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Harper carefully wrapped another canvas in brown paper. Finally, finally, after what seemed forever, spring was here, the sky was clearing from its perpetual gray and the humans were venturing into outdoor activities again.
As an artist who captured landscapes with her brush and paints, Harper always had a hard time staying put during the cold weather. Living on the Oregon Coast meant that she rarely saw snow, or sub zero temperatures, but the whole coastline seemed to lose its color and life during those few months. Brown and gray dominated the horizon and the bite of the ocean wind was enough to have anyone running for a cup of hot cocoa and the warmth of a crackling fire.
Her favorite time of year was filled with color and the opportunity to socialize with friends and customers in the outdoor art exhibits or open air markets found up and down the Pacific coastline. She loved chatting with the adults and children alike as they admired her work and asked questions about her technique.
Harper’s cheeks flooded with warmth as she considered the other reason she was looking forward to the warm season.
Mason Turley.
While his day job consisted of working in the lumber industry, during the warm months, he could often be found at Harper’s art festivals, doing live wood carvings. His skill with a chainsaw was awe inspiring, but Harper found herself staring at more than just the art.
Who could resist a man as tall and broad as a linebacker with the most mesmerizing golden eyes she had ever seen?
She shook her head. Apparently, she wasn't more immune than any of the other women who tried to swarm him at the festivals. The difference was that she couldn’t let herself melt like a fangirl. Handsome or not, Harper was still in the middle of building her professional life and trying to break into the art world took a lot of time and persistence. She simply didn’t have time for anything else. Not that her hormones were willing to listen to her logic.
She had known Mason for nearly five years, after she moved to the coast in order to make a career of her artistic talents. Her crush had come on slowly, though she’d thought him handsome from the beginning. A chat here...a laugh there...a moment when their eyes caught...his quiet willingness to help every person he came in contact with... Ugh!
The paper Harper was wrapping with tore at a corner and she grit her teeth to keep from saying a word her mother would definitely not approve of. She dropped the paper to the ground and began again, forcing her breathing to slow as she turned her mind to something other than her unrequited feelings for a handsome lumberjack.
It wasn’t even fair to call them unrequited. Harper had never bothered to try and see if Mason could ever see her as more than a friend. She couldn’t. For years, her mother had been breathing down her neck to try and force Harper into a mold that her artistic brain just didn’t want to comply with. Sharon Woodson wanted her daughter to be a lawyer...just like her.
As a single mother, Sharon had learned that not all jobs paid the bills and Harper was more grateful than she could say that her mom worked two jobs, went back to school and managed to pass the bar exam, all while raising a little girl. Their life had gone from difficult to luxurious, all because of Sharon’s dedication.
But Harper didn’t have the same ideals. She saw how hard her mother worked, and admired her for it, but she wanted something different. Harper didn’t want premature age lines. She didn’t want to try to keep up with “The Good Old Boys” at work. She didn’t want to create arguments or try to find holes in other people’s stories.
Harper wanted to create. She loved color and nature and her mind often wandered to how she could capture the beauty around her. Sharon said it came from Harper’s father’s mother. A woman Harper had never met before her death. Sharon and her husband hadn’t been together long, but it was enough that Harper’s grandmother had left Harper a small trust fund that she’d been able to use to pay for art school and now help her live independently, despite her mother’s complaints.
“There.” Harper put the last canvas down, admiring her work. Everything was neat as a pin, just as it should be. She even had a few new paintings this time around in order to catch new eyes. After Austin, Aspen’s husband, had asked her to paint some pictures of cake for their bakery, Harper had discovered she enjoyed the bright whimsy of the product and spent some time creating cute, food-centric pictures that would be darling in a little girl’s room, or liven up a brightly colored kitchen.
With a deep breath and a practiced force of determination, she began hauling everything to her car. The crossover vehicle had a large back, which allowed her to drive her paintings around without worry of them being squished or broken during transport, and had been her first big splurge after arriving in Oregon.
After depositing the last canvas in the back, Harper shut the hatch and grabbed her buzzing phone from her back pocket. “Hey, Aspen!” Harper cried, recognizing her friend’s number. “How goes the baking today?”
Aspen’s laughter came through the tiny speaker. “We’re almost sold out of the red velvet whoopie pies already,” she replied. “So I’m busy whipping up another batch. Apparently, people are really into hand held desserts today.”
