No Love Allowed(43)

“It’s already ten.”

“Mmm . . .”

He shook his head and smiled. Then he spoke without thinking about the words, “Come on, da—” He stopped, shocked. He had been about to call her darling. It was what his father used to call his mother. Where the hell had the impulse come from? He swallowed as the rightness of the endearment spread through him. Fortunately her next words distracted him from himself.

“Want more sleep.”

“I know, but we’re shopping for art supplies today.” He took her hand and brought the inside of her wrist to his lips. After planting a kiss there, he moved to the center of her palm, then to each fingertip. Remnants of paint caked the sides of her nails. The girls he was used to were obsessive about keeping their nails clean and manicured. Not Didi. Her hands showed the evidence of her passion. She didn’t care who saw, and he appreciated her more because of it.

“That feels nice,” she hummed with a sigh. “But coffee is much better.”

Laughing, he planted a last kiss on the back of her hand and climbed out of the car. After looking both ways to check that the road was clear, he ran across the street to a café and ordered two coffees to go at the counter. Not knowing how Didi took hers, he filled his pockets with packets of cream and sugar.

Giving the waitress a smile, he left the café and carried the cups back to his car. Once in his seat, he set aside his cup and removed the sippy lid from Didi’s. Then he positioned it beneath her nose. As soon as she got a whiff of the life-giving brew, her eyes popped open and she sat up straighter.

“Thank you!” She relieved him of the cup with both hands and gulped down the hot liquid without worrying about burning her tongue.

“Black it is, then.” He removed the packets of cream and sugar from his pockets and placed them on the dash. He took one of each for himself and dumped the contents into his cup.

After two more gulps, Didi reached for two packets each of cream and sugar and poured them into her half-empty cup. His eyebrows shot up. She stirred three times, then guzzled the last of the coffee.

“It’s official,” he said against the rim of his cup before taking a sip.

“What?” She looked at him all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Apparently the caffeine had worked its magic.

“I like everything about you. Down to the way you start with black coffee, then end with two sugars and creams.” He smiled. “You, Diana ‘Didi’ Alexander, are the unexpected girl of my dreams.” He had meant to tease a blush out of her. Instead he received a scowl so pure it took him aback.

“Let’s be clear.” She pointed at herself. “I’m no one’s dream girl. Especially not yours.”

“Didi,” he breathed out.

“No! Don’t go saying it was just a joke. I see the teasing in your eyes. You’re leaving in a few weeks.”

“Hey, where is this coming from?” The lovely start to his day had officially ended.

“Remember, you were the one who insisted on the rules. I’m just following them. You’re leaving.”

Eyebrows pushing together, he set his cup aside again before the remainder of its contents spilled on him. “Yes, I’m leaving, Didi.” He looked her straight in the eye. “Nothing will change that.” She gasped. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he had caught a flash of hurt in her big brown eyes. He softened. “We’re here to grab art supplies. Can’t we enjoy that? Don’t you girls love shopping?”

Her sharp temper flared in her gaze. “Don’t patronize me, Caleb Parker.” She opened the door and stepped out, slamming it behind her.

Taken off guard by her irritation, he hurried out of the car and barely made it to the shop’s door to open it for her. She stifled a yawn with a hand as she entered.

He stepped in front of her, barring entrance to the rest of the shop, then closed his hands around her arms and felt her give in to him supporting some of her weight.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

She fell against him without actually returning the embrace. “I love the way you smell,” she whispered, inhaling deeply and rubbing her nose against his chest. “Like cool water and bath soap. Expensive bath soap. What cologne is that?”

As they stood in the middle of the store’s entrance where people passed them by, Caleb realized this girl in his arms was dangerous. She confused him. Excited him. Could break his heart one minute, then reassemble the pieces the next.

Tightening his hold around her, he kissed the top of her head, which smelled faintly of paint, and said, “Why don’t I take you home so you can rest? We can always come back tomorrow.”

She closed her fists into his shirt and looked up, panicked. “No. I need the supplies if I want to finish your—” She bit down, crushing her lips together.

“My what?” A grin pulled at his lips.

“I already said too much.” She pushed out of his arms and straightened. Suddenly her eyes lit up. In another moment of pure transformation, she no longer seemed tired.

“My what?” he insisted.

“Oh, look, they’re having an exhibit.” She pointed and Caleb turned his head toward a poster taped to the counter. A majority of it featured van Gogh’s The Starry Night. Besides his Sunflowers, it was easily the painting he was best known for. The rest of the poster featured information about the DoCo Museum of Art hosting several of his paintings. Didi used his moment of distraction to hurry deeper into the store.