Текст книги "The Absence of Olivia"
Автор книги: Anie Michaels
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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter Fourteen
Present Day
True to his word, my camera was safely deposited under a tree, dry as a bone. We continued our wade through the water, and when we came to our next obstacle, I couldn’t hold in my laughter.
“This is the weirdest hike I’ve ever been on,” I mumbled. Before us, blocking the stream was a naturally made stack of logs. A pile of downed trees had obviously fallen from the tops of the ravine and landed in the gorge. A legitimate logjam. I watched as people climbed over the wooden obstacle course. The image of the logs alone was breathtaking. It was a little amazing to think nature had made something so intricate and beautiful.
“Hey, I never said it was going to be boring. In fact,” he said, turning to look me in the eyes, “I can pretty much promise it’ll never be boring with me.”
“Noted,” I breathed. His smiled changed, grew a little warmer, but then his eyes swung back to the mound of logs.
“It doesn’t look difficult. See, children are climbing over it.” He pointed toward a group of teenagers climbing up the crazy log pile with gusto.
“I never said I wasn’t going to do it.”
“Well, all right then. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He winked at me and then started toward our next adventure.
Not one to ever back down from a challenge, I followed him. Approaching the naturally made ladder of sorts, I tried to think objectively about how best to get to the top. I placed my foot on one log, but then changed my mind and tried another tactic. Nothing felt natural. No step I took felt like the right way to tackle the problem.
“Lyn,” I heard Nate call out, and then I heard him say it again before I realized he was talking to me. I looked up and caught his gaze. “Sorry,” he said, his eyes smiling so brightly at me. “It just kind of slipped out. I know other people call you Evie, but Lyn seems to fit you so much better.”
I shook my head, breathlessly. “You can call me Lyn. That’s fine.” I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to use real words. He was right. Everyone did call me Evie and I’d never thought much about it. But thinking about Nate calling me something different, something he liked, something he had come up with, made every part of me ache in a delicious way. Even more, knowing he was the only one who would call me that made it even sweeter.
He smiled as his shoulders relaxed a little, looking as though they were sagging with relief. “Don’t overthink it, Lyn. Just go for it.”
It took me only a moment to realize he’d been talking about the log obstacle. He waved a hand at me, urging me to join him. He was easily ten feet up the giant log ladder. I let out a deep breath and decided to try it his way and just wing it.
Hand over foot, I slowly made my way up, log by log. Some were cramped tightly together, others were farther apart and caused me to take longer strides to make it up. I stole a glance at Nate after a few successful steps and was happy to see him smiling down at me. It took about ten minutes of climbing and strategizing on the fly until I reached the summit of the logs, and was happy to see Nate standing on the tallest log, looking a little like Captain Morgan with one leg propped up higher than the other, hands on his hips.
“You made it,” he said, a genuine smile spreading over his face. I couldn’t help but blush when he reached a hand out to me, helping me up the very last log, and then continued to hold it, threading his fingers through my own. I was closer to thirty than I’d like to admit, but I was holding a guy's hand and blushing about it.
“That was fun,” I managed, smiling up at him, hoping the blush of my cheeks could pass for a healthy glow from the climb.
“Wanna sit up here and have lunch?”
I shrugged. “Sure.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and then released it as he pulled off his backpack. He walked toward the edge of the logs and I followed, understanding that he wanted to be out of the way of the rest of the hikers trying to make their way over the pile.
He straddled a log, sitting with his backpack in front of him and I copied his stance.
“So,” he said, unzipping his backpack and bringing out what I immediately recognized as Subway sandwiches. “I have turkey with American cheese, or roast beef with cheddar. Your choice. And if you don’t like either of those I might dive off this log mountain.”
“I’ll take turkey,” I said through laughter. He handed me a wrapped sandwich, then reached back into his bag and opened his palm toward me.
“Mayo? Mustard?” He had little packets of condiments in his hand, offering them to me.
“You think of everything, don’t you?” I asked, taking a little mayo packet from his hand, noticing the zing that shot through me when our skin touched, but trying not to react to it.
