Against the Wall (Stoddard Art School Series Book 3) (5 page)

The sun was just swimming to the surface of the horizon. Kay continued down the short path and stepped out onto the beach. Brilliant golden pinks and lavenders swept the sky. The sea was at low tide, the waves tipped to match the sky. She sat to watch the sunrise and greet the day, or say farewell to the night, she couldn’t decide which.

She should be exhausted given the whole no-sleep thing, but she was still riding the high off yesterday’s good news. Be it Dottie’s magic pie, or just this place, to Kay it meant that she’d walked away from the bad into something that could be great. She’d done the right thing by coming here.

The sun blazed over the horizon. Kay closed her eyes and let the first light of day bathe her face. A familiar bark had her shading her eyes and welcoming Shadows exuberant greeting. Bear soon joined them.

“Morning.” He wore black running pants and a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed back to his elbows. His strong veined forearms and rugged hands made her wish she were a sculptor…or he was and she’d be the clay.

Dammit, he’s a client!

“Morning.” She ruffled Shadow under his jowls. “It’s a beautiful day.” She tipped her chin toward the bright disk of the sun.

“It sure is starting out nice.” He smiled. “We don’t usually have the pleasure of seeing you out here this early. Getting a head start?”

“No, more like a wind down. It was a long night. I’m not much for keeping normal hours.” Shadow sat next to her bumping her arm if she slowed her pats. “And you don’t keep promises.”

“Promises?”

“I’m not seeing a leash,” she teased. “You’re obviously not a good boy.”

Bear laughed and held out both hands palms-up. “That wasn’t an actual promise. That was a definite
what if
. There was no formal promise made, and hell, once we learned who you were, Shadow argued that there was really no need to negotiate any further.”

“I see.” Kay spoke to Shadow. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for big brown eyes and doggy breath.” She earned a wet kiss. She got to her feet, brushing off her behind. “I’ll let you get back to your run.”

“You should come with us sometime,” Bear suggested.

“I’m not much of a jogger. I’m a better swimmer, but I’ll wait until the water warms some.”

“Not me.” He stared back toward the waves. “The sea and I aren’t the best of friends.”

Kay frowned trying to make sense of what he said. “But you live on the point. You’re practically surrounded.”

Bear shrugged. “I didn’t say it wasn’t beautiful to look at. It’s perfect. But me
in
the water? Not so perfect. I sink like a stone. I’m an expert wader, though. When I first visited, I achieved knee depth. It was quite the accomplishment.”

Kay laughed. “So no skinny dipping for you. Got it.”

“No, not me. Out there? Hell no, not me. That water would freeze the balls off a brass monkey.” He looked back at her with a smirk. “But please, don’t let me stop you if you’d care to brave frostbite.”

Kay shook her head. “I only skinny dip in August when the water warms from frigid to brisk. Right now I’m going to go back, take a nice hot shower, and climb into my bed.”

Bear opened his mouth as if to say something then shut it again.

“I’ll need my rest if I’m going to be sharp at our meeting tomorrow.”

“Right.” He was quick to snag Shadow’s collar, so the dog wouldn’t follow her back to the cottage. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” He held her gaze for a second longer before continuing. His voice softened. “Sweet dreams, Kay.”

Chapter Five

Bear watched Kay move with a gentle step up the beach. Her hair was done in a loose, messy braid that swayed in time with her hips. Shadow pulled against his collar. “No, boy. We’re not invited up there.” Not yet, anyway.

Skinny dipping, hot shower, climbing into bed. His mind played out the whole scene in brilliant Technicolor. The dog looked up at him as if he’d read his mind. “What? Naked is a color. Come on, I’ll race ya home.” As soon as Bear said the words, the dog took off for the point like a bullet from a gun. The dog had a limited vocabulary, but bone, food, walk, and home were some of his favorite words.

A shower was in Bear’s future too, a cold one. Last night, he figured out what was so familiar about Kay Winston and her work, and it was messing with his mind. It certainly explained his instant attraction to her. Part of him wanted to go back and discuss fate with her. Either before or after the climbing into bed part. Both were bad ideas.

His feet pounded along the sand. Bear was used to the linebacker’s approach to life. Push ahead. Clear out any obstacles. Shoulder your way past. Beat down your opponent. In business it was a great strategy, but in a relationship it was a guaranteed disaster—just ask Diane, his ex.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being emotionally tackled every time I open my mouth! You suck at relationships, Bear. You can’t steamroll people. Face it, you’re better off single.”

