Free Hometown Star by Joleen James Page A

Star alone with a room filled with the people and places that had filled Patsy’s life. Feeling a little haunted by her aunt, Star followed Brad out.
    “Come on, Brad,” she said. “I think you’ve done enough today. Put your paintings in the car and I’ll give you a lift home.”

Chapter Seven
    The guests were gone.
    Cade had a rare moment, a moment with no clients, no kids, no pressing work. He slung himself into the hammock positioned between the hemlock trees in the back yard, letting the canvas cradle his body. He released a contented sigh as the sun seeped into his bones. Around him, the air was still. The twins had gone into town with Trudy and Ron. Brad was over at Star’s place.
    He was alone.
    Blissfully alone.
    Cade closed his eyes. The buzz of a lone bee filled the silence and he concentrated on the hum. Man, this was living.
    He tried to focus, to keep his mind blank, but Star seeped into the peace like he knew she would, like she had since returning to Alaska. Star, his guilty pleasure. Her mouth. Her legs. That body. Cade imagined every inch of her, first with clothes on, then with her clothes off.
    In his imagination she was beautiful. The perfect woman.
    He could still taste the sweetness of her mouth; feel her lush curves pressed against him. He wanted her. Bad. So badly his body coiled tight with need for her to the point of physical pain. Then he remembered her rejection, but even that didn’t cool his raging hormones. He hadn’t expected her to trust him so quickly, to give in so easily. But a guy could wish. Never mind she didn’t want kids. What did it matter? She wouldn’t be sticking around anyway.
    The whir of a car’s engine broke through his thoughts. Cade groaned. He’d only been in the hammock for five minutes. He’d hoped for more alone time.
    The engine cut. Two car doors opened then closed.
    The front door of the house smacked shut.
    And still he didn’t move. How long before they discovered him?
    “Cade?” Star called.
    His eyes jerked open.
    She was here—his fantasy.
    “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she asked.
    Was it his imagination or was her tone a little frosty? He could see her now. A white T–shirt clung to her breasts. Her long legs were poured into form fitting jeans. She wore the yellow flip flops again, and he remembered how pretty her toes looked, topped with pink nail polish.
    His body went on red alert.
    “Can I talk to you?” she asked.
    “Sure.” Cade sat up, when he really wanted to invite her to climb into the hammock with him. Although, he was pretty sure she’d decline the invitation.
    “I need to ask you something.”
    Cade rolled out of the hammock and onto his feet. “Okay.” The serious look on her face cooled his libido. “Is it Brad? Did he do something?”
    “No. He’s great. He’s inside.”
    Cade motioned for Star to follow him to the two lawn chairs parked in the shade of the hemlocks. “Have a seat.”
    “Thanks.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” she said a bit too quickly. “When Brad and I were cleaning out Patsy’s place we found a bunch of her paintings. There are several of your late wife and your children. Brad asked if he could have them and I said yes. I hope that’s okay.”
    “I knew about the paintings,” Cade said. “I came home early once, and caught her painting Marissa and the kids.”
    “Why didn’t you just ask me for them?” Her forehead wrinkled.
    “I don’t need anything from Patsy Cooper.” The words popped out of his mouth before he could call them back. He prayed Star wouldn’t notice the malice that spewed out with them.
    “That’s a weird thing to say.”
    Cade glanced away from her, from the questions he could see in her eyes.
    “What’s going on?” she asked. “There’s a painting of your dad. When I told Brad to take it, he said you wouldn’t want it. Why?”
    His feelings for Patsy were twisted and complicated, many of them leftovers from a childhood filled with sorrow