“Listen, I never hold back on a date. I’m here to impress. I had to ask the sandwich artist especially for the to-go packets.”
I laughed even harder as I imagined Nate, the masculine, imposing person he was physically, asking a teenage girl for mayo packets.
“I appreciate it. There’s nothing worse than a dry sandwich.”
“See? I knew you were perfect for me.” His tone was light and playful, but his words made my heart pound in my chest. Partly because it had been years since someone had said anything romantic to me, but more so, because I wanted the words to be true. I wanted to be perfect for someone. I’d spent the majority of my life feeling like the only person who was perfect for me, had already found his perfect match. “You took the mayo and I took the mustard. You’re the yin to my yang.”
I blushed even harder, made speechless by his almost childish yet adorable mushiness. It was quite ridiculous. I’d always told myself I didn’t need flowers and romance, but his condiment comparisons were enough to make my heart skip a beat.
“So, tell me about your life.” He made the request just before he took the first bite of his sandwich, looking at me as if my answer was going to be the most interesting thing he’d ever hear. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow and found myself mimicking him, swallowing down the need that grew in my belly with that one stupid yet ridiculously sexy movement on his neck.
“My life?” I finally asked, needing a little more clarification.
“Yeah. You know, what you do for fun, your hobbies, your likes, dislikes, murderous tendencies – anything interesting.”
“I have never murdered anyone,” I said through a laugh.
“See? That’s useful information. Continue.” He took another bite and I looked down at my own sandwich, refusing to watch the man eat a sandwich to satisfy my own twisted attraction.
“For the most part, I’m kind of a hybrid between a single gal in my late twenties and an old cat lady in my late fifties.”
“Do you have many cats?” One of his eyebrows was raised and his sandwich was paused halfway up to his mouth. He looked concerned.
“No,” I giggled. “I actually don’t have any pets. But, I fit the profile. I should have cats. But I’m too busy working, and now taking care of Ruby and Jax, I don’t even have time for a cat, let alone the twenty minimum I’d need to reach cat lady status.”
“Yeah. Ruby and Jax. They seem like great kids. Their mom must have been pretty special.”
I fought past the lump that formed in my throat at his words. “She was the best,” I managed, but my voice was strained and my eyes were down again. Suddenly, I felt Nate’s warm hand on the top of my knee.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said quietly, rubbing his hand gently over my bare skin. “How long ago did she pass?”
“It’s been a few months. But it feels like days or hours.” I let out a loud sigh. “Those kids though, they’re tough. Some days you can’t even tell they’ve lost their mother, which I’m glad for. That’s a blessing. The days when they’re laughing and smiling like nothing ever happened, I live for those days. But then there are days when there aren’t enough tissues in the world to dry their tears.” I paused, trying to push the images of those two kids crying out of my mind. “Ruby’s eight, so she feels the loss more. She knows what she’s missing a little deeper than Jax. But Jax is a little momma’s boy with no momma. Some days, he seems lost and that’s hard.”
I was quiet for a few moments, not really knowing where to take the conversation from there.
“And what about their dad?” Nate’s voice was like velvet draped over hard steel. It was rough, but I could tell he was trying to ease it up. He didn’t like asking the question, but wanted too badly to know the answer to let it be.
I shrugged. “Devon is a man who lost his wife, the mother of his children. He struggles daily, but is trying hard to be the pillar of his family. He’s still trying to figure it all out.”
“Does it bother you to talk about him?”
“No,” I answered immediately and truthfully. I’d much rather talk about him than be with him. Being around Devon was becoming confusing and tiring. Things were tense between us.
“It just seems like there’s more going on than a friend helping out a friend.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“How complicated?”
I paused, searching for words, searching for truth. I wasn’t sure how complicated it was. The relationship between Devon and I had always been so much more than what lay on the surface, even if we never spoke about it or acknowledged it. Finally, I shrugged, not having any words for Nate.