Maybe she was right. He tried to control everything. Failure was not something he took lightly. His marriage ending was the biggest failure he’d faced since losing everything to one stupid move on the playing field.

Playing football for USC had been his dream. It had been his father’s dream, too, but Bear was used to the constant push from his father. He was a Marine. Retired, but Marines were always Marines, retired or not. It had been his father’s plan that Bear follow in his military footsteps, until Bear had shown skills on the gridiron.

He was on the fast track to pro. Scouts were approaching him, talking to his coach. How would he feel about moving to LA? Dallas? Cincinnati? Boston? He was getting good grades in his architectural classes. He had life by the balls.

The women…they fell on him like rain. Diane was a monsoon. She was a design major as well. Tall with legs that reached to her chin. A cheerleader, she’d wrap those strong legs around him and squeeze. In bed, she turned him from a fumbling ox into a well-oiled fuck machine. They screwed their way into being in love and figured that was all it took to make a marriage. He’d proposed to her at Christmas.

Then everything went to hell. They’d been playing their rivals, UCLA, the Bruins. Ironic that the Bruins crushed the Bear. Fourth quarter, USC was up by three. The clock was ticking down. UCLA was trying to position their man to go in for the field goal and tie it up. It was a brutal game. Bear made one tackle after another. He’d sacked the QB twice. He hurt all over, but he wouldn’t let off. They were after the championship. He was a rumored favorite for the upcoming draft. This was his game.

The ball snapped, he hurled himself toward the line. Connecting with one man, his body twisted and was in the wrong position when he took the hit from their defenseman. He heard his shoulder go. The excruciating pain brought him to the ground. A three hundred pound Bruin held him there. In a single second, everything was over. His career done. The dream gone.

He had to give Diane credit. She stuck with him. Through the surgeries. Through the physical therapy. Through the pain. Through the fear.

His father stood at his bedside and reminded him that fear was a coward’s excuse. A man faced his fears, whatever they were. If life knocked you on your ass, you came up swinging a fist. And so, Bear did.

He and Diane ran off and married. With her by his side, he figured he could make it through anything. He dove into his studies with a renewed passion. He was going to make it in this world one way or another.

Bear rushed them into business together. Coulter Designs quickly made a name for itself. He and Diane were fresh blood. Eager. Aggressive. Talented. They soon went from a two-person team to hiring on four full-time architects. Business was great. Diane was brilliant, but she was never fully satisfied.

Neither at the firm, or in bed, or anywhere else for that matter.

****

“Hey, Yogi!”

Bear chuckled. Walter always came through the back door of the inn sounding like Boo Boo from an old cartoon. “Yeah, Walt, I’m in here.” He was in the walk-in pantry at the back of the kitchen stacking supplies.

“Mawnin’.”

“Morning. Dottie throw you out already?” Bear flattened an empty cardboard box and added it to the growing stack.

“Na. Just makin’ the rounds.” Walter helped himself to coffee and a donut from the box on the counter. “Come over ta thank ya.”

“For what?”

Walt spoke around a mouth full of cinnamon cruller. “Hiring my girl.”

Bear shrugged. “She’s one hell of a girl. You weren’t kidding when you told me she was talented.”

“Don’t I know it. Came by the other night, just bustin’ with ideahs.”

“She’s due here later. Can’t wait to see them.” Bear wiped his hands and refilled his coffee. “So what’s her story?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“You know, where is she from? You two related? Family? Crazy aunt? A boyfriend? Husband? Maybe she raises boa constrictors for fun.” Bear shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. Stuff.”

“Do I look like some gossipin’ fishwife?” Walt narrowed his eyes and gave Bear a side glance. “Seems to me, you’re going the long way round Robin Hood’s barn to find out if she’s single.”

Bear snorted. “No.” He shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Walt shrugged and was silent until Bear broke. “Well, is she?”

“Seems to be.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means Dottie figured she was fixin’ to get married, and now she’s not.”

“What happened?”

“Hard tellin’, not knowin’.” Walt wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, set down his coffee, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why ya askin’?”

Bear busied himself with another carton. “Like to know the people who work for me.”

