Dare to Love (Maxwell #3)

Carefully, Peyton and I each grabbed a tray of glasses and made our way out. The gallery had a warm atmosphere with just the right amount of lighting showcasing the art pieces displayed around the room either on stands or hanging on the walls. A soft hum of chatter filled the room. People dressed in elegant evening wear mingled around the geometric paintings, landscape portraits, and photographs of people of all shapes and sizes. If this was a showing for Mr. Brewer’s work and that of his students, I was impressed with the perfection of some of the pieces.

I served, moving from one group or couple to another. I worked one side of the room while Peyton worked the other. My pulse jumped every time I offered someone a drink. I was nervous about the possibility of bumping into Kelton. I was also apprehensive about confronting Mr. Brewer. I’d told him I’d left class early because I had to pick up my cat from the vet before they closed. He’d arched an eyebrow but hadn’t questioned me. He’d asked for my sketchpad before I left, but I’d ripped up the drawing of Kelton so fast Mr. Brewer didn’t have time to stop me. It wasn’t a good way to start my first day, but I’d panicked. So I thought about a cat, her name, her breed, and what was wrong with her. Guilt rode me since I didn’t own a cat, although I imagined petting Kelton as he posed on that stage in art class. Though nothing about him resembled a cat or the silky coat of one. Heat shot through my belly as I pictured my fingers running along every hard angle and ridge along his abs, biceps, and thighs.

A dainty voice severed my porn moment. “Miss.” A green-eyed brunette met me eye-to-eye. “Do you know where the ladies’ room is?” she asked, fingering the polar bear charm hanging around her neck.

“I’m sorry, I don’t. But you can try the hallway.” I turned to point behind me, and my tray of glasses wobbled.

“Thank you.” She dashed into the crowd.

I watched her for a second before a lump formed in my throat. The brunette stopped to chat with none other than Kelton. The lump seemed to grow as I tried to swallow. At any second, I was afraid I was going to choke.

Peyton came up beside me. “You should lower your finger. It’s rude to point.” She giggled. “I see Kelton has the same effect on you as he does on the rest of us women.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“He’s delicious in his tux, isn’t he?” She cooed as if she was about to have an orgasm. “I wonder where his girlfriend is?”

As though cold water had been poured over my head, I snapped out of my trance. “Is that his girlfriend?” I asked.

A guest came up to us to exchange an empty glass for a red wine.

“No. That was Kelton’s potential sister-in-law. Lacey Robinson is dating his older brother, Kade. She’s a big deal in this part of the country. She’s been in all the newspapers for her outstanding pitching for Colby College. I have to say she’s good at the game. Girls around here revere her. But she’s also the cousin to Kelton’s girlfriend, Chloe Pitt.”

Suddenly, my heart sank. Kelton was getting married, he still had a tight-knit family, and I had nothing. Two years ago, my parents had died in a boating accident, reducing the only family I could boast about to an aunt on my father’s side and an uncle on my mother’s. I didn’t consider either of them close family. I shook off the self-pity. I wasn’t in town to reminisce, get married or start a family, or even feel sorry for myself. I was there to get what was mine, no matter what I had to do to accomplish that.

Lacey had her hands on her hips as she peered up at Kelton, who was shaking his head.

“We should get back to work before my mom starts ranting,” Peyton said. “Come on. Let’s refill our trays. I’m sure it’s time for the finger foods.”

I kept my head down as I passed Kelton and Lacey. With my hand on the door to the kitchen, his smooth, deep voice caused my limbs to lock.

“Emma,” Kelton called.

“You know him?” Peyton stopped short, almost losing her tray of empty glasses.

Yes. “No.” I pushed in the door and deposited my tray on the counter.

“What do you mean, no?” Peyton gently placed her tray beside mine. “He seems to know you.” She scurried back to the door to peek out.

Please don’t let him recognize me or come in here. Otherwise I might throw myself at him before I run.

“You’re sweating,” Wendy pulled out a tray of quiches. “Everything all right?”

“Emma is being chased by one of Boston’s most eligible playboys,” Peyton teased. “You’re clear,” she said to me. “Kelton is talking to Trudy Davenport.”

I remembered that name from art class. Mr. Brewer had to keep telling the redhead to quiet down. I’d wanted to stick a sock in her mouth.

“Is Kelton’s girlfriend with him?” Wendy asked. “I need to talk to her. She called to ask if we could cater her graduation party.”

S.B. Alexander's books