“Complicated enough that I should stop pursuing you?” My eyes snapped up to meet his gaze and I felt the intensity of his question, his eyes holding mine with a force I’d never experienced before.
I shook my head gently and whispered, “No.” The only thing stronger than the strange connection I’d always felt with Devon was the way Nate’s eyes were locked on me in that moment. His gaze said more to me and made me feel more than any passing touch from Devon had caused.
I’d always thought Devon was the end-all and be-all to my being. I’d always assumed he would be the pinnacle of emotions for me, thought he’d been the yin to my yang. And I’d stupidly been all right with letting my other half spend a lifetime with someone else. Suddenly, atop a pile of logs in the middle of the forest in the Columbia River Valley, I came to realize that, perhaps, I’d been wrong. Perhaps, Devon wasn’t my other half.
I felt my mind take a mental snapshot of that moment. Nate across from me, tanned skin glistening in the sun, legs straddling a formidable log, brown hair shining in the sunlight, eyes trained on me, expression serious yet compassionate. I wanted to remember the moment when I realized life wasn’t as bleak as I’d made it out to be, and I wanted to remember the person who’d reminded me that I was still worth pursuing.
“No,” I repeated, my voice a little sturdier than before. “You shouldn’t stop pursuing me.”
The smile that spread across his face was award winning. Bright, genuine, relieved. “Great. I didn’t plan on it anyway.”
We finished our sandwiches, drank our water, and sat atop those logs for an hour, talking about everything and nothing. Nate collected comic books. This did not surprise me in the least. He’d shown some boyish tendencies all day, but it wasn’t unattractive; it was sweet. And it took the pressure off a little. Picturing him perusing a comic book store, purchasing plastic wrapped picture books somehow made him less threatening. How dangerous could a man who read comic books be, after all?
Any ideas I had about him being boyish, however, were thrust to the back of my mind as we climbed down the logs, trying to make our way toward the end of the ‘trail’. I was slowly stepping down the logs when my foot hit a wet spot and I stumbled. I was going down, my hands splayed out in front of me, trying to break my fall, when I felt his strong hands grip my shoulders. My eyes snapped up and I realized he’d caught me. He’d simply reached out and gripped my shoulders, stopping me from tumbling down a hill of logs.
“Whoa. You all right?” he asked with concern lacing his voice as I found my footing again.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“I knew I’d get you to fall head over heels for me, but I don’t want you to break a limb doing it.” His screen-worthy smile was back and his hands were not letting me go. In fact, he just moved down my arms and wrapped his hands around both of mine. I was standing on a log above him, so my eyes were level with his beautiful brown ones, and I felt my breath hitch at his words and the playful yet sexy look he was giving me. His confidence was on full blast again, and just like before, I was eating it up.
My eyes darted down to his lips, for one brief stolen moment, without my permission, and I saw his reaction. His sexy smile morphed into a cocky one, which, for the record, wasn’t any less sexy. Quite the opposite, in fact. In the split second I was staring at his lips, his tongue darted out and wet the tip of his top lip, and my knees almost buckled again. Reluctantly, I brought my eyes back to his.
“Maybe you’ll be the one to fall for me,” I said, unsure of where my bravado suddenly came from.
He laughed. “Lyn, baby, I’m pretty sure that was a foregone conclusion.”
“Oh,” was all I could say in response. My heart was thundering in my chest at his use of the word baby. Had we progressed all the way to the pet-name stage of our relationship already? Not only was I unsure of when and how you were supposed to start calling people things like baby and honey, I also didn’t care. He could call me whatever he wanted as long as he used that particular timbre of his voice, which made every inch of my skin crawl with anticipation.
He gave my hands a squeeze, broadened his smile, then let one of my hands go, keeping one, and leading me down the ladder of logs.
We walked in companionable silence, never letting go of each other’s hand, soaking in the sights and sounds of our surroundings. The water, which continued past the log graveyard, never went more than waist deep again. After about thirty minutes of wading and walking, we came to the climax of the trail, the place which was responsible for the people risking their lives on the enormous logjam. Obviously, someone had leaked what waited past it, because otherwise, fewer people would traverse it.
