Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Nate felt the acute disappointment too. Maybe not as much as Krissa, who’d been wanting this for so long. But he, too, had somehow become invested in this. He, too, had been certain they’d been making a baby. His first experience with this and it confounded him that they could have had sex that many times and not conceive. How many girls got pregnant with one sexual encounter? And then didn’t want the baby. How unfair was that?

He stroked Krissa’s silky hair. His heart ached for her and he found himself wanting to do anything to be able to give her what she wanted. “I’ll stay at least a few more weeks,” he said again. “And we’ll try again.”

“Thank you.”

He did wonder if there could be something wrong with him, except he knew that he may have fathered a child before. Lauren had been pregnant. It could have been his. Or not. He would never know. What if that had been the only chance he’d ever have to be a father? And that unborn child had died along with Lauren in that car crash.

A hot knife sliced through his intestines. Christ! It hadn’t hurt that much when Lauren had died. What was happening to him? He should be over that pain, not feeling it worse now.

“I was thinking about going to that gallery show in L.A.,” he told Krissa. “Greg, the owner of the gallery called yesterday. He really wants me to be there.”

“You should go,” she said, voice muffled in his sweatshirt.

“I told him I’ll think about it.”

He couldn’t imagine going and standing around looking at his work through dark glasses, having to explain to people what had happened to him, feeling their pity for him as they realized he was a washed up photographer with no future. Who was going to buy his prints after that? As far as he was concerned, it was just a big disaster in the making. Greg would be better off without him there.

He watched a sand piper run across the flat, wet sand, its tiny legs moving so fast they were a blur. It followed a wave out, then turned and ran back in when another breaker rolled toward it. Nate lifted his gaze to the water stretching far into the distance, all the way to the sky.

“Hey,” he said. He narrowed his eyes, wished he could take off his glasses. “Look, Krissa. I think it’s dolphins.”

She lifted her head and followed his direction. “It is!” She sat up straighter. “Wow! Look at them. They’re coming this way.”

They sat and watched the pod of dolphins slowly make their way up the coast, exclaiming in awe when one jumped right out of the water.

“Jumping for joy,” she murmured, eyes staring out to sea.

“Dancing,” Nate said. He wished he was closer and had his camera and could take the damn glasses off. Fuck! He yearned to capture their joyous playfulness, their grace and beauty.

“They’re always there,” Krissa said. He dragged his gaze away from the dolphins and looked down at her. “They live in the ocean. They’re always there, we just don’t see them.”

Many things were always there that weren’t always seen. Nate swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off Krissa and her sweet allure, her magic more powerful than the arcing dolphins. When they’d passed by, Krissa turned to Nate, excitement shining her eyes up. Her eyelids and nose were still pink, but a smile turned up the corners of her pretty mouth. He was glad that had happened just then. They’d both needed that. He leaned over and kissed her mouth. “Come on,” he said. “I’m hungry. I bet you didn’t eat breakfast either.”

“No.” He stood and pulled her to her feet, retrieved her empty mug. “I didn’t feel like eating, but now I could.”

“Have you got meetings today? Work to do?”

As they strolled along the beach toward home they talked about the routine things that make up daily life, the things that seem insignificant but which glue all the big important things and hold it all together.

Derek had been disappointed, too, in the news that Krissa wasn’t pregnant, but he took it with a shrug and a more practical response. “Maybe we should go ahead with the sperm donations,” he said to Nate when Krissa wasn’t around. “I know you aren’t going to be here forever, buddy.”

And Nate, who’d already said and thought the same things himself, felt strangely as though Derek didn’t mind that. Or was he imagining things? This whole situation was so bizarre, he didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling half the time.

Nate had to do something. He’d worked out in the gym, walked on the beach, tried to read. Watching television held no interest for him. When he sat still too long, his mind started thinking about Krissa and the fact that she wasn’t pregnant.