“Who wouldn’t be with that marshmallow filling you use,” Harper teased. She could practically feel her pants getting tighter as she imagined eating more of Aspen’s delicious treats. The whole town loved them, but Harper loved them a little too much.
“Let’s just hope the trend continues,” Aspen retorted. “It never seems to fail that I replenish something, only for people to decide they want mint instead of red velvet.”
Harper grinned, but didn’t respond. She completely understood the sentiment.
“Anyway...” Aspen continued. “I was calling to ask about the market today. Wait... It is today, right?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, good.” Aspen huffed. “For a second there, I thought maybe my brain was going crazy.”
We call that newlywed brain, Harper thought, though she didn’t bother saying it out loud. She was beyond happy for her friend. The road to Aspen and Austin’s marriage had been a difficult one, and a very public one. There was no way to be anything but ecstatic that the two had finally gotten together and their marriage last month had been just as sweet as a bakery display case. “Nope. You’re right on. I just finished packing the pictures and now I’m gonna shower.”
Aspen laughed softly. “Sounds about right. The paintings always were the priority.”
Harper shrugged even though Aspen couldn’t see it. “People don’t buy them based on how I look.”
“True enough...mostly. So...what are the hours? And remind me what park you’re in?”
“Haven Park. Eleven to seven.” Harper had it memorized. She had been a little eager when the schedule had begun to emerge.
“Perfect,” Aspen responded. “I don’t have to leave early in order to make it.”
“And if you showed up with leftovers...I certainly wouldn’t be upset...” Harper hedged. Who needed slim hips? A couple of Aspen’s cookies would definitely be worth the extra speed walk on the beach or another session of yoga.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Aspen said, her smile heard in her tone. “But I gotta run. See you later! And good luck!”
“Thanks!” Harper shut down the call and headed to her bathroom. Her cottage was tiny but cozy and it only took seconds to reach her destination, but she didn’t mind.
Aspen’s call had reminded Harper that she wasn’t alone. She might live by herself and her work might be slightly isolating, but with friends and future customers on the horizon, Harper knew everything would be alright. Unrequited crush or not, she had everything she needed in order to be healthy and happy.
*****
“WILL THESE WORK FOR you?” Mr. Davidson asked Mason, waving his arms at a couple of logs.
Mason studied the wood. He already had plans in his head for what he wanted to do with them, but his designs had been in mathematical terms only. Now that the wood had actually been delivered, he needed to see it from all sides to make sure it would work. After walking a circle, Mason nodded. “Looks great.” He stuck out his hand, shaking the festival director’s hand. “Thanks for having them brought here.”
Mr. Davidson beamed. “We’re thrilled to have you doing a live exhibition,” he said, pumping Mason’s arm. “It always brings in more people to have a demonstration going on.”
Mason smiled and nodded, then turned back to the logs. They were in great shape and he knew the wolf and bear he had planned would turn out great. Chainsaw carving was a creative outlet he loved, but didn’t do as often as he would like. During most of the year he was too busy with his work in the lumberyard office, but he always itched to get outside, and this was his opportunity to do it.
Mason worked in sales for a large lumber mill, which allowed him to work from home. That was a definite perk since the main office was several hours away from the coast he enjoyed. But the best part of his job was that Maynard Lumber acted as a sponsor whenever Mason had a live carving session. It was the best of both worlds. He had permission from his boss to let loose his creative side, and the lumber company got free publicity.
Really, Mason knew he couldn’t ask for a better set up. Yet, lately...he’d found himself feeling like something was missing. He couldn’t quite find a word for his emotions, though he knew most people would say he was lonely. If he wanted to be brutally honest with himself, he probably was, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
A flash of blonde hair caught his attention and Mason jerked to look before catching himself. The woman didn’t even notice his reaction and continued walking across the park, oblivious to his inner turmoil.
“Get yourself under control,” Mason grumbled to himself. He shook his head. How stupid was it to react so strongly to blonde hair? Even if it had been Harper, jerking like an idiot would only have frightened her or made her believe Mason was having some kind of seizure.
As soon as he thought of her name, a picture of the petite woman flashed through his mind. Compared to his six-foot-three-inch frame, Harper was the size of a child. She was probably a full foot shorter than him, yet despite her height, her curves meant no one would ever mistake her for anything but a woman.
