Starcrossed by Suzanne Carroll Page A

but as Georgia studied him, she could still see the boy with the guitar.  He smiled a weary smile and came forward to kiss her; a soft peck on the lips, and a gentle nudge of her cheek with his nose.  “Hi,” he whispered.  “So good to be home.”
    “Good to have you home,” she said, then realised he was holding something behind his back.  “What have you got there?”  She thought of the lollipop bouquet.
    “Dinner,” he said, and held out the plastic carrier bag full of take-away containers.  “Sorry I’m late.  Has that been going on all afternoon?”  He nodded towards the ceiling and the sounds of a Rolling Stones medley he’d taught them.  “They’re sounding good.”
    “Just started,” Georgia said, taking the plastic bag from her husband.  “I was going to tell them to turn it down a little bit.  Why do you still have your other hand behind your back?”  She tried to see, but Tom backed away slightly.
    “Nothing,” he said.  “How was your day?”
    “Awful.”
    “Oh?”
    She waved away his query.  “Just some last minute changes to a plan, and a short deadline to do it in, but it’ll be okay.”
    “Let me guess, another ‘invisible’ kitchen hidden behind stainless steel wall panels?”
    “Pretty close.”  Georgia sighed.  “They saw one on television last week.  I swear all these home renovation shows have something to answer for.”
    Tom laughed and Georgia’s frustration gave way to a smile.  She glanced at his still-hidden hand.  “You do have something there.  What is it?  Tom?”
    The corner of his mouth twitched, and then his face erupted in a brilliant grin, the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his deep blue eyes.  “There might be something,” he said, and brought his hand out from behind his back.  “These are for you.”  He held out a box of paints, and a roll of artists brushes.  “I saw it in your face last night,” he went on.  “When you talked about that art exhibition, you were so…”  He paused.  “ Beautiful.   You need to paint again, it’s been too long, and before you say you don’t have time, we’ll make time.  So I’ve been thinking, we can convert the garage into a studio…”
    Georgia could barely take in what Tom was saying.  She simply stared at the gift in his outstretched hand while her heart danced in her chest.  As the meaning of his words sunk in, she lifted her eyes.  “This is why you were late?  Why you rang the home phone instead of my mobile?”
    “I wanted it to be a surprise.  I was going to make a bouquet out of them, but...”
    “I don’t need a bouquet,” Georgia whispered.
    “I don’t know if they’re the right sort of brushes…”
    “They’re perfect.  The thought behind them is perfect.”  Georgia set down the bag of take-away and wrapped her arms around her husband.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”
    He held her close, his arm curling around her back, pressing her against him.  “I’ll get your easel down from the attic after dinner.  On the weekend I’ll clear out the garage and I think we should take out the back wall and replace it with glass doors so it’ll give you a lot more light in there.  And we’ll install a skylight in the ceiling. We can line the walls properly too, and paint them white, right?” 
    “You could keep your guitars in there, and your violin,” Georgia murmured against his chest.  “It could be a music studio, too. I’ll paint while you compose.  Like we always planned.”
    Tom’s eyes were tender as he smiled down at her.  “It’s a long time since I’ve composed.”
    “Doesn’t mean you can’t start again.”
    Tom pressed a gentle kiss to Georgia’s forehead.  “True,” he said  “We could maybe do that.  It’s not quite the dream we had in mind, but it’s something.”  He ran his hand slowly over the small of her back, something that usually made Georgia shiver and sigh, but not this time.  Because