small as a child sinking down into that thing.
Down a hallway he pointed out the bathroom and linen closet. “Unfortunately, we’ll be sharing a bathroom. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine with me. Just let me know if you ever have any overnight…um…you know.”
Clay gave her a confused smile. “What?”
Lily averted her eyes and cursed the heat she felt climbing up her throat to her cheeks. “You know. Any overnight guests. I don’t want to intrude on your…social life.”
Clay snorted. “Lily, I’m not dating anyone right now. Not really much of a social butterfly. My overnight dates usually involve the stereo and a big lump of wet clay.” He flicked on a light switch so she could see into the room he gestured to.
“Oh! Is this your sculpting studio?” The room was located in the corner of the house and had large windows on two walls. It would be the perfect place to work in the morning hours.
“Yeah, the lighting is great on this side of the house.”
“What’s this?” She lifted the edge on the muslin cloth tentatively. He removed the drape and revealed the lump of clay beneath it, which resembled the basic shape of a head and shoulders of a woman.
“Eventually it’ll be a life-size representation of the soon-to-be fiancée of some good friends of mine. Her name is Lydia Webster. If Chance and Clayton Carlisle have their way, her name is going to change to Carlisle, too.”
“Nuh-uh! Really?” The look on her face must’ve been priceless.
“Yeah, that’s one of those things about Divine that’s—”
She didn’t hear any more of what he said as her gaze landed on a piece of sketch paper on a nearby table. “What’s this?” she said, cutting him off as she lifted the drawing. It was an uncanny rendering of her about the time she’d moved away from Divine, but there was a trace of sadness that was hard to pinpoint.
Clay stuck his hands in his pockets as he approached where she stood in front of the window looking at the charcoal drawing. “It’s a drawing of you.”
“When did you do this?”
“The night of the accident.”
“Why?”
Clay looked down at the image, so his eyes were shuttered. “I was working on something else and I guess that just needed an outlet. I don’t remember you sad like that. I don’t know why I drew it that way. You slipped away from us years ago and memories of you came back to me. I didn’t know if you were just passing through or staying and I just…needed to draw you. You know how us flaky, artsy-fartsy types are,” he added with a shrug and a chuckle.
Lily scoffed and rolled her eyes. “When I look at you, Clay, the last thing I see is a flaky, artsy-fartsy type, trust me.”
“You can have it.”
“No, I want you to keep it. You’ve given me the statue and that’s enough. And I’m in Divine to stay, Clay.”
“Good enough. Maybe I’ll frame it. Lily, seriously, you don’t have to worry about women coming around. Grace Warner, a matchmaking friend of mine, gets peeved at me because I don’t date more, but between business and this.” He gestured to the clay form on a small wooden table. “I feel pretty fulfilled. Women just add unnecessary drama to my life.” He slammed his lips shut, frowned, and then added, “That did not come out the way I meant it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you, not at all. The last woman I dated was a bit of a drama queen. A spoiled little rich girl. The black rubber marks you probably saw on my driveway were her parting gift a few months ago.”
Lily patted his bicep, noting its firmness. “And now I’ve come along and added even more drama to your life. I know you didn’t
Down a hallway he pointed out the bathroom and linen closet. “Unfortunately, we’ll be sharing a bathroom. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine with me. Just let me know if you ever have any overnight…um…you know.”
Clay gave her a confused smile. “What?”
Lily averted her eyes and cursed the heat she felt climbing up her throat to her cheeks. “You know. Any overnight guests. I don’t want to intrude on your…social life.”
Clay snorted. “Lily, I’m not dating anyone right now. Not really much of a social butterfly. My overnight dates usually involve the stereo and a big lump of wet clay.” He flicked on a light switch so she could see into the room he gestured to.
“Oh! Is this your sculpting studio?” The room was located in the corner of the house and had large windows on two walls. It would be the perfect place to work in the morning hours.
“Yeah, the lighting is great on this side of the house.”
“What’s this?” She lifted the edge on the muslin cloth tentatively. He removed the drape and revealed the lump of clay beneath it, which resembled the basic shape of a head and shoulders of a woman.
“Eventually it’ll be a life-size representation of the soon-to-be fiancée of some good friends of mine. Her name is Lydia Webster. If Chance and Clayton Carlisle have their way, her name is going to change to Carlisle, too.”
“Nuh-uh! Really?” The look on her face must’ve been priceless.
“Yeah, that’s one of those things about Divine that’s—”
She didn’t hear any more of what he said as her gaze landed on a piece of sketch paper on a nearby table. “What’s this?” she said, cutting him off as she lifted the drawing. It was an uncanny rendering of her about the time she’d moved away from Divine, but there was a trace of sadness that was hard to pinpoint.
Clay stuck his hands in his pockets as he approached where she stood in front of the window looking at the charcoal drawing. “It’s a drawing of you.”
“When did you do this?”
“The night of the accident.”
“Why?”
Clay looked down at the image, so his eyes were shuttered. “I was working on something else and I guess that just needed an outlet. I don’t remember you sad like that. I don’t know why I drew it that way. You slipped away from us years ago and memories of you came back to me. I didn’t know if you were just passing through or staying and I just…needed to draw you. You know how us flaky, artsy-fartsy types are,” he added with a shrug and a chuckle.
Lily scoffed and rolled her eyes. “When I look at you, Clay, the last thing I see is a flaky, artsy-fartsy type, trust me.”
“You can have it.”
“No, I want you to keep it. You’ve given me the statue and that’s enough. And I’m in Divine to stay, Clay.”
“Good enough. Maybe I’ll frame it. Lily, seriously, you don’t have to worry about women coming around. Grace Warner, a matchmaking friend of mine, gets peeved at me because I don’t date more, but between business and this.” He gestured to the clay form on a small wooden table. “I feel pretty fulfilled. Women just add unnecessary drama to my life.” He slammed his lips shut, frowned, and then added, “That did not come out the way I meant it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you, not at all. The last woman I dated was a bit of a drama queen. A spoiled little rich girl. The black rubber marks you probably saw on my driveway were her parting gift a few months ago.”
Lily patted his bicep, noting its firmness. “And now I’ve come along and added even more drama to your life. I know you didn’t
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