Heart And Soul (Angel Sands 8)

“I was just being polite.” He smiled at her sassiness.

“There’s a first time for everything I guess.”

He had to bend down to open the gate. Everything in the bungalow had been adapted for Belle, including the keypads, door handles, and in this case – the gate latch. He punched in the code and it unlocked, before he walked into the backyard, fastening the gate behind him.

Belle was in her studio at the bottom of the yard, a paintbrush in her hand as she mixed colors on the wooden palate she held in the other. Her face lit up when she saw him.

She had paraplegia since an accident seventeen years ago, when Belle was twelve, and Rich nineteen. The same accident that had ended their parents’ lives. For the first ten years, she’d lived with their aunt, with regular visits from Rich. But after she turned twenty-one and inherited half their parents’ estate, she’d chosen to live alone in her specially adapted bungalow, with support from hired caregivers.

Her strength and optimism never failed to amaze him. And make him feel guilty, too. Because she was the one who paid the big price for their parents’ death. He was already grown up, and in his second year of college when they passed. She wasn’t even a teenager, and on top of losing her parents she had to learn how to live life without legs that worked.

“That’s looking good,” he said, pointing at her painting. Belle was in the final year of her art degree at community college. She’d been doing it part-time for a while now, and her talent shone through her work. This painting was of the ocean, but in a Belle Martin-style – waves tipped with glittering jewels, red-headed mermaids dancing among them. She liked to paint whimsically, and somehow it really worked.

“So how’s your week been?” he asked ten minutes later in Belle’s house. He’d made them both coffee, and they were sitting looking out at her yard. He always felt like a giant when he did anything in her kitchen, having to stoop down to reach the specially adapted work surfaces and appliances.

“It’s been good. We’re working on our final shows.” Belle smiled. “We can either have them at the college, or arrange them privately ourselves. I’ve put a call in to a couple of local galleries to see if they’d be interested. The lighting at the college isn’t always the best.”

“Have you heard back from them?”

>

“One of them.” She smiled. “And I’ll chase the other one down next week.”

His sister was never afraid to push herself forward. He loved that about her.

“How about you? Have you been working too hard again?” Belle asked him, taking a sip of her latte.

“It’s been busy,” he admitted. “And I didn’t get to return your call on Wednesday. I’m sorry.”

Her expression was soft. “You don’t need to be sorry. I was only calling to say hi. And you always come to see me. Stop beating yourself up. It makes your pretty face look weird.”

“My face isn’t pretty.” His frown deepened.

“Tell that to all my friends. Do you know how many of them keep asking for your number? I could get you a date for every night this year and they’d still be hassling me.”

Rich shook his head. “Your friends are too young for me.”

“You’re not exactly ancient,” Belle pointed out.

“I’m thirty-six. That’s pretty old.”

“Yep. And by now you should be settled down with my sister-in-law and a few nieces and nephews.”

“Sorry, kid. I don’t have time for that.” He put his coffee cup on the counter and stretched his arms out. His muscles felt tight from his swim earlier.

“Yes you do. You just don’t want to. Anyway, I was teasing you about having kids. I’ll have some of my own and then you won’t have to worry.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“No.” She started laughing. “Oh god, you look so big-brotherish right now. I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking. Though I did go on a date last night.”

“Who with?” Rich asked, his voice low.

“I’m not telling you.” Her smile widened. “Though I can tell you I’ll be seeing him again. That man was good.”

“Belle!”

“What? I’m in my sexual prime. And stop wrinkling your nose up like that. God knows I’ve had to hear about your sex life enough.”