“It’s not?” He frowned. “Who says?”

“Serious art people. Capital A Art People.”

“Like your mom?”

Suzanne was fast coming to recognize that Grady was no stereotypical, slow-off-the-mark cowpoke. He was sharp and missed nothing. “Yes.”

“Is that why you haven’t told her what you’ve painted when she’s asked?”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t understand.”

“I guess it must be hard being Simone St. Michelle’s daughter.”

“It can be.” Suzanne didn’t want to dwell on that, though. She’d grown up with enormous privilege thanks to her mother’s success—it was such a first-world problem.

“You’re intimidated?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s just been easier to replicate other people’s art than create my own because I’m good at it and I love doing it. If I tried something different, there would be a lot of…expectation. There would be comparisons. And if I wanted to stand on my own, as an artist in my own right, which I do, I’d have to be…”

“Better?”

“No.” She gave another quick shake of her head. “We work in different mediums; it wouldn’t be about better. It’s about being…more.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“Yeah. Hence the muse problem. I mean, what if it’s all crap and lifeless, like I’m still copying instead of creating? What if I’ll never be any good in my own right? What if I’ll always just have to stick with painting other people’s paintings? It’s why I jumped at Winona’s suggestion to come here.” She glanced up to find his warm gaze trained firmly on her face. “To get away from the art world and see what I could create without a bunch of people in my head. I thought I’d paint the landscape, but then my muse perked up when she saw you, and—”

“The muse wants what the muse wants.”

“Yeah.” And the muse had wanted Grady. Even if Suzanne had fought her tooth and nail.

“Well, then, maybe I should turn this way.” He rolled onto his hip, baring his ass to her view. “I’m told it’s my good side.”

Suzanne laughed. It was a mighty fine side, complete with a shoulder blade tattoo, but the man didn’t have a bad one.

He rolled back again, his face suddenly serious. “You’ve already painted the hardest part of me five times, and each time you managed to perfectly capture the exact thing I see in myself every time I look in the mirror. Now, I know jack about art, but I figure that’s something pretty damn special, Suzanne St. Michelle. Just like what you’re painting now will be.”