I was looking at the most beautiful waterfall. Without thinking, I dropped his hand and started snapping photos furiously. I very truthfully forgot he was there for a few minutes, finding perfect shots and lining them up in my viewfinder, snapping away. I started to back up, trying to get more of the falls in the shot, when suddenly he was in my screen. He was facing away from me, one leg bent more than the other, hands resting at his sides, his face angled toward the sky trying to see where the water was falling from. The sun was bursting above him, rays raining down on his gorgeous hair, and I was captivated.
I captured the image in my camera, in my mind, and more deeply, in my heart. He was burnt in it, forever plastered against its walls, leaving a permanent mark. I knew the photo would be immaculate, but it wouldn’t do the moment justice. Not even close.
He turned and caught me taking his picture, but only smiled at me, allowing me to take one last perfect picture of his gorgeous smile with sunlight radiating around him, mist from the falls clouding the air around him. He held his hand out to me and said, “Come on.”
I let my camera drape from my neck and took his hand, unable to hide or smother the smile I wore.
He walked along the edge of the water, leading me around the pool that formed at the bottom of the falls. He continued to hold my hand as he led me up a rocky ledge that led to a manmade path that brought us back behind the falls. It was, compared to other falls in the area, a relatively small waterfall, but the cavern behind the falls was large and dark. Water dripped from the cavern roof and a cold breeze blew through, making me shiver. Nate stopped when we were deep in the cave and sat on a large rock. My voice caught in my throat when he pulled me into his lap, leaving me sitting sideways on his large thighs. He wrapped his big, warm arms around me, his hands moving over the exposed skin of my arms.
“You’re freezing,” he said softly.
I’d been extremely cold only seconds before, but then he pulled me to him, and put his hands on me, and suddenly, I couldn’t remember ever being warmer. His hands moved up and down my bare arms and my eyes stayed locked on his. Slowly, on each pass upward, his hands moved farther up until finally they caressed my shoulders, rubbing gently, kneading just enough to make my eyelids flutter. After a few moments, his rough yet tender hands moved to grasp each side of my neck, thumbs gently stroking me there, and his eyes were silently asking for permission.
I nodded, ever so slightly, and watched as his eyes, which looked almost pained, moved closer to me until finally his lips feathered over mine. I took in a shuddering breath, not prepared for the enormity of what I would feel with his mouth against mine. Kissing Nate was like coming home. It was like coming in from a rainstorm to sit in front of a roaring fire. Like the first sunny day after months of clouds. It was simply everything. And as if he knew I would be lost with his mouth pressing against mine, knew I’d be drowning in feeling, he wasted no time taking control.
His hands came up to cradle my face, holding me to him, his lips moving over mine with purpose. His lips parted slightly and I let out a breathy gasp as he took my lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently. He may as well have been sucking on a few other parts of my body for what it made me feel. I was instantly hot and buzzing, imagining his mouth doing that exact same thing in other places. I groaned slightly when his teeth came to nip at me, and at my noises, he seemed to lose a bit of his control.
Instantly, his arm was around my waist and I yelped as he stood, holding me to him, but swinging me so that my legs wrapped around him, then sat again with my legs straddling him. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around the neck strap of my camera, then paused, silently asking permission to take it off. I bent my head forward and felt him lift it over, then watched as he placed it gently on top of his backpack, keeping it off the wet cavern floor.
When he turned back to me, each of his hands landed on one of my knees, and then slowly slid up my thighs, to the side of my hips and up my ribcage. His large, warm palms slid over my back and he pulled me closer to him, my breasts pressing up against his hard chest, and then he kissed me again. This time, though, the kiss was hungry. He wasted no time parting my lips with his tongue. Then, he just took.
I’d never submitted to anyone like I did in that moment. I was happily giving control over to him, finally glad to feel like I was allowed to give someone whatever he wanted. Excited not to feel shame or guilt for kissing someone, for feeling whatever I was feeling. And, at that moment, I was feeling hungry too.