Derek had told him he could use his bicycle any time. Neither of them did triathlons any more, but Derek still liked to cycle for fun. Nate checked the bike out in the garage and saw a smaller ladies’ bike there, too.

He found Krissa in her office, sitting in front of her computer.

“Hey.”

She turned at the sound of his voice, and smiled. “Hey yourself.” A hint of sadness still lingered in her eyes.

“What are you working on?”

“A proposal. For the city of Santa Barbara.”

“When does it need to be done?”

“Next week. The RFP said Wednesday.”

“Good. Come with me, then.”

One dark brow lifted. “Come where?”

“For a bike ride.”

“A bike ride?” She stared at him.

“Yeah. Derek said I could use his any time, and I see you have a bike, too. So let’s go get some fresh air.”

“But…”

“Come on, Krissa. It’ll be good for you. You’ve been moping around for days. And I’m going out of my mind. I need to do something. Come with me.” He smiled hopefully. “Remember that time, your last year in college, when I convinced you to go drink beer and play video games all afternoon?”

“When I should have been studying.”

“Yeah.” He grinned.

“And Derek showed up at your apartment later looking for me, all pissed off and grouchy?”

“That too. But remember how you said you felt so relaxed and regenerated? You aced your exam after that.”

She sighed, but smiled. “I guess I could take a break for a little while.” She stood up, dressed in her usual shorts and tank top. “Should I change?”

“You’re fine. Just grab a sweater. It’s really windy out today.”

“Okay.” She saved what she’d been working on, standing at the desk, bent over to use the mouse, which nicely displayed her cute little ass. Nate studied it, liking how the short shorts rode up and exposed the under curve of her butt. He admired the symmetry, the peachy texture of her skin. Nice.

She stood and turned and caught him checking out her ass. Their eyes met and she slowly shook her head as she walked toward him. “What were you looking at?” she asked him and he swallowed.

There was no point in trying to get out of it. “Your ass,” he said cheerfully. “It’s cute.”

She laughed. “Thank you.” She brushed past him to leave her office, disappeared into the bedroom and returned, shoving her arms into a thin blue hoodie.

They rode toward Santa Barbara. “Where are we going?” she called Nate, who was in the lead.

“I don’t know. Wherever we end up.”

This was what he loved—just taking off and going somewhere, without knowing where he was going. Like his life used to be when he was a kid, working at the beach renting bikes. Once he’d gotten a couple of people working for him, he’d take off on his bike with his camera and shoot for hours, wherever he felt like going. A pang of regret that he couldn’t bring a camera and shoot squeezed him, but he pushed it aside. At least he was out in the fresh air, the wind blowing in his face, rushing past his ears. He loved riding fast, but when he glanced behind him and saw he’d left Krissa far behind, he slowed.

“Sorry!” he called to her as she neared. “I got carried away.”

“I can’t keep up with you, Mr. Triathlete,” she puffed.

He laughed. “I’m not a triathlete any more.”

“You’re still an athlete. I’d say you’ve recovered from your food poisoning.’”

Except for his eyes. He didn’t say it. Just thought it. Again.

They cycled on, Nate pedaling slower so he could stay close enough to Krissa. When they arrived at the turnoff to the zoo, he said, “Let’s go in here.”

She followed him along the road and they parked and locked their bikes outside the entrance. “I haven’t been to the zoo in…God, I can’t remember the last time I came to the zoo.”

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I like the zoo. Come on.”

They wandered along the path, eating ice cream, standing and watching the giraffes with their impossibly long necks.

“We should bring Cameron’s kids here sometime,” Nate said. “That would give her a break.”

She looked at him, her head tipped to the side. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Sure.” He held her gaze, squinted. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I just grew a tail or something.” He glanced over his shoulder and brushed his hand over his butt. “I haven’t, have I?”

She smiled, a slow, special smile. “No. I’m just…impressed. I like that you’d do that.”