Clear, blue eyes that always seemed to see too much, and long, straight golden hair that looked like silk were her best features. Though soft pink lips and a dainty sprinkle of freckles across her nose didn’t hurt either.
Mason shoved one of the logs over and began rolling it into a better position, his mind still stuck on the woman who had been invading his dreams lately. He had known her for several years, but it had only been recently that he’d noticed his feelings changing. They were part of the same large friend group in Seagull Cove and saw each other often, though at first Mason had only chatted with her occasionally. Now, however, he found himself looking for her whenever he entered a room. Her laughter drew him in like a bee to honey and if there was an open seat anywhere near her, he took it without hesitation.
Somehow, slowly, she had wiggled herself under his skin, though Mason couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact cause or moment. He was certainly attracted to her physically, but there was more. She was unerringly kind, something Mason thought a dying art in today’s world. She was loyal and had a good sense of humor. She was creative and had always made him feel like a giant among men whenever she spoke of one of his creations, though her own artistic skills far surpassed his own. Being around her simply felt...good. And the more Mason did it, the more he wanted to.
This last winter had been a hubbub with Aspen and Austin’s dating and eventual marriage, and Mason was truly happy for them both, though he wanted nothing to do with such a big spotlight himself. Now, however, things had calmed down and he was wishing he could make his move. If only he was in a position to do so.
Despite his wishes, his time, money and attention were already spoken for and until there was a change in the case...Mason knew he would only be able to give any woman half of himself, and he wanted more for someone like Harper.
“Mason!”
His entire body stiffened. Speak of the angel. He forced himself to move slowly as he turned around. “Harper! Hey.” He waved his hand, knowing immediately he looked like an idiot. Perhaps the ground would swallow him up and he could try again another time?
No such luck.
Harper’s smile was wide and stunning. Her even, white teeth were on full display. “I was hoping to see you here.”
Mason blinked a couple of times. Was she...?
Harper’s smile dropped a notch. “I just knew you’d be anxious to get out and get moving now that the weather’s warming up.” She looked up at him expectantly.
His burgeoning hope splattered like a broken egg on a sidewalk. Mentally face-palming himself for his over eagerness, he opened his mouth and prayed something intelligent came out. “Yeah...it’s always nice to get outside.” Absolutely brilliant. Friends, idiot, just friends! She knows that, why can’t you remember?
“I’m excited to see what you create with the logs this time.”
Mason looked at the wood and nodded. “Yeah. Should be fun.”
Harper nodded with him, as if waiting for more, but Mason was tongue tied. She glanced over her shoulder. “Well...I better get unloaded and set up. The festival’s opening soon.” She took a few steps away, paused, then smiled and left.
Mason opened his mouth, but nothing came out and he snapped it shut again. Can I help you unload? Did you paint a lot over the holidays? Anything new in your collection? He growled low. What was wrong with him? How hard was it to carry on a conversation with someone he was friends with! She wasn’t a stranger and she definitely wasn’t going to bite his head off for speaking to her. In fact, she had started their chat in the first place!
Mason pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed down his beard. If his brother Crew saw him acting like such an idiot, there would never be an end to the teasing. Forcing his stupidity out of his head, Mason went back to putting the log in place. He might not be good with women, but darned if he couldn’t handle wood.
This daydreaming of something he couldn’t have was killing him. Every time he got close to Harper, he realized just how strong his crush was, but every time she walked away, his rational brain reminded him that he had a mission, and it didn’t include getting cozy with a beautiful woman.
He finished setting the log upright and stepped back, breathing heavily. This was ridiculous. If he could handle dealing with whirling blades at fifty miles an hour, he could stay friends with a woman he was attracted to.
He glanced in the direction she had disappeared. He could do this. He had to do this, if only to try and salvage his pride. As soon as his first live demonstration was over, Mason determined that he was going to walk by her booth and strike up a conversation. He couldn’t ask her on a date, but he could talk with a buddy.
And say more than two words to her.
He nodded firmly, committing the decision to memory. Harper had never treated him with anything but kindness and Mason could do the same. He was positive that by the time he wrapped up his family drama and was able to focus on dating, she would already be taken. And it’d be fine. He would just find another blonde...who was beautiful...and kind...had adorable freckles...and painted stunning coastal pictures...
He rubbed his forehead. This might be harder than he thought.