One Week (Stolen Kiss #0.5) by Shana Norris

Author:Shana Norris [Norris, Shana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 27874026
Publisher: The Studio, a Paper Lantern Lit imprint
Published: 2016-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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After dinner, Aunt Lydia let me drive her car back from the restaurant, saying that I would become more familiar with the area if I spent some time driving through it. As we drove, she told me stories about the city and pointed out a few of her favorite places. I was happy to let her do all the talking while I focused on maneuvering the huge, rumbling vehicle. It was nothing like my tiny car.

“Stop at the end of the driveway and I’ll get the mail,” Aunt Lydia said as I turned carefully into her drive.

The car stopped with a groan and Aunt Lydia hopped out. She slammed the door shut behind her and then waved me on as she headed toward the mailbox. I eased the huge Land Rover forward into the carport next to the house. As I got out of the car, I noticed a huge pile of boxes on the front porch that I hadn’t seen before.

“I couldn’t find the size you wanted,” said a voice behind the boxes. “So I bought the closest I could get. Sorry.”

I stepped back from the porch as a girl popped up from behind the pile. Her overalls were paint-splattered and looked four sizes too big. She wore a fitted white T-shirt that had ridden up to reveal a stretch of brown skin of her lower back.

She looked at me, blowing a lock of dyed orange hair out of her eyes.

“You’re not Lydia,” she said, narrowing her brown eyes.

I shook my head. “No, sorry.”

“Where’s Lydia?”

I pointed back at the driveway, where Aunt Lydia was still at the mailbox, sorting through a stack of mail.

The girl brightened. “She’s actually checking her mail? This is progress.” She waved her arms wide and called out, “Lydia!”

“Hey, Ashton!” Aunt Lydia called back. She started up the driveway toward us, smiling brightly.

“I got the canvases, but not the size you wanted,” the girl, apparently named Ashton, called.

“What?” Aunt Lydia called back.

“I got the canvases!” The girl yelled louder, cupping her hands around her mouth. “But not the right size!”

“Bring them in and I’ll take a look!”

The girl blew her hair out of her eyes again and then looked at me. “Do you think you could help me carry these things to the studio?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

I wasn’t sure exactly where we were going. If Aunt Lydia had a studio in the house, I hadn’t yet seen it. Ashton had a key to the house and opened the lock, pushing the front door open.

“I’m Ashton McNeil, by the way,” the girl called over her shoulder.

“Hannah Cohen,” I told her.

“Lydia’s niece?” Ashton asked, raising her eyebrows. “She’s talked about you before, but she didn’t say you were coming.”

I couldn’t help feeling surprised that Aunt Lydia had mentioned me to this girl.

“It was kind of a last minute thing,” I said, shrugging. “I decided not to go to Paris, and to come to Asheville instead.”

Ashton snorted. “Oh, yeah, I decided not to go to Paris last week, too.

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