“Whatever.” It wasn’t that big a deal. But a zoo was even more fun with kids. They moved on to the lions.

After a couple of hours of the zoo, Krissa looked at her watch. “I was just supposed to take a break for a little while,” she reminded him.

“Are you having fun?”

She nodded and he saw her swallow.

“Good. Then let’s bike a little further.”

They cycled past East Beach, busy despite the cool winds and rolling waves, past Stearns Wharf, and when they reached the Breakwater, Nate turned off the path into the parking lot. “Let’s go out on the Breakwater,” he called to her, again leading the way. They dismounted and walked their bikes past the fishing boats, little shops and restaurants. The fishy, salty odor of the ocean intensified here, but the strong wind whipped it quickly away.

The flags lining the walkway on tall poles snapped and flapped stiffly. Waves crashed against the concrete so hard water flew across the sidewalk in places and they had to jump out of the way of a spray of saltwater a few times, laughing, breathless. The wind whipped Krissa’s long hair around her head, across her face and she kept trying to control it.

“This is hopeless,” she said, a frown edging her forehead. Nate stopped, and propped his bike against the wall. He took her hair in his hands, smoothed it back as best he could, and held it at the nape of her neck. She glared up at him.

“You look annoyed.” He grinned.

She sighed. “Yeah. Sorry. I should have worn it up.”

He reached into a pocket of his cargo shorts and fished around, pulled out an elastic band. “Don’t ask me why I have this. I have no idea.” He wrapped it around her messy ponytail a few times to secure it.

She gave him that look again—like he’d grown a tail—and then smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They stood there, smiling into each other’s eyes. Nate let his hands rest on her shoulders. Then a huge wave exploded against the breakwater wall and shot high. Icy seawater rained down on them, drenching them. Krissa screamed and ran, Nate grabbed his bike and followed, and once in a dry place they stood, laughing uncontrollably and gasping for breath.

“I’m soaked!” Krissa cried, holding her arms out to her sides. Water had darkened spots of the blue hoodie.

“You’re okay.” They faced each other and Nate wiped water from her face with his fingertips, lingering on her peachy cheek. He watched his thumb stroke across her bottom lip, then their eyes met. He smiled.

They walked on and paused where the breakwater curved, far enough from the waves that they didn’t have to worry. They leaned on the concrete on their elbows, side by side, and stared out at the ocean.

The breeze tugged tendrils of Krissa’s hair loose to swirl around her face. She pushed them back, but didn’t seem bothered. The fresh air had brought a pinky flush to her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. Yeah, this had been good for her.

They turned their backs to the ocean and regarded the mountains behind the jumble of masts in the harbor.

“Would you like to live on a boat like that?” Nate asked her.

“No way!”

“Why not? You love the ocean.”

“I wouldn’t want to live on it, though. I’m…afraid of it.” She peeked at him through her lashes as if she was embarrassed.

“Afraid of it?”

She turned to him. “Yeah. It’s so huge. And deep. It’s like it’s…endless. I like to look at it from afar but I’m kind of scared of it.” She paused. “One time I was out on a boat with my family, whale watching with a guy my dad knew. We got off course. We were so far out you couldn’t even see the shore and there were no other boats around.”

He watched her with fond amusement. “Was it stormy?”

“No.” She shook her head and her cheeks pinkened a little more. “It was fine. It was a beautiful day. But I panicked when I couldn’t see anything but water. I don’t know why. Everyone thought it was funny, but I was terrified.”

“Ah.” He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

“I felt like we were lost,” she said. “It’s so huge and endless, you could get lost so easily.”

“You can get lost anywhere.” You could get lost in life.

Their eyes met. “I know.”

Nate dragged his gaze away from her and back out to the ocean. “Kind of funny how all my pictures are of water.”

“But it’s calm water. I don’t know how you do that. Your pictures make me feel…I don’t know…soothed. Like the ocean is scary but it’s calming, too.”

