“What kind of maybe job?”
“A picture book about caterpillars turning into butterflies. They want some samples from me first.”
“I wanna see.”
I could just text him a picture, but I found myself saying, “Then come over and see.”
“K.”
If Dean still worried about being an annoying bother to me, then it was time to clear that up, starting with me being the one asking to spend time with him. Things were still sorting out between us, and one phone call wouldn’t be enough to settle our friendship into territory that was comfortable for both of us.
That was the only reason I’d invited him over. Well, that, and I liked the thought of having him all to myself. Tonight had been weird. For a lot of reasons. I set aside my tablet before I could get sucked into illustrating and forget about the time. I picked up all the toys Piper had left around the living room and then went to brush my teeth and put on a little bit of makeup. I’d removed the dramatic stuff from tonight, but he didn’t need to see me fresh-faced.
Chapter 22 – Dean
Grace let me in and locked the door behind me before she headed straight to the couch and sat down, curling her legs under her. I followed and sat down close enough that she could show me whatever she had on the tablet perched on the arm of the couch. I really did want to see her illustration work, although if she’d asked me over to scrub floors with her or learn how to crochet doilies in thirty-three easy steps, I would have been all over that, too. This had to be an improvement—not standing at the door first trying to figure out how talking worked.
“Who watched Piper tonight?” I asked.
“My dad and Jill. They took her to dinner and a movie. She fell asleep on the drive home, but she woke up just long enough to hug me and tell me she needed to brush her teeth because she ate so much candy her sweet tooth hurt.”
“She says the funniest things.”
“I know. I love it.”
I was getting distracted by Grace’s hair. She’d taken it out of the braided crown. It was wavy and full around her head, and whatever product she’d put in it smelled like almond extractand honey butter. I wanted to put my nose in her hair and investigate further. And my hands. I definitely wanted my hands in her hair.
“My hair is super crazy right now.” She touched it self-consciously, having noticed me staring at it.
I said nothing, because my thoughts were not in any way shareable, and that led to a drawn-out silence between us, and it was every bit as awkward as the last time I came over.
“I like your hair,” I finally managed to get out. Her matching top and bottom pajamas were cute, too, but I decided not to comment on them in case it prompted her to leave the couch and go change. “So, um. Can I see these butterflies you designed?”
“Oh, sure.” She pulled the tablet onto her lap and woke it up. “I’m not sure what style of illustration they’re hoping for, so I created a couple different designs. This one is in the photorealism style.” She opened a file and showed me a butterfly so lifelike, it looked like it was about to fly off the screen. The colors and textures were amazing. She showed me another illustration of a fuzzy caterpillar that had me reaching out to touch it.
“They’re poisonous,” she said, almost in warning.
“Through the screen?”
“No.” she laughed, looking thoroughly embarrassed. “Sorry, it’s just on my mind because when I researched caterpillars for this, there were about a thousand warnings about caterpillar stings, and how the poison comes out through their hair. Did you ever pick them up and let them crawl across your arm as a kid? I must have gotten lucky.”
“Maybe we don’t have venomous ones around here.”
“I looked that up, too. The wooly bear ones are harmless.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she gave me a playful shove. “You’re making fun of me with your eyes.”
“I am not. I’m just glad I’m not the only one who goes down a rabbit hole of weird Google topics. Don’t ask me what Iknow about the history of McDonalds and disposable food containers and their insulation properties.”
“I don’t have to ask, because I’ve been down that rabbit hole.”
I put my hands to my heart. “I’ve never been so attracted to you.”
That earned me another shove.
Down the hall, Piper called out in her sleep, but it turned into mumbling before she was quiet again.
Grace turned back to me. “So, um. The other illustrations I made are in watercolor and pen. Would you like to see them?”
“Of course.”
