Read Online Always Mine (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 1) by Ruth Cardello - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruth Cardello
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had created it, and what it represented, gave the experience an emotional depth he wasn’t comfortable with.
Emily studied his face for a long moment then said, “Close your eyes.”
Asher didn’t like that she seemed aware of his level of discomfort. “How many paintings did your mother create?” he asked to distract her.
Emily took one of his hands beneath hers and placed it on one of the paintings. She moved his hand back and forth over the texture of the paint. “Focus on this one. You won’t understand what she did unless you let yourself experience it.”
Reluctantly, Asher closed his eyes. At first all he could think about was Emily’s touch, her nearness, how much just being next to her made him want her. With his eyes closed, he was more aware of how close she stood beside him, the sweet smell of her shampoo.
“What do you feel?” she asked.
Asher held back his first answer and attempted to concentrate on the painting. The painting was layered with many different lines and textures that at first made no sense to him. Slowly, though, an image began to take shape in his mind. Part of the painting was raised in a way that reminded him of sand. It brought back a memory of a lake his parents used to own a home on. The smooth circles of paint reminded him of the rocks he’d skip across the water. There were other details he couldn’t describe precisely, but they felt familiar to him. The more he ran his hand across the painting, the more vividly he could recall being on that beach until he could have sworn Emily’s mother had painted his memory. Even though he doubted he was correct, he asked, “Is it a sandy beach by a lake?”
Emily’s hand tightened on his. “There’s a pond behind our property that has a beach. We spent a lot of time there when I was young. My mother loved to hunt for the perfect rocks to throw in. She swore different shapes made different sounds. I could never hear the difference. I preferred flat, smooth rocks I could skip across the water. That memory comes alive for me when I touch that painting, and it’s an emotional experience for me.”
Asher opened his eyes and tore his hand from the painting. He wasn’t ready to admit it had done the same for him. “Interesting.”
Emily ran her hand over her mother’s work again. “My mother was gifted. She was able to capture the essence of what she’d never experienced visually and do it in a way that connected with everyone who touched her work. People need to feel what she was capable of. Not just visually impaired people. Everyone. She taught me that life is full of challenges, but it’s what we do with those challenges that can be truly beautiful.”
Asher cleared his throat. He hadn’t understood true beauty until that moment. As he looked down at Emily he saw purity and goodness, inside and out. It was a realization that made it difficult for him to reconcile how he felt about her museum with the reality of its fate.
At best the whole building could be relocated. Even though that option was expensive and complicated, seeing it had proven it was an option worth considering.
“Would you like to see my contributions?” Emily asked with a hopeful smile.
There was an innocence in her smile that gave him pause. She and I couldn’t be more different. It takes so little to make her smile, and I’m nearly impossible to please. A woman like that should be with someone less jaded than I am.
What am I doing here?
He nodded and followed her into an adjacent room that was filled with sculptures of animals and people. Some were recognizable copies of famous sculptures; some were not. Emily walked over to a bust of a woman. “This is my grandmother. It’s not my best work because it was one of my earlier ones. My grandmother died giving birth to my mother, but I used old photos to make this. My mother cried for a whole week after I gave this to her. She said they were happy tears. I knew then that I had found what I
Emily studied his face for a long moment then said, “Close your eyes.”
Asher didn’t like that she seemed aware of his level of discomfort. “How many paintings did your mother create?” he asked to distract her.
Emily took one of his hands beneath hers and placed it on one of the paintings. She moved his hand back and forth over the texture of the paint. “Focus on this one. You won’t understand what she did unless you let yourself experience it.”
Reluctantly, Asher closed his eyes. At first all he could think about was Emily’s touch, her nearness, how much just being next to her made him want her. With his eyes closed, he was more aware of how close she stood beside him, the sweet smell of her shampoo.
“What do you feel?” she asked.
Asher held back his first answer and attempted to concentrate on the painting. The painting was layered with many different lines and textures that at first made no sense to him. Slowly, though, an image began to take shape in his mind. Part of the painting was raised in a way that reminded him of sand. It brought back a memory of a lake his parents used to own a home on. The smooth circles of paint reminded him of the rocks he’d skip across the water. There were other details he couldn’t describe precisely, but they felt familiar to him. The more he ran his hand across the painting, the more vividly he could recall being on that beach until he could have sworn Emily’s mother had painted his memory. Even though he doubted he was correct, he asked, “Is it a sandy beach by a lake?”
Emily’s hand tightened on his. “There’s a pond behind our property that has a beach. We spent a lot of time there when I was young. My mother loved to hunt for the perfect rocks to throw in. She swore different shapes made different sounds. I could never hear the difference. I preferred flat, smooth rocks I could skip across the water. That memory comes alive for me when I touch that painting, and it’s an emotional experience for me.”
Asher opened his eyes and tore his hand from the painting. He wasn’t ready to admit it had done the same for him. “Interesting.”
Emily ran her hand over her mother’s work again. “My mother was gifted. She was able to capture the essence of what she’d never experienced visually and do it in a way that connected with everyone who touched her work. People need to feel what she was capable of. Not just visually impaired people. Everyone. She taught me that life is full of challenges, but it’s what we do with those challenges that can be truly beautiful.”
Asher cleared his throat. He hadn’t understood true beauty until that moment. As he looked down at Emily he saw purity and goodness, inside and out. It was a realization that made it difficult for him to reconcile how he felt about her museum with the reality of its fate.
At best the whole building could be relocated. Even though that option was expensive and complicated, seeing it had proven it was an option worth considering.
“Would you like to see my contributions?” Emily asked with a hopeful smile.
There was an innocence in her smile that gave him pause. She and I couldn’t be more different. It takes so little to make her smile, and I’m nearly impossible to please. A woman like that should be with someone less jaded than I am.
What am I doing here?
He nodded and followed her into an adjacent room that was filled with sculptures of animals and people. Some were recognizable copies of famous sculptures; some were not. Emily walked over to a bust of a woman. “This is my grandmother. It’s not my best work because it was one of my earlier ones. My grandmother died giving birth to my mother, but I used old photos to make this. My mother cried for a whole week after I gave this to her. She said they were happy tears. I knew then that I had found what I
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