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here. Those flames are beautiful. So, I don’t care how ‘girlie’ you think your sketches are, I wanna see ’em. If you’ll let me.”

When her head shook he struggled to keep his distance. He knew she would try to downplay her talent and it would piss him off when she did.

“There’s no intricacy—”

“Shut up, Stephanie.”

Her eyes bulged. “Excuse me?”

He grinned. “Don’t sit there saying your sketch, and you told me you sketched it for them, has no intricacy. It’s insulting to you, and to me, since I know what I see every time I walk by your bike.”

“Well, you don’t have to be rude about it.”

He shook his head. “Not being rude, baby. I’m being real. You’ve got talent, based on your bike. I want to see what else you’ve got, so get over your embarrassment or whatever keeps you from sharing. I’m not going to shame you in any way.”

She hung her head while letting out a heavy sigh. When she looked up at him she had a small smile on her face. “All right, Michael. I’ll get my latest book, once I finish eating.”

Chapter 13 Doesn't Belong Around Your Pretty Neck

Stephanie

THE LAST TIME I LET anyone look at my sketch book had to have been four years ago. A woman I worked with at a fast-food place caught me in the break room and I didn’t realize it until she’d gasped as I put the finishing touches on a sexy merman I’d drawn, based on a book I had been reading.

Showing my work to Har felt even more nerve-racking, not just because I gave a damn about his opinion but because he could draw. His body was close to mine as he sat on the other stool at the kitchen island. He put his hand down before I could turn a page and his finger traced the lines of a wolf there. His low hum told me he liked what he saw, and when I turned to him I knew he wondered if that wolf would work on a bike. My heart warmed seeing that look on his face, but when his eyes met mine my heart caught on fire.

“Wasting your time dealing cards, Stephanie.”

The fire in my heart grew hotter. I did a long blink and when I opened my eyes I focused on him hard. “What?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know what your mother did to you since you left here, but even if this is me speaking ill of the dead, she’s fucked with your head long enough. You’re wasting your time dealing cards because you need to spend more time creating this,” he tapped hard on my sketch book, “kind of beauty. There’s a market for it, believe me.”

My heart swelled with his words, but I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. “Whatever, Michael. I gotta pay bills, and my sketches don’t do that. But, I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

His hand cupped my cheek. “Honey, do you know where you’re living? Sketches like these will sell if you put them on canvas, or anything a hunter can hang on his wall.”

My brow furrowed while my lips pulled together. “My sketches are of wolves. Nobody around here appreciates a wolf.”

He wrapped his arm around me. “Baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Plenty of men around here with hunting dogs who think of those dogs as wolves. Or wish their dogs were wolves. Having lived here so long, I can tell you, those men will eat this shit up.”

I leaned into him. “Not in a sketch book they won’t, but I like that you think so highly of me.”

His green eyes shifted to earnest. “Then put your sketches on canvas, woman.” A lopsided grin bent his lips. “Better yet go with rugs, they’ll sell like crazy.”

I threw my head back with laughter. When I had it together, I leveled my eyes at him. “You’re crazy, do you know that?”

His eyes held mine and his expression was blank for a moment until he shrugged. “Not crazy, Combes. You need to look harder at your work.”

I leaned in to kiss his lips, but he took over. Our kiss only ended when one of my hands slid into his hair while the other cupped his crotch.

“What are you up to, Steph?” he asked against my lips.

I grinned. “I want another go before I have to go to work.”

CHARLIE CAUGHT SIGHT of me in the break room after I put my purse in my locker. His brows drew together. “Since fuckin’ when do we need scarves, Stephanie?”

I shook my head. “We don’t, but I get cold.”

One of his brows arched. “You need a better excuse than that, Miss Obvious.”

A sheepish grin spread on my face. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

“Don’t go callin’ me ‘sir,’ even if I’m old enough to be your father. What’s his name?”

“Whose?”

His chin dipped and he gave me a no-bullshit look.

“Michael.”

His eyes squinted just before he chuckled. “You mean, ‘Har,’ don’t ya?”

My eyes widened with surprise. “How did you know?”

He nodded once. “For one thing, my son and my nephew are part of that club, so I’ve done my homework. For another, no man goes out of his way to join a table with a bunch of tipsy bachelorettes unless he’s lookin’ to get lucky at something other than cards. But that man sat that table and kept his eyes on you.”

I wanted to argue because the vision of Har giving the redhead flirty eyes wasn’t easy to forget, but I let it go.

Charlie took a step away, but turned back. “Now, between you and me, I respect the hell out of Har, but you better guard yourself, Stephanie.”

I nodded. “I hear you, Charlie. Believe me, I’ve learned a thing or two about guarding myself.”

When I said hello to my boss, he gave me a strange look, but didn’t remark about the scarf.

My day was quiet and slow until dinnertime. Things picked up

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