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here,” she said, standing.
    He rested his hands on her shoulders. He
still saw the sadness in her eyes, and more than anything, he wanted to banish
it, to make her forget about the man who’d never deserved her love. “Why don’t
we go back to my place for a nightcap?”
    She tried to pull away, but he held firm.
“I don’t think so. I have to work tomorrow and—”
    “Just one drink.” Spending a little time at
his home would be exactly what she needed to take her mind off her problems for
a while. “Come on, it’s still early, and you haven’t even given me a chance to
talk you into planning our anniversary party yet.”
    Her mouth twitched, but she tried to remain
serious. “I thought I told you I couldn’t fit that into my schedule.”
    “I know what you said.” He put his arm
around her as he led her out to the waiting limo. “But I should have warned
you, I can be persuasive when I want something.” He looked down at her face.
She was even more stunning than the image that had remained alive in his memory
for so many years.
    “Is that so?”
    “Give me a chance to prove it?”
    She looked torn between following her head
and her heart. Matt could only hope her heart would lead her in the same
direction as his. “Okay, but I can’t make any promises.”
    “I won’t ask for any.” He kissed the back
of her hand as Lawrence opened the door for them. “Yet.”
     
    ***
     
    Kristen gasped as she stepped over the
threshold of Matt’s bungalow. It was perfect. Not because it was big and
opulent, as she’d expected, but because it was the exact opposite. The house
was small and cozy, warm and welcoming, the last place she would expect a guy
like Matt to want to call home.
    The exterior was natural stone and
board-and-batten siding. It wasn’t too big or too small. The inside felt like a
sanctuary with caramel-colored walls, dark wood floors and trim, a stone
fireplace, and earth-tone furniture. She saw that most of the windows were
bare. Apparently the mature trees in the backyard provided all the privacy he
wanted or needed.
    “I love it,” she whispered. Her eyes
drifted to the dining room, where she spotted a large table and six chairs she
suspected were antique. That room had rust-colored velvet drapes, simple yet
elegant, with a walnut server highlighting a stunning painting Kristen couldn’t
take her eyes off of. It was a street scene in the autumn. She didn’t recognize
the street, but it could have been the main street in any small town across the
country.
    “Do you like it?” he asked, his eyes fixed
on the painting.
    “It’s beautiful.” Breathtaking was the word
that came to mind. The painting made her feel something, yearn for something
she’d never had and always wanted.
    “My mother painted it.”
    “Really?” Kristen moved into the room to
get a closer look. “It’s incredible.”
    “I have several of her pieces. I can show
them to you, if you’d like?”
    Kristen didn’t just want to see them; she
wanted to own one. She wanted to hang it in a prominent place in her office to
remind herself that places like that really did exist, and if she ever found
her way out from behind her desk, she just might be lucky enough to find such a
haven. As she got closer, she saw antique shops and a store housing seasonal
decorations, handmade clothing, and jewelry. “Does your mother sell her work in
a gallery?”
    Matt chuckled. “My father had to buy her a
gallery when they ran out of wall space in their house.”
    “Really?” Excitement coursed through her
when she realized she could own such a piece. If she couldn’t afford an
original, perhaps his mother sold prints in her gallery. “Do you have one of
her business cards? I’d love to visit her gallery.”
    “I should have.” Matt stepped into the
foyer, reached into an ornate wood desk, and pulled out a glossy postcard.
“Here’s a promo piece for an event she hosted last month. Her website, email,
and address are