Beach Rental by Grace Greene Page A

nothing except to put them down again. Juli wasn’t in the mood to work a puzzle either. She needed to work off the negative energy from the early morning.
    She pulled out the sketchbook and pencils from a drawer in the entertainment center. “Don’t say no,” she said.
    “Oh—” he groaned.
    “You don’t have to do anything but sit. You wouldn’t want to stifle an artist, would you?”
    He leaned forward with his elbows on the table and stared out the window. Juli sat across from him and after a few false starts she buckled down and kept going. She lost track of time.
    “Can I see?”
    Pencil stopped, suspended over the sketchbook. “See?”
    “Yes, see .” He laughed. “You look surprised. What did you expect?”
    He rose and walked to where she was sitting. Juli held the sketchbook close to her, but not touching because she didn’t want to smear the graphite.
    “No, it’s not ready.”
    “Hand it over, lady.”
    “Yikes.” She tore the page from the spiral binding and gave it to him.
    Ben held the edges of the paper delicately to avoid marring the surface, as if the graphite markings and shadings were more than they were. Juli appreciated the care he was showing, but was also embarrassed by it. The seconds ticked by as he studied the rough portrait. She was about to yank it back when he shook his head sadly.
    “Is my nose really this big? And this ear—”
    She jumped up and moved toward him, but his sudden grin stopped her. He pulled the drawing away, safely out of reach.
    “I’m teasing. It’s wonderful. Makes me look…maybe intelligent, possibly verging on good looking?” He grinned broadly. “Can I have it?”
    “Oh, please. Give me a break. I’ve got a long way to go and a lot of practicing to do before I draw something worth keeping, if I ever do produce something worthwhile. There’s no need to say those things, not for my ego.”
    His soft brown eyes were suddenly earnest. “I am serious. Is it brilliant? Probably not, not yet, but you have a style that shows through. You’ll get better, true, but there’s often beauty in the untutored hand—a flair that can be lost if you learn to follow convention too closely.”
    “Flair? Style? Please.” She waived her hand dismissing his foolishness, yet inside she had a little glow. She didn’t totally get what he was saying, and wasn’t convinced he wasn’t mocking her, but that hadn’t seemed to be his style. She decided to take his words at face value, but with reserve, so she wouldn’t look like an idiot if he was having fun at her expense. “You can keep it if you promise not to show it to anyone else.”
    Ben walked over to where Juli sat. He took her hand and turned it over, palm side upward, displaying the dark smudges picked up from the paper while drawing.
    “The mark of an artist,” he said.
    He turned her hand again and lifted it to his lips and lightly kissed it. He released her and stepped away. She sat, stunned into silence, as he carried the drawing to his office and returned empty-handed.
    “Safely tucked away,” he said. “In case you change your mind.”
    She’d been thinking of doing exactly that before he kissed her hand. Instead, she said, “I’ll be able to do a better one for you soon, I hope.”
    ****
    On the first day of June, Juli found a card waiting for her on the breakfast table. An anniversary card. A first anniversary card.
    Humph. For the first month? It hadn’t occurred to her to get a card for Ben. It was only a month, after all. Despite their growing friendship, this was a business arrangement, wasn’t it?
    Someone knocked on the side door. Juli put the card down and went to answer it.
    The delivery man had an armful of red roses.
    “Ben,” she muttered under her breath.
    “Pardon, ma’am?”
    She signed for the delivery. “Thanks.”
    “Must be a special day.”
    “Must be.”
    She shut the door with her hip and set the vase of flowers on the table. Ben was standing at the foot of