Chapter Sixteen
“Thought the livestock dogs were supposed to keep wild animals off the property.” Bradley offered the words with no smile as he walked up on Kat, who had a large canvas on an easel facing away from him.
She turned her gaze to his, her gray eyes vacant for a moment. It took a few blinks before she seemed to realize who he was, before her mind switched over from her artwork to his presence. The way she could lose herself in her work had always impressed and frightened him. She poured so much of herself into it that there were plenty of times she’d fail to eat or drink.
Still, the passion always made him smile. Seeing her work like that, seeing her find herself again after Jerry, it was worth any number of times he had to go give her food or water.
“Was that a joke?” she asked.
“If that’s the only thing you can come up with to say back, clearly you’re more distracted than I thought.”
The corner of her pink lips curled into a smile. “You should just take advantage of the moment—it’s the only time you can outwit me.”
He let out a chuckle as he came closer, peering around to peek at what she was working on.
As soon as he did, she tried to object, but it was too late. Bradley was stunned for a moment, staring at the large canvas that had a partially done painting of his horse, Brat, on it. The colors were blocked in, but she was still adding the details of shadowing on the fur and the beautiful night sky covered in stars.
“It’s nothing,” she tried to say, grabbing the edges of the canvas as if to run away.
He caught her arm to still her. “It’s still wet, right? Don’t move it until it dries or you could ruin the work you’ve done.”
She gulped, a slight tremble in her arm where he held her. “It’s embarrassing. No one sees these.”
“It’s beautiful, Kat. Why hide this?”
“I don’t hide—”
He narrowed his eyes, not above using thatI’m your Dom and I expect an honest answerlook.
She blew out a slow breath, but the drooping of her shoulders signaled his win. “I do paintings like this for me—that’s it. The cartoon work sells.”
“But you clearly like this. You’re passionate about it. It’s really fucking good. Why hide them so much?”
She stared at her feet instead of the painting, as if even the sight hurt.
Which meant there was another method. Bradley had long ago learned that if one route didn’t lead to success, it was time to try another.
He nodded back at her chair. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Kat glared but his hand on her back to guide her over worked, and Kat sat down and picked up her paintbrush to work again.
Bradley grabbed another chair from beside the stables and took a seat beside her.
After a few strokes, Kat’s voice came out small. “I put myself through college, you know?”
“Waitressing—yeah, I know.”
“The thing is, my parents, they were more than wealthy enough to pay for me to go.”
He frowned. “Did they just believe in kids paying their own way?”
“No. It was more like…they felt putting me through art school was a waste of money. They thought if they helped me, it would only encourage me to make bad choices like that.”
An ache in his chest at her words—so full of pain—made him rub the spot. Kat was a bright light in a dull and dark world. The idea that her parents couldn’t recognize that broke his heart. It also explained a lot.
“You never talked about your parents.”
“What was there to say? I’m the screw-up kid. I’m the one who never does the right thing, who is always a problem for them.” She didn’t say that as if fishing, as if waiting for him to tell her how wonderful she was. Instead, she offered it with the same sort of simplicity as if she’d said she had gray eyes or blonde hair.