Sweet Home Louisiana by Erin Nicholas

Author:Erin Nicholas [Nicholas, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EN Fiction, Inc.

Unbelievable.

Two nights later, Maddie stared at the blank canvas in front of her.

Blank.

Still.

Again.

What the hell was happening?

She sighed and tossed her brush onto the counter next to her.

Cora had been great with Maddie setting up her painting stuff in the third bedroom on the second floor of the house. During the day the light was perfect. Of course, Maddie was at Boys of the Bayou during the day. Still, she should be able to at least sketch at this time of night. Or start something. Swipe at least one stripe of paint across the canvas.

But no.

She was feeling feelings. Lots of them. Mixed-up ones. Lust, and longing, and confusion, and irritation—mostly at herself, but also at Owen for keeping his pants zipped up the other day—and confusion, and worry, and confusion.

She should be able to paint. These were the things that fueled her. Being in the very midst of Autre and all the memories and emotions that she’d poured into her paintings over the past few years should have yielded some of her best work.

That wasn’t happening.

Maddie pushed her hair back out of her face as she regarded the canvas with a feeling of betrayal. “Fine. I guess I’ll go talk to people then instead.”

She’d seen a therapist for a few years after moving to California. She’d lost her mom tragically and her dad was in prison. Yeah, she’d needed therapy. But she hadn’t needed someone to tell her that she painted as a way to express emotions she didn’t have another way to express.

She didn’t have anyone she could talk to in California. Not at first, anyway. And come to think of it, she didn’t really have any close friends in San Francisco even now. Work acquaintances were about it. A couple of women she knew from college. But no one she’d spill her guts to.

So she painted. Got it all out that way.

Here…well, she had people to talk to. Did her subconscious know that? Was that why she couldn’t produce anything?

Well, great. If she couldn’t create here, that was just another reason she couldn’t stay.

She twisted her hair up into a messy bun and pulled a thin knit top over her tank. She checked her legs and the baggy white shorts she wore for paint. But how would they have gotten paint on them? It wasn’t like she’d actually been painting.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she headed downstairs and out the door, then turned left to walk the block to Ellie’s. She hadn’t spent a lot of time there in the evenings. She’d been going back to her grandma’s house after the tours were done. They did do an evening tour three times a week, but she and Kennedy took turns being there for that. Maddie had used the time at Cora’s to catch up on work in California—the two-hour time difference helped there—and to just have some time alone. She wasn’t used to being with people all day long. The gallery was quiet and when she did have customers come in, it was one or two at a time.

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