Read Online Up Close and Personal by Maureen Child - Free Book Online
Authors: Maureen Child
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public beach,” he reminded her in that same, low whisper before he stood up and moved around her chair to block her view of the ocean.
“It is,” she agreed. “And a big one. Why are you in my corner?”
“Because of you, Laura.”
“So we’re going to do the circle dance today anyway, are we?” she asked, hearing the snap in her tone and wincing at the sound of it. Way to look unaffected, Laura.
She wouldn’t look at him again. Wouldn’t meet his eyes. Because everything she was feeling would probably be written there for him to see. Ronan had always been too good at looking deeply. No doubt, exactly why he’d broken up with her in the first place.
He had seen that she was putting too much of herself into a relationship destined to end.
“Could you answer one thing for me?”
She risked another glance at him and felt her heart take a hard jolt. “Depends.”
“Could you tell me why you sell real estate when you can paint like that?”
She stopped, lowered the brush she held in her right hand and took a long look at the nearly finished painting on her easel. It was good, she knew that. She had talent; every teacher she’d ever had had told her so. And she loved painting, though she didn’t have as much time for it as she’d like.
“I like eating,” she quipped and swept her brush across the painted sea. “Making a living from art isn’t easy and real estate pays better. Well, usually.”
“Seems a shame.”
She didn’t want his sympathy. “We do what we have to do, right?”
Seagulls wheeled and dipped in the sky, and the scent of coffee and sweet rolls drifted from a nearby diner. Laura took all of it in and none of it. Her eyes were focused on her painting, the rest of her was focused on Ronan. He slapped one hand against the metal railing, and she looked at him.
“We do,” he said, “which is why I’m here.”
“Ronan…”
His gaze was fixed on her. “You missed me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Liar.”
She frowned and lifted her gaze to his. Let him read what he would in her eyes, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that he was right.
“I thought of you,” he admitted and the Irish in his voice flavored every word. “Didn’t want to, but I did.”
A warm ball of satisfaction settled in the pit of her stomach, then slowly dissolved. “Didn’t want to?”
He shook his head. “No, not on this trip or before, on the six-week job with that—”
“Singer?” she provided.
He grimaced. “Supposedly.”
Laura smiled in spite of the still echoing twinge of knowing he hadn’t wanted to think about her. “I actually saw you on TV one night. An entertainment show was covering her concert in Massachusetts and I caught a glimpse of you in the background.” She didn’t tell him that she’d heard nothing of the story because she had been too busy watching him. “You looked…uncomfortable.”
“In pain is more like,” he admitted, slapping the railing again for emphasis. “Between the girl and her mother, it was a long job.”
She was glad to hear it. He’d broken up with her, then disappeared for six weeks. Helped to know that he was as miserable as she had been—even if for different reasons.
“Why did you go?” she asked. “Why take that job yourself?”
“It’s what I do.”
She shook her head and felt the wind slide through her hair, lifting it off her neck. “You told me yourself that you rarely take a guard job anymore. So why that one? To get away from me?”
After a moment’s pause, he nodded. “I thought it best.”
“To get over me.”
“To let you get over me .”
She laughed shortly. God, the man’s ego was amazing. “Well, how thoughtful.”
“I wasn’t being thoughtful,” he argued, the brogue in his voice thickening with irritation. “It was…necessary.”
“For you,” she said, picking up a new brush and dipping the edge of it into a splotch of white paint on her palette. When it was coated just
“It is,” she agreed. “And a big one. Why are you in my corner?”
“Because of you, Laura.”
“So we’re going to do the circle dance today anyway, are we?” she asked, hearing the snap in her tone and wincing at the sound of it. Way to look unaffected, Laura.
She wouldn’t look at him again. Wouldn’t meet his eyes. Because everything she was feeling would probably be written there for him to see. Ronan had always been too good at looking deeply. No doubt, exactly why he’d broken up with her in the first place.
He had seen that she was putting too much of herself into a relationship destined to end.
“Could you answer one thing for me?”
She risked another glance at him and felt her heart take a hard jolt. “Depends.”
“Could you tell me why you sell real estate when you can paint like that?”
She stopped, lowered the brush she held in her right hand and took a long look at the nearly finished painting on her easel. It was good, she knew that. She had talent; every teacher she’d ever had had told her so. And she loved painting, though she didn’t have as much time for it as she’d like.
“I like eating,” she quipped and swept her brush across the painted sea. “Making a living from art isn’t easy and real estate pays better. Well, usually.”
“Seems a shame.”
She didn’t want his sympathy. “We do what we have to do, right?”
Seagulls wheeled and dipped in the sky, and the scent of coffee and sweet rolls drifted from a nearby diner. Laura took all of it in and none of it. Her eyes were focused on her painting, the rest of her was focused on Ronan. He slapped one hand against the metal railing, and she looked at him.
“We do,” he said, “which is why I’m here.”
“Ronan…”
His gaze was fixed on her. “You missed me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Liar.”
She frowned and lifted her gaze to his. Let him read what he would in her eyes, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that he was right.
“I thought of you,” he admitted and the Irish in his voice flavored every word. “Didn’t want to, but I did.”
A warm ball of satisfaction settled in the pit of her stomach, then slowly dissolved. “Didn’t want to?”
He shook his head. “No, not on this trip or before, on the six-week job with that—”
“Singer?” she provided.
He grimaced. “Supposedly.”
Laura smiled in spite of the still echoing twinge of knowing he hadn’t wanted to think about her. “I actually saw you on TV one night. An entertainment show was covering her concert in Massachusetts and I caught a glimpse of you in the background.” She didn’t tell him that she’d heard nothing of the story because she had been too busy watching him. “You looked…uncomfortable.”
“In pain is more like,” he admitted, slapping the railing again for emphasis. “Between the girl and her mother, it was a long job.”
She was glad to hear it. He’d broken up with her, then disappeared for six weeks. Helped to know that he was as miserable as she had been—even if for different reasons.
“Why did you go?” she asked. “Why take that job yourself?”
“It’s what I do.”
She shook her head and felt the wind slide through her hair, lifting it off her neck. “You told me yourself that you rarely take a guard job anymore. So why that one? To get away from me?”
After a moment’s pause, he nodded. “I thought it best.”
“To get over me.”
“To let you get over me .”
She laughed shortly. God, the man’s ego was amazing. “Well, how thoughtful.”
“I wasn’t being thoughtful,” he argued, the brogue in his voice thickening with irritation. “It was…necessary.”
“For you,” she said, picking up a new brush and dipping the edge of it into a splotch of white paint on her palette. When it was coated just
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