“I use a really long exposure,” he murmured. “It smoothes out all the little ripples and waves on the water. Of course, I do wait until it’s very calm. Sometimes I wait days for the right conditions.”

“You’re very patient.”

“I guess.”

“Not like me.”

He grinned, hugged her gather. “No, definitely not like you, Miss I-Want-It-Now.”

She cuddled into him and smiled. He liked that she didn’t take herself too seriously.

“I guess we should head back,” he said, regret sliding through him.

It took them longer to get home than they’d anticipated and Derek was already there, for a change.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, irritation drawing his brows together.

“We went for a bike ride.” Krissa smiled down at her water-splotched sweater. “We walked out on the Breakwater and it was so fun! The waves were huge. And we went to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Derek looked from Krissa to Nate. “Well.”

Krissa glanced up and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Derek shook his head and scowled.

She studied him for a few seconds, then said, “I’ll go change and then make dinner.”

She started to walk away. “Krissa. Wait.” Nate stopped her. She turned and looked at him, brows raised.

“Don’t just walk away.”

Her eyes flickered. “What do you mean?”

Nate took a step toward her, stopped. “I mean, Derek is clearly pissed off about something. Make him tell you what it is.”

She licked her lips, eyes darting between him and Derek. Nate, too, shot a glance Derek’s way. His scowl had deepened. Then her eyes came back to Nate. “I don’t want to,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Their gaze held and he willed her to stand up to her husband, to not let him get away with acting like an asshole for no reason.

Krissa turned to Derek. “Okay. I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”

He said nothing. His jaw tightened.

“Oh, Derek.” Her shoulders relaxed and she went over to him, put her hands on his waist. “Just tell me. Are you mad at me about something? Because I wasn’t here with dinner ready when you got home?”

Derek looked away, shoved a hand into his hair. “No. Yes. I sound like a spoiled idiot.”

“Yes, you do.” She kissed his jaw. “Are you mad because Nate and I went out together?”

“That too.”

“We just went for a bike ride.”

“I know. I’m a jerk. You two can go have fun if you want. Although…when do you ever get any work done these days?”

She sighed. “I’ll do some work tonight for a few hours.”

Nate held in a groan. She’d been doing so well there. “Is that what you’d planned to do Krissa?”

She turned to him. She studied him. “Yes,” she finally said. “That’s what I’d planned. I need to get the proposal done.”

“Okay.” He didn’t want her doing it just because Derek thought she should. He wanted her to tell him she’d manage her work herself, but then, Nate was the one who’d gotten her into this, so maybe expecting her to stand up to Derek wasn’t fair.

“I dragged her with me, Derek,” he said. “She didn’t want to come. I thought it would be good for her—for both of us—to get out and get our minds off…you know.”

Derek nodded. He kissed Krissa’s forehead. “You’re right, Nate. I’m sorry. I guess I just felt left out. I was sitting in meetings all afternoon while you two were out having fun. But I’m glad you did.”

Nate saw Krissa inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She gave them both a quick smile. “Okay, now I’m going to get changed.”

He was sorry he’d pushed her. But then, not really so sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Krissa’d convinced him to go to the gallery showing in L.A. He’d rented a car, which gave him much more freedom to come and go as he wanted. Not that he had much to do. Driving during the day wasn’t a problem, but at night his eyes were still too sensitive to the oncoming headlights of cars and he obviously couldn’t wear dark glasses at night.

He’d gotten out and around town, visited some old friends and some old haunts, checked out some photography stores and galleries.

But the day before he was to leave for L.A., Krissa came to find him in the basement work-out room, where he bench-pressed ever increasing weights. He’d put on weight from eating Krissa’s cooking, and felt more like his old self physically. He’d fully recovered from the botulism, other than his goddamn eyes.

“I just did the ovulation test,” she announced, her brows drawn together over her small nose. “I’m supposed to ovulate in the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

“Oh. Great.”

