Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Once a casual purchase, it's now out of production.

Kellan wasn't entirely sure if his senses were playing tricks on him, but there was a perceptible change in Allison's voice when she spoke, a subtle lightness, as if the idea of ​​perfume truly pleased her.

The patio basked in the soft glow of sunlight, which cast an even heat over everything.

Two cats zigzagged around his legs, brushing them from time to time, their meows demanding attention.

The faint plum scent emanating from Allison calmed the restlessness bubbling inside Kellan.

Distracted, he accidentally pushed a little too hard, making a hole in the clay he'd been working on.

Careful.

Don't force it, he instructed.

Let the clay guide you.

Gently shape it until it starts to come together on its own, and then you can give it that final push.

Allison snapped her finger, guiding her hand with a subtle touch, placing her fingers where they needed to be.

If you want it to have life, don't treat it like a dead weight lump.

Relax, he told her softly.

And stop closing your fingers like that.

Their fingertips touched and Kellan felt a subtle jolt run through him, like a spark of electricity.

He wanted to back away, but doing so would make it too obvious, too deliberate.

Her voice lingered in the air, soft but authoritative, as if only she could hold him back.

He noticed that his skin, pale but warm, had calluses on his fingers.

From where he was sitting, he could see his face, totally focused on the clay.

His bangs were a little out of place, but his hands moved with precision.

The calluses on the tips of his fingers, especially the ring and index fingers, reminded him of his own, with the difference that his had been earned after years of handling firearms.

You can support him a little more below, he added.

Kellan shook himself mentally, realizing how ridiculous his thinking had been.

Allison Liking Him It was impossible.

He had grown up around gunpowder and violence; she seemed so indifferent, so unconcerned with the world around her.

And if she knew how to use firearms, Colton probably wouldn't still be standing.

He was thinking too much.

As the clay began to take shape into something more refined beneath his fingers, Kellan found himself smiling, really smiling.

It was an unusual expression for him, and the softness of her eyes surprised him.

Unknown to him, Colton had entered the courtyard, his hand intertwined with Melany's.

The sight before them stopped them in their tracks.

A man and woman sitting together, molding clay.

They seemed almost at peace, like they belonged there.

"Are you sure this is the place," Colton asked, frowning slightly.

He narrowed his eyes, trying hard to believe that the woman before him was Allison.

She wasn't supposed to be here, much less making pottery with Kellan – of all people, who was famous for his impatience with women and his unpredictable temper since his injury.

Yes, I'm sure, Melany answered, with a hint of doubt in his voice and eyes wide with disbelief.

As they got closer, there was no hesitation.

It was Allison and Kellan.

A flash of jealousy crossed Melany's face, but she quickly composed herself and smiled politely.

It's a small world, Allison! I didn't expect you to be so fast.

I've heard that tracking down Emanuel can take weeks, maybe longer with how eccentric he is.

And not to mention that their prices are through the roof….

He stopped, as if suddenly remembering something important.

Oh right, silly me! You just got a nice windfall: four million, no.

I guess this kind of spending must seem like pocket change to you.

Allison didn't even look at her, as if her presence didn't exist.

Realizing that her attempt to create tension was failing, and Seeing that Allison and Kellan continued working without flinching, Melany forced herself to start a conversation.

You must be Mr.

Lloyd.

I didn't expect to replace you here.

Colton, brought out of his distracted thoughts by her words, quickly masked his surprise.

He broke away from his concentration on Allison, forcing a smile as he approached Kellan.

I've heard a lot about you, Mr.

Lloyd.

It's a bit of a shock to meet you here.

The courtesy between them was practiced, almost too similar.

Kellan, however, didn't even look up.

Instead, he kept his attention on Allison.

"This looks good to you.

Yes, you've mastered the technique," she replied.

"This piece is good, no doubt, but it's still a little embarrassing," Kellan said, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"What's so embarrassing about it," Allison asked, "really?" curious From his point of view, this was a better job than the previous one.

What was there to reproach him? Art should always seek perfection, but when a crack appears, it is difficult to ignore it.

Perfection is rare.

And even more difficult to maintain.

However, there are people who insist on creating unnecessary interruptions.

Kellan's tone dropped, taking on a cold tone as he spoke.

If Colton and Melany had a little more wit, they would recognize the subtle hint for what it was: a clear implication that they were not wanted.

Anyone with a bit of common sense would take advantage of the signal to leave.

Melany fought to stay calm, though, and after a while Colton reluctantly lowered his hand, his face tight with pent-up frustration.

He wasn't used to being treated like this, but he wasn't clueless either.

He knew that Kellan had no interest in his company.

Colton, Melany whispered from behind, tugging lightly on his sleeve as if afraid he was going to lash out at him.

Aware of the business interests at stake, Colton swallowed his pride, forcing himself to bear it.

the insult He smiled thinly.

You are absolutely right, sir.

His views on art are truly revealing.

His compliment, though stiff, barely concealed his irritation.

Seeing that he was making an effort, Melany resumed her bright, innocent demeanor.

Mr.

Lloyd, your craftsmanship is something else, she said, flashing a charming smile.

I have rarely seen such perfectly formed pottery.

Even looking at the shape, I can tell that it is of the highest quality.

I may not know how to make ceramics, but I appreciate it very much.

That's why we traveled here to learn from Mr.

Welsh, the master potter.

Meeting you is an unexpected gift.

With a delicate gesture, she gathered her hair behind her ear, her voice light and sweet.

Mr.

Lloyd, would you mind if we sat here and watched for a while.

.

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