“Sure you do.” Walter jerked his chin toward the sound of hammers above him. “Brian and Skippy…either of them got a crazy aunt? Raise boas?” At Bear’s silence, he chuckled. “Well, don’t that beat all. You like her.”

“Knock it off. I was just making conversation.”

“Glad I’m wearing my boots. Starting to get mighty deep in he-ah.”

“Forget I asked.”

“Hey, no skin off my nose.” Walter held up one hand in surrender.

What possessed him to ask about Kay? Possibly the fact he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was due this afternoon at four. It was still hours away. How many times was he going to check the damn clock? Walter was playing this for all it was worth. He’d never hear the end of it.

Time to throw the stick in another direction. “So, what did you find out about the generator you were yammering about the other day?”

It took Bear hours to lose his overalled friend. He liked Walter, but some days when he was stretched to his limit, the man found great pleasure in jumping up and down on his last nerve. He was one of those guys who claimed to be an expert on whatever subject you were talking about. Always had an opinion even when you didn’t want to hear it. But, damn, he knew his way around a hammer and saw, and he was friends with everyone in town. A real asset when being a newcomer was akin to being invisible.

Bear lost track of the number of times he was looking for someone to run some electrical wires, hang sheetrock, or replumb a bathroom, and it had been Walter who’d suggested the perfect person for the job. That included the lovely, talented, distracting Kay Winston.

Kay arrived at four on the dot, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Shadow and I are becoming an item. If he keeps kissing me in public, he’s going to have to propose.”

Lucky damn dog.
“He likes blondes, what can I say.”

Kay’s hair was loose again. She wore a soft cambric shirt over a print skirt in a mix of earth tones. A wide, tooled leather belt accentuated her narrow waist. Her sleeves were turned back to her elbows and chunky wooden bracelets circled her wrist. She looked beautifully bohemian.

“It’s quiet. No saws today?”

“No such thing as nine to five on Fridays. I’m lucky if I can get anyone to stay past three o’clock.”

“Beating the weekend rush.”

“Getting anyone to work weekends? Forget about it. At least we won’t be interrupted.” His cell phone rang, and Bear shook his head. “Spoke too soon. Excuse me.” He checked caller ID.
Diane.
He’d already talked to her twice today. Hitting the ignore button, he shut off the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem.” Kay set her bag on the floor and unrolled the rubber band off the prints.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

“I hope you like it. After I left the other day, I had a bit of a brainstorm.” She pulled a stack of markup boards from her bag. “What do you think of turning the clock back? Celebrate the history of the inn?”

“I like it so far. Go on.”

“Well, I went to the library and did some research.” She showed him copies of old photographs. “These are all shots of Bell Harbor at the turn of the last century.” She handed him the sheet on top. “Here’s one of the inn the year it was completed.”

Taking two steps backward, she held up a finger. “This is what I’m thinking. Why not celebrate the era of when the inn was in its heyday. I could paint the scenes of Bell Harbor the way it used to be. All the key areas.” Kay moved around the lobby indicating placement of the beach scene, Main Street, the church. “Over on this side, the park with the band stand, etc.” She spun and gestured to the area to the right of the door. “Tall ships off the beach, and of course, the dock. Fisherman mending nets. Folks strolling in period dress. Buggies, horses, kids rolling hoops. Behind the check-in desk, a painting of the inn itself, but in its new colors.”

She crossed back to the table and laid the four idea boards in order. She pointed to the sketch of the inn. “I even put you and Shadow on the porch bench.” Retrieving a color board, she handed it to him. “I’m thinking faded brights. I know that doesn’t make sense, but given the floor tiles and your exterior paint, I suggest adding some bright undertones to some of the muted hues. A final sepia wash over the finished piece will imitate the aging patina. It will appear as if the mural were original to the lobby.”

Tucking hair behind an ear, she leaned in and pointed to the mock-ups. “If you look here, here, and here, I’ve done something a bit out of the norm, but I think it could work. It’s painting past the frame, so to speak. The lost balloon from the park is painted floating on the ceiling. These flowers in the garden spill over the baseboard. Tie the mural into the rest of the inn with a kite string heading up the stairwell. Things like that. It breaks the boundaries, and the effect brings the mural another dimensional layer.” She held out her hands. “Now, if you don’t like the idea of paint on the baseboards and the ceiling, I can lose it. These are just suggestions at this point.” She pulled two more sheets from her bag. “This is a list of supplies, costs, and finally my estimate.”