“No, it’s not great. You’re going away. Just when we need to…uh…”

“Oh, yeah. Damn.” He lowered the weight and stared at her. “Well, I wasn’t that enthusiastic about going anyway.”

“But you should go. I said that before.” Her pretty mouth pouted and he could see her thinking.

“Well, then, the other option is you come with me.”

She tilted her head to one side. “I guess I could. I don’t have client meetings or anything until Monday next week. But what about Derek?”

“He should come too.”

“If we’re going to…”

He nodded. “Check with him, then.”

“We can talk about it tonight when he’s home.”

But Derek said he couldn’t take off for two days to go to L.A. “I’ve got things scheduled that I can’t move. I’m about to close a huge sale. I need to be here.”

“Oh.” Nate could read the disappointment on Krissa’s expressive face, her eyes cast down, mouth dipping at the corners.

“But you two go,” Derek said.

Krissa’s head shot up. “Really?”

The three of them all looked at each other for a long moment as they each weighed the implication of that. Krissa looked from Derek to Nate and back. Nate watched her, then looked at Derek.

Derek nodded. “Yeah. Go. Do what you have to do. It’s fine.”

“But we wanted you to be there when…” Krissa’s voice trailed off.

Derek shrugged. “I know. I want to be, too. But we don’t want to blow another opportunity and…” his gaze flicked back to Nate. “This might be the last chance.”

Nate had said nothing to Derek about leaving. Again, he felt that faint hint that Derek maybe wanted him gone. He wasn’t trying to convince him to stay any longer, that was for sure.

“Are you sure, Derek?” he asked quietly.

Derek was looking at Krissa, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

Nate’s gut tightened as he walked into Gallery 228 on Melrose Avenue.

The buzz of conversation mingled with cool jazz sax music in the über-stylish building. Gleaming golden wood floors met stark white walls.

He and Krissa paused in the foyer. He took a long breath. She reached for his hand and squeezed it.

“It’s fine,” she said.

He studied her. She wore a violet silk dress, strapless, with a big bow over her breasts that made him think about reaching out and tugging it. The dress skimmed over her slim body to just above her knees, and high-heeled barely-there sandals added a few inches to her height. With more makeup than she usually wore, she looked stunningly glamorous and sexy. She totally fit in with the hip urban vibe in the art gallery.

He’d had to dig deep into his bag for something to wear. The black jacket he’d pulled out had been wrinkled until he’d hung it in the steamy bathroom, an old trick learned while traveling. He wore it over dark jeans, with a loose white linen shirt and a thin scarf draped loosely around his neck. He hadn’t been sure about the jeans, but hey, he was an artist, he could get away with it.

“Nate!” Greg greeted him, a drink in his hand. He put out his free hand to shake Nate’s. “So glad you could make it!”

Nate shook Greg’s hand, taking in the owner of Gallery 228 in his gold velvet jacket and skinny black pants.

“Greg, this is my friend Krissa. Krissa, Greg Boscoe.”

Krissa shook hands with Greg with a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

Greg eyed her and gave Nate an approving look. “Likewise. Come on in. I’ll get you a drink and then introduce you around.”

He led them into the gallery. People crowded the long space, standing in front of the images hung on the wall, artfully lit with small spotlights hanging from the exposed beams of the ceiling. Experimentally, Nate removed his dark glasses. He blinked. As long as he stayed out of the direct illumination of the lights, it wasn’t too bad in there, despite all the white reflecting around him. He tucked the glasses into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Nate’s eyes went to the first image—his photographs of fishing docks he’d taken in Thailand. A thrill of pride rushed through him at the display of his work and all the people there to see it. He glanced at Krissa and she gave him an excited smile with a hitch of one bare shoulder. He reached for her hand and took it in his, held it as they followed Greg to the bar at the back of the gallery.

“This is very cool,” she murmured to him.

