Page 47 of Shadow Secrets
“Iron Rose is wrecked. Even after Dom recovers, the parlor’s going to need a lot of work before it reopens. I plan to help him, but it could be weeks, if not months, without income.” She took another sip. “So I’ve been thinking about my website.”
“Your what?”
“I’ve been working on a website. A shop.” Her voice turned reflective, almost shy. “It’s been a dream of mine, I just haven’t committed to it the way I need to. I want to sell prints of my original work. The fantasy pieces—the dragons, the warrior women, the enchanted forests. There’s a market for that. I can offer illustration prints, art cards, and maybe even licensing for book covers or game art. I’ve seen artists with half my portfolio making a living online.”
She set down the mug. Her eyes were bright. “And if the shop generates enough income—if I can build a client base and a following—I could go back to school. Finish at Corcoran or somewhere closer. Like around here, where nobody knows my name.” She caught herself. Smiled—small, self-conscious, like she’d said too much. “It’s probably stupid.”
Everyone would know her name once word got out that she was with Sebastian. “It’s not stupid.”
“It’s a fantasy.”
“You’re so talented.” He thought of the stolen Vivi notebook, half-filled with her designs. “The lynx you drew for me is better than anything I’ve seen in a professional portfolio. The dragon from yesterday could be a book cover right now. The warrior women series?—”
“You’ve been looking through my notebook?”
“You left it open on the desk.”
“That’s not the same as an invitation to browse.”
“Threat assessment.”
She threw a sugar packet at him. He caught it without looking, which made her eyes narrow in a way that was half annoyed, half impressed.
“The point is,” she said, “I’ve been hiding behind the excuse that my art isn’t ready. That I’m not ready. But maybe that’s just fear wearing a disguise.” She toyed with the cup. “Penn used to say that the difference between an artist and a person who draws is that the artist ships. Puts it out there and lets people see it.”
“Smart man.”
Something passed between them—a recognition that he’d said that without the weight of what had happened. Just an honest acknowledgment that the man who’d said those words to his sister had been right.
No more regrets about the past.
“He was,” she said softly.
Sebastian poured himself a second cup and leaned against the counter. He watched her stare into the distance, thinking about Penn, her art, her future.
She was going to leave the compound and return to her life. Build a website, sell her art, and apply to schools. She was going to become the person she was supposed to be before Penn’s death had derailed everything.
He wanted that for her. Fiercely and without reservation. He wanted her to have every piece of the future she’d been denied.
He just didn’t fit inside it. They were both here in Montana for now, but if she went back to school…
Space was the thing he was afraid of. Space was where people reconsidered and the clarity of crisis faded into the ambiguity of ordinary life. Where a woman who’d fallen for her protector realized that the man behind the gun was just a man—quiet, emotionally stunted, still learning how to keep his hand open instead of clenched.
Stop. He was doing it again. The thing Vivi had warned him about—treating his feelings as threats instead of information. Running worst-case scenarios instead of trusting the data.
Unfortunately, the data now skewed toward her leaving here. Leaving me.
He picked up the sugar packet she’d thrown at him and returned it to the spot beside her mug.
She glanced at it, then at him, and the corner of her mouth curved. “You’re hovering, Lynx.”
“Protective detail.”
“Of my coffee?”
“It’s a high-value asset.”
She shook her head. The smile stayed. “I think there’s a higher value asset who needs her back washed.”
