Searching for Harmony (Boston Love 1)

Throwing my head back, I laughed and gave him a push. It felt good to laugh. The guilt slowly crept in, but I quickly pushed it aside. I’d give myself one day. That’s all I needed.

Peeking over at Preston, I took his features in. He was tall, probably about six feet. He was for sure taller than Trey. Preston’s brown hair was messy, like he washed it and just ran his hands through it and let it dry that way. It was sexy as hell and worked very well for him. His eyes were a light green and they held so many emotions. I’d found myself lying in bed this morning thinking about those eyes.

Preston reached down and took my hand. A small part of me wanted to let the butterflies in my stomach take off in flight, but I pushed the feeling away. As we walked, Preston turned down Huntington Avenue and walked into the Westin Hotel.

Coming to a dead stop in the lobby, I dropped Preston’s hand. “What are we doing in a hotel, Preston?” My heart was beating at a crazy pace and I was shocked by the confusing emotions running through my head. For one brief moment, I was hoping Preston had brought me here to make love to me.

Where in the hell did that thought come from? Jesus, Harmony. Stow away the hormones.

Preston looked at me with his head slightly tilted. Taking a step closer, he leaned in close to me as my chest heaved up and down. “Why, Harmony, you don’t think I brought you to a hotel to have sex with you, do you?”

Letting out a nervous chuckle, I shook my head. “Of course not.” My betraying voice cracked.

Then it happened. Preston smiled the most gorgeous smile ever and I knew I was going to have to fight like hell to keep my betraying feelings down.

“?’Cause if I wanted to make love to you, I sure as hell would give you more than a mid-morning roll in the sack at a local hotel.”

Swallowing hard, I gave him a smile and forced my eyes to roll, even though my mind was racing with what Preston would do if he wanted to make love to me.

“Okay, so what are we doing here?” I asked, trying to sound normal. Like the way he just spoke to me didn’t have my insides completely melting.

Reaching for my hand again, Preston led me to the elevator. “I want to show you something.” Hitting the button marked for meeting rooms, the elevator took us up the short distance.

When the door opened, I couldn’t help but notice Preston’s smile. He was giddy about something, and that made me smile. The feeling was foreign but nice. As we approached the America Ballroom, I saw the display sign but couldn’t read it. Preston walked too quickly and kept the sign blocked.

Walking through the door, I let out a gasp. The room was filled with paintings. Not just any paintings, but Geoffrey Chatten paintings. “Preston,” I whispered as I walked farther into the room. The first thing that popped into my head was that I was walking around an art exhibit dressed in New York Yankees stuff. Then I noticed we were the only people in the room.

Spinning around, I let out a giggle. “Chatten is one of my favorite painters.” Glancing over at Preston, my smile faded. “How did you know?”

His face beamed with pride as he looked around. “Jake mentioned it to me a while back. One of my best friends is a manager here and he happened to mention the art show and I called in a favor. Asked him if we could preview it before it opened to the public.”

I didn’t know what to say. No one had ever done anything like that for me before. My lower lip trembled and Preston’s smile faded. “Harmony? If you want to leave we can, I just thought—”

Lifting up my hand to stop him from talking, I shook my head. “No! This is just so…amazing. I didn’t even know that Jake knew Chatten was a favorite of mine.”

Smiling, Preston took my hand and I had to fight double time now to keep the feelings away. “Do you have any of his paintings?”

I whispered, “I have one. My mother brought it back from the UK on one of their trips abroad. I fell in love with his Impressionist painting right away.”

“Impressionist painting, what does that mean?” Preston asked.

“It’s a style where the artist captures the object like someone is catching a glimpse of it. They are usually landscapes and the artist will use bright, vibrant colors.”

Nodding, Preston walked up to a painting. “I like the seascape paintings.”

My stomach fluttered deeply in my belly. “Me too. They are my favorites. I think it’s because the ocean is my favorite place to be. Being near the sea allows me to think better. Clears my mind.” My voice drifted off as I gazed at one of the paintings.

Preston walked off and looked at the paintings. “I like this one, too. I love the color blue.”

Turning, I made my way over to the painting. Iris in Blue Vase was the title. The colors were amazing as I stood and looked at all the details. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Yeah, it really is,” Preston said as he stood next to me. Sneaking a look at him, I smiled when I saw how the painting had him captivated.

We spent the next hour walking from piece to piece, and then Preston’s friend came in to see how we were enjoying the artwork. While Preston chatted with his friend, I made arrangements to buy two paintings. They were expensive, but I could afford it. My mother and father’s way of reaching out to me after Trey and TJ died was to send me a large sum of money. Little did they know I knew it had come from my grandparents. Jake had inherited his when he turned twenty-one, and I was to inherit mine at twenty-one as well. Of course, my parents made it look like it was from them and they had made special arrangements for me to get it early.

Preston walked up to me and placed his hand on the small of my back as he spoke.

Ignore the pull in your stomach, Harmony. It means nothing. You’re just lonely.