“I guess.”

When they each had a glass of Merlot in their hand, Greg began introducing them to other guests.

“And this is my partner, Denzel,” Greg said, sliding an arm around the man. “He adores your work, Nate.”

Nate shook hands with Denzel. “Thanks.”

“What’s up for you next?” Greg asked. “You’ve been back in the States for a while now. No more traveling?”

Here came the stuff he’d been dreading—the questions, the curiosity…the pity. “Not sure,” he murmured. “I’ve been taking some time off. I haven’t made plans yet.”

“I heard you were going to be working on a book. That’s so exciting!”

“Mmm. Well, that got put on hold for a while. Not sure when I’ll get back to that.” He didn’t know if he’d ever get back to that. But he wasn’t about to say that. Krissa squeezed his hand, and he felt taller. Stronger.

“If you’re still interested in doing a book, you should meet Blake Remata. He works for Zenith Publishing. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Nate and Krissa followed Greg to another group of people where he performed more introductions. Meeting another publisher was great, except Nate still had no idea if he was ever going to be able to photograph again. Although…his eyes roamed around the room. It wasn’t exceptionally bright in there, but nor was it dark. His eyes felt surprisingly good without the glasses.

They mingled and chatted, drank more wine.

“You have such a sense of composition,” one woman told him.

“I love the minimalism,” another guest said. “It’s almost Zen-like. Beautiful balance. Harmony.”

Nate absorbed all the compliments and praise for his work. His ego had been battered lately and all the adulation helped build him up. And having Krissa at his side made it all that much better. She squeezed his hand or his arm at every accolade, and the look of pride on her face was worth more than every word of praise from someone else.

He loved having her at his side. Some warm emotion washed over him and he pulled her away from the crowd, off to the side. He set his wine glass down on a table, put his hands on her hips.

She smiled up at him, and he took her wineglass, too and set it next to his. Her hands came to rest on his chest. He pulled her against him, pelvis to pelvis.

“What?” she asked.

He lifted a hand to stroke her hair, push it behind one bare shoulder. She looked so beautiful tonight, glowing and proud and sexy. He couldn’t wait to get her back to the hotel room and fuck her mindless. His dick leaped at the thought.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He bent his head but stopped with his mouth a breath apart from hers. “You’re gorgeous, Krissa. Thank you for coming with me.”

Her eyelids drifted closed as she waited for his mouth to touch hers, and then, over her shoulder Nate saw a group of people he knew walk into the gallery. People he knew very well.

He lifted his head.

“Nate!” His mother spotted him, put out her arms and made a beeline across the room to him. “Oh, Nate!”

Oh, Christ.

Krissa opened her eyes and turned in his arms. Nate’s first impulse was to push her away from him. But it was too late for that. His entire family trailed along behind his mother and had already seen him in the heated clinch with Krissa. Jesus.

He gently stepped apart from her, and moved her to his side. She tossed a questioning glance at him, and he gave her a crooked smile, then turned to his mother as she threw herself into his arms.

He’d forgotten what a little thing she was. He’d been bigger than her since he was twelve. Something twisted inside him and he hugged his mother, whom he hadn’t seen for over two years. He looked over her head as his father and two brothers, along with their escorts, approached.

His dad smiled, but his eyes were wary and he appeared to be fighting his emotions. Both his brothers looked—annoyed.

He greeted them all with hugs and back slaps, a big family reunion he hadn’t planned on having here at Gallery 228.

“Nate, this is my girlfriend, Tara,” his brother Bryan introduced them. His other brother, Rich, presented his girlfriend Helen and Nate then introduce Krissa to everyone. His parents eyed her with interest, their gaze dropping to Nate and Krissa’s clasped hands as they stood there. Then Nate’s mom spotted the ring on Krissa’s left hand.

“Oh my God!” she cried, reaching for Krissa’s hand. “Nate, did you get married? And not tell us?”