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thousand reasons. “For starters, there’s your art. Those pictures you draw impact a lot of kids and parents. Those people are counting on you.”
    She squinted her eyes against the sun. “I guess I can see that. But I still don’t see why I have to go out and meet people. I can just stay in my cottage and draw.”
    “Yeah, that’s worked out real well the last several months, hasn’t it?”
    She shot him a dirty look and began to walk again. “That wasn’t nice.”
    He shrugged. “May not be nice, but it’s true. You’ve said you’re not happy with what you’ve created.”
    “I’m recovering from my husband’s death,” she said, nearly spitting the words at him.
    “You could spend your whole life recovering.”
    “I may just do that,” she retorted.
    He caught her by the arm. “You can’t cut yourself off like this. Rob didn’t want it.”
    “Well, Rob didn’t get what he wanted and I didn’t get what I wanted, either.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to feel anymore. I don’t want to feel sad. I don’t deserve to feel hap—” She broke off and opened her eyes.
    Brock’s heart clenched in his chest at the lost expression in her eyes. “You have to,” he said. “You’re gonna laugh. You’re gonna cry. You’re still alive, Callie. You may even love again.”
    She shook her head vigorously. “Even if I found someone, I wouldn’t want to. It just hurts too much to lose.”
    He nodded. “Well, you’re one up on me there. I haven’t lost anyone except my father. I never had anything special with a woman.”
    “Was that because of you or the women?”
    “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I scare all the good girls with hearts and attract the bad girls like mosquitoes.”
    A chuckle bubbled from her throat. A reluctantone, he thought, looking into her eyes. “Mosquitoes?” she echoed. “Bloodsuckers. Not the most flattering description of your past girlfriends.”
    “Girlfriend may be elevating the position.” He nodded and snagged her wrist. “C’mon, let’s keep walking.”
    “I’m starting to get the impression that I’m a how-to project for you.”
    “That’s not all bad,” he said lightly. “I’ve been commended for developing strategies that achieve goals.”
    “But what if your goal and mine are different?”
    “Then we’ll negotiate,” he lied.
    She looked at him skeptically. “You don’t strike me as a particularly flexible kind of guy.”
    “Maybe I’ll surprise you,” he said, determined to keep the exchange light. If she knew what he really had planned, his life just might be in danger.
    “You already have surprised me,” she said darkly.
    An impulse he couldn’t ignore bit at him and he whisked her up into his arms.
    She gasped, squirming in his arms. Her body felt soft and warm. “What are you doing?”
    He carried her swiftly to the ocean as she started to kick and scream so loudly the seagulls squawked and flew away. Despite her struggle, he couldn’t remember holding a woman who felt so sweet.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded.
    He kept walking and lowered both of them up to their shoulders into the cool water. She shriekedagain and shook her head at him. With all her huffing and puffing, her breath played over him like a little breeze. “Why did you do that? The water’s cold from the storm. I’m all wet.”
    “I am, too.”
    “So?” she said frowning.
    “Think of it as a demonstration,” he told her. “If my strategy gets you wet, I’ll get wet, too.”
    She opened her mouth and her jaw worked, but no sound came out. Her eyebrows knit together. “I think you may be insane,” she said.
    He knew he was insane. He wanted to run his hands over all her curves and secret places. He was burning with need. Just having her in his arms was incredible temptation. Yep, he was definitely insane.
    “I have no idea what your point is.”
    Sighing, he stood up and carried her from the ocean. “You’ll