91Becca stepped into her jeans and pulled the light-blue turtleneck over her head. Then, she positioned herself in front of the dresser mirror. Her hair, still damp from the shower, would soon be converted into bouncy waves if she didn't grab a blow dryer and a curling iron. But she didn't care. She squinted at her reflection and just tucked her hair behind her ears. A quick brush of mascara was all the makeup she applied.
Noah appeared at the inn ten minutes early and found Becca waiting for him at a table inside. She sipped beer from a bottle and was in a discussion with Walt. “I think you could be a painter,” she said. “I've seen your drawings. It's not such a big leap.”
Walt shook his head. “I'm much more inspired by big chunks of burning metal. Your paintings are so…” He searched fo
