It was the most amazing thing she’d ever done. One painting on an 18" x 24" canvas in just eight hours. After Callie had located Mr. Bradley, he’d taken her to a bedroom that had been turned into an art studio. It was obvious Wes had planned the room with her in mind. It was full of blank canvases on easels, fresh palettes, and an assortment of brushes and paints. Callie had chosen acrylics for this piece because it needed fewer layers of colors.
The oversized dress shirt she’d gotten accustomed to wearing was covered in smatters of paint. The rich scent that was uniquely Wes’s clung to the fabric and deepened her longing for him. It was a growing sense inside her that she hadn’t felt for anyone else, not even Fenn. The need to see Wes, to be near him, to belong to him was overpowering. E
