Chapter 46: The Art of Being Seen

Samuel leaned against the trunk of the car, a small, satisfied grin on his face as he looked at Kate. “Why don’t you head inside? I’ll bring your gifts in.”

Kate tilted her head, a curious smile lighting her face. “Gifts? Samuel, what did you do?”

He winked, nodding toward the door. “Go on, you’ll see.”

She made her way inside, her mind racing with possibilities. Moments later, Samuel followed, carefully carrying two framed art pieces. Her eyes widened as she took in the vibrant colors and intricate details. Each painting was unique, but both had a warmth to them that made her feel immediately at home.

“Samuel…” She touched the frame of one of the paintings, her smile genuine. “These are incredible. Thank you.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though his gaze didn’t quite meet hers. A subtle heaviness lingered in his expression.

“You okay?” she asked, studying him closely.

“Yeah,” he replied, but his voice carried a weight she didn’t miss. “I just thought you’d like them, that’s all.”

She stepped closer, gently squeezing his arm. “I love them. Really, they’re perfect.”

A flicker of something softened his expression, though it didn’t quite lift the unease. She tilted her head, determined to bring back that spark in him. “So, where do you think we should put them?”

He glanced at the paintings, thoughtful. “I was thinking… one in the living room and one in your room upstairs. That way, they’re spread around.”

She smiled, nodding. “Great idea.” She paused, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Why don’t you hang them? You’ve got a better eye for this stuff than I do.”

He chuckled, finally meeting her gaze. “Alright, if you insist.”

As they headed to the living room, Kate watched as he carefully measured and adjusted the painting against the wall, his brow furrowed in concentration. She admired how attentive he was, even to something as simple as hanging a picture. But as much as she loved the art, her thoughts lingered on the quiet tension she could feel in him, the way his usual energy seemed subdued.

She decided to nudge him out of his thoughts.

“You know,” she said, leaning against the wall, “the paintings are great, but you’re the one who makes this place feel like home.”

He glanced at her, a small smile breaking through the somberness in his eyes. “Kate…”

She stepped closer, touching his arm again. “I know things have been complicated with Jason back in the picture. But I don’t want you to worry."

His shoulders relaxed a little, though the tension remained. “I just… I know it’s work, but it’s hard seeing you with him.”

“I get that,” she said, her voice warm and steady. “But there’s only one person I want by my side. It’s you.”

He nodded, a quiet exhale escaping him. “Alright,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I guess I just needed to hear that.”

“Good,” she said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Now, go ahead and put the other painting in my room. I’ll be up in a minute.”

This time, his smile was a little brighter, a hint of warmth returning to his eyes. He turned and headed upstairs with the second painting, the weight of his earlier worry seeming to lift with each step. Kate watched him go, a sense of quiet satisfaction settling in her chest. She'd eased some of his tension, but there was more she wanted to do—more she needed to show him.

As Samuel focused on hanging the painting, Kate’s gaze flickered toward the closet, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. She felt the pull of something special in the air—a moment she was ready to share with him.

Slipping into the next room, Kate moved with purpose, already thinking ahead. She rifled through her closet, pulling out a dress she knew would catch his attention: soft lavender lace that hugged her curves perfectly. The neckline dipped low, drawing attention to her collarbone, while the hem teased just above her mid-thigh—a perfect mix of elegance and allure. She slipped it on, feeling the delicate fabric slide over her skin, then spritzed herself with his favorite perfume—a rich, warm scent that always lingered between them.

As she checked herself in the mirror, a surge of confidence washed over her. Looking quite tempting, Kate, she thought with a small grin.

Before she could linger too long, Samuel’s voice floated from the other room.

“All done! Kate, come take a look—see if it needs any adjustments before I head out.”

Her heart quickened, and a playful smirk tugged at her lips. She moved toward her room with purposeful steps, anticipation building with everyone.

As she stepped inside, Samuel didn’t immediately look up, still absorbed in his task. “I think it looks good here,” he said, gesturing toward the painting.

“More good than me?” Kate teased her voice light, with a playful edge to it.

Samuel froze, the sound of her voice pulling his attention toward her. His gaze lifted, briefly meeting her eyes before slowly dropping to the dress. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he forgot to speak. The lavender lace clung to her form, teasing just enough of her skin. Her scent—soft, warm, and distinctly hers—seemed to fill the room, stirring something deeper inside him.

“Kate…” His voice was low, thick with admiration, as he let out a breath. “You… look incredible.”

She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of confidence and teasing. “Thought you were just here to hang a picture,” she murmured, moving in a way that made the dress shift just enough to draw his attention.

His gaze never wavered, his voice hushed. “Yeah, well... the picture’s nice, but I think I might prefer the view.”

Kate stepped closer still, her eyes never leaving his, the challenge clear in her playful smile. “You sure? If you’re done here, I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

Samuel shook his head slowly, lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Why would I leave?”

A satisfied smile spread across Kate’s face as she closed the distance between them. Her fingers brushed over the collar of his shirt, lingering just long enough to send a shiver through her.

“Good,” she whispered, her voice soft, intimate. “Because I was hoping you’d stay.”

Samuel’s hand rose to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek gently, his touch sending warmth rushing through her. “I don’t think I could leave if I tried,” he murmured, his voice thick with something deeper now.

For a moment, they stood in the quiet, their gazes locked. But then, as though to anchor himself, Samuel’s smile shifted, a small shadow flickering in his eyes.

“Yeah… it’s a nice view,” he said, his gaze flickering toward the painting as if looking for something to ground him.

Kate noticed the change—the subtle way his shoulders tensed, the hesitation in his smile. Something was off, though he wasn’t saying it outright.

“Everything okay?” she asked softly, her fingers gently resting on his arm, her voice filled with concern.

Samuel let out a quiet sigh, glancing around the room before meeting her eyes. “I’m just… not really myself tonight,” he confessed, his voice quieter, more vulnerable. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Kate took a step closer, her touch grounding and steady. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” she said gently.

He looked down at her hand, his expression softening just a little. “I just don’t want to bring you down.”

A warm smile curled on her lips as she tightened her grip on his arm. “You’re not,” she reassured him. “But let me take care of you tonight.”

Kate turned with a subtle smile, reaching for her phone. A few taps, and the familiar melody of "Feels Like Home" began to fill the room, its rhythm slow and steady, guiding their movements like a delicate waltz. The light from above cast a golden glow, enveloping them in a soft halo, making the outside world feel like a distant memory.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the music wrapping around them like a soft embrace. The warmth of the light and the gentle notes of the song created an intimate atmosphere, pulling them closer, as if the world outside had ceased to exist.

Kate's fingers gently brushed the nape of Samuel's neck, a touch so light it was almost a whisper. She slid her hand lower, letting it rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. Her other hand, still holding his, moved to his waist as she closed the space between them, her body just inches from his.