My hands wandered over his chest, my tongue pressed against his, and I reveled in the feeling of being so close to him, of letting him get that close to begin with. This was no at-arms-length encounter; he wasn’t someone I was trying to keep at a safe distance. He was in it with me, entirely present, fully pressed against me, and his body was asking for more.
His hands raked down my back then came around my waist and while one hand rested on my hip, the other floated up my belly then came to cup my breast, gently palming me over my shirt. The contact was maddening and I wished we weren’t just yards away from other hikers. The brief brush of his hand over my breast was enough to light a fire, but now I had no way to put out the flame.
His mouth pulled away from mine roughly, but then landed on my neck, kissing down the sensitive skin there until his tongue met the hollow part at the base. I was panting, my hands threaded through his soft hair, practically holding his mouth to me, hoping he never stopped using it on me.
“God, Lyn, I can’t get enough.” His mouth dragged back up my throat, moving over my jaw, then took my mouth again. I rocked forward, trying to get as close to him as I possibly could, trying to, Jesus, I didn’t know. I wanted to climb inside of him, wanted to be a part of him, and to have him be a part of me. I wanted to somehow bind myself to him, mark him, leave some sort of proof I had been there, on his lap, writhing against him, and his mouth had been on my skin. I wanted all kinds of things that didn’t seem possible. I wanted things I’d never thought possible. I wanted him. Even if it was just once, just one time to feel that connection to him, I’d give anything.
“Nate,” I groaned against his mouth, loving the way he growled when he heard his name come from my lips. If we’d been anywhere else even remotely more private I’d be peeling my shirt off, hoping he’d take me and never look back. But we were outdoors with plenty of people right on the other side of the falls. Anyone could walk back there and find us.
I pulled away from his mouth again, but he wouldn’t let me go far. His hands gripped my face, gently holding me to him, our foreheads pressed together. I felt his fast and fevered breaths pant across my face. My hands rested on his chest feeling his heart beat rapidly.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered.
“You’re sorry?” I asked, afraid he regretted the whole exchange. Afraid he thought he’d made a mistake. All the important men in my life had made a mistake with me.
“Lyn, baby, I’m sorry I did that here – in broad daylight. I’m not sorry I kissed you – not at all.” His hands moved reverently over my cheeks and down my neck, as if he just needed to put his hands on any part of me available. My eyes closed at the feeling of his rough and calloused hands moving over my sensitized skin. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you. I’ve been trying to read you, trying to figure out if you’d want that.” He swallowed thickly and I watched his Adam’s apple bob, biting my lower lip to keep myself from moving my mouth toward it. “Tell me you wanted it,” he whispered, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, anxiety apparent in his expression.
I moved my own hands up to wrap around both sides of his thick, corded neck, making sure I said my next words with as much conviction as I could muster. “I’ve never wanted anything more than for you to kiss me.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around me, holding me for a few minutes, letting both our bodies come down from the kiss-induced high we’d climbed to just moments before.
“You’re a fantastic kisser,” I said, my voice soft and playful, hoping to lead us out of the thick and heavy moment and back into the light. He squeezed me a little tighter and I felt a slight laugh rumble through him, doing absolutely nothing to calm the arousal I was trying to keep at bay. He leaned back and then gently tucked another tendril of hair behind my ear.
“I must have been inspired.”
“Well, here’s hoping you get inspired again sometime.” I winked at him and this time he let out a legitimate laugh. And just like that, we were back to the easy lightness we’d shared with him all day. One minute he was kissing me like he needed to devour me and the next we were laughing and making jokes. Something in the back of my mind told me this is how it’s supposed to be. It doesn’t always have to be hard or sad or forced. Happiness is light.
I shook my head, trying to free my mind of the profound thoughts making themselves known while I was sitting on an attractive man’s lap.
I stood up and grabbed my camera, draping it around my neck again, and then Nate stood and took my hand, grabbed his backpack, and led me out of the cavern, back in to reality.
