Rough Sketch: A Talbott’s Cove Novel by Canterbary Kate

Author:Canterbary, Kate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vesper Press
Published: 2019-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Gus

Lightfastness: the pigment's chemical stability under extended exposure to light and therefore, measure of a work of art's value and life expectancy.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected, but the whiplash of owning every intimate part of Neera last night and then barely owning her attention this morning had left me bruised and reeling. My ego took most of the hits but my hopeful heart didn't get out unscathed.

At first, I'd resolved to back off. Give her some space. It crossed my mind to dodge this trip altogether but the truth was, I needed to get the hell out of Silicon Valley. If Lucifer himself was offering rides, I would've hopped in with him.

I'd done an adequate job of backing off this morning. As best I could, considering. I'd put distance between us during the ride to the airport, I'd ignored her adorable expressions as she'd responded to emails and text messages, I'd kept my hands to myself. I'd wanted to lick her neck and twist the barbell teasing me through her shirt, but I'd done neither. Not until she'd insisted I tell her about the residency. When she'd asked me to stop playing games.

I couldn't see how any of this was a game, but I gave her what she wanted. That was when I knew I wasn't backing off, wasn't giving her an inch of space. No, this woman had me and now she was damn well going to keep me.

We landed at a private airstrip that was little more than a paved road in the middle of a forest and Neera was quick to inform me this was one of her boss's many passion projects. Since I didn't know what that meant and couldn't imagine wanting to know, I shrugged it off.

When we climbed down the jet's stairs into the warm evening air, a battered SUV drove across the tarmac. "That's Cole," Neera said over her shoulder. "Owen's probably back at the house."

Leaving the lights on and the engine running, Cole stepped out of the SUV, arms wide in welcome. A dog poked its head out the front passenger side window and barked its greeting. Cole's shirt was on inside-out and he had smudged Sharpie scribbles all over his forearm.

I held out my hand but he backed toward the vehicle.

"Come on, we'll talk in the car," Cole urged, waving us toward the SUV. "My husband will flay me if we're not on time to supper and it's possible we're already late."

I liked Cole immediately.

After we'd settled into the backseat, Neera said, "Cole McClish, Gus Guillmand. Consider yourselves formally introduced." She gestured to the dog smiling at us from the front seat. "And that's Sasha."

"Thank you for having me," I called to Cole. I reached forward and scratched between the dog's ears.

"Careful," Cole warned. "She'll be your best friend if she knows you'll give her the kind of attention she wants."

I was only partially certain we were talking about the dog with the hot pink lobster-printed collar and not the woman to my left, the one who'd nearly decimated me with her all-business demeanor this morning.

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