Chapter 55

“I can feel you staring at me.” His voice was muffled. “Have I ever told you that I’m shy?”

Micah snorted and went to his satchel. “You shall be hard-pressed to ever convince me of such. And it isn’t staring. It’s appreciating the beauty of my canvas.” As he pulled out the items he needed, he glanced back, unable to resist the temptation. “You don’t need to bury your face. This might take a while.”

Jefferson turned his head, his slate eyes dark with curiosity and desire. “Canvas? What are you going to do to me?”

“What does one normally do with a canvas?”

Though he kept his voice light, the emotion tight in his throat had his hands shaking, and he moved quickly, kneeling at Jefferson’s side. Taking a deep breath, he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. The familiar gesture calmed his nerves.

“Paint. Create.” Micah’s emotion seemed to be echoed in Jefferson’s words. “Create a new shape for the world. How are you going to use this canvas?”