A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3)

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A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3) Page 6

by Lowe, T. I.


  This photo also summons a whole other set of emotions. At first I think to look away from the intimacy captured as though I am imposing on a very private moment. This image captures a man’s well-formed bare chest with a woman pressing her lips over his heart. Her very light hair is in a romantic updo that seems to be slowly escaping, obscuring the view of her face. Her only exposed feature is her lips. The photo begins at the man’s shoulders and ends at his waist where the woman’s delicate hand rests. His hand gently holds her to him by the back of her head.

  “You get lost back here?” JP whispers, causing me to jump anyway. This man’s voice is too rugged to hold a whisper properly. I turn around and see him sitting in a chair by the door. I’ve been completely wrapped up in the hidden stories of these photos, I have no idea how long he’s been here watching me.

  I point to the photo in front of me. “Umm… Wow…. This photo is pretty…sensual.” I want to say erotic, but blush at the thought of using such a word.

  JP stands beside me and admires the picture. “It is at first glance, but if that’s all you’ve seen in all this time you’ve been standing here studying it, then you’ve missed it.” He nudges me a bit closer. “Look again.”

  I do and find the woman’s lip resting on a thick scar. “I can’t imagine what would cause that. Some type of cut, maybe—”

  JP huffs out in annoyance. “Don’t focus on what’s behind the scar. Focus on what’s before it.”

  I look again for another long spell. “The scar brought them together,” I murmur as I look on.

  “Something like that.” JP answers and becomes quiet for a while before asking, “You realize you’ve been back here for over an hour?”

  “These photos have so much to tell.” I shrug.

  “This is my family album for the next two weeks.” He motions to the wall and walks over to the pregnant one and explains each picture briefly. “This is of my younger sister when she was pregnant. It was a day at the beach. She was watching her husband surf and I was watching her.” He points to the baby. “This is my handsome nephew she delivered a few weeks after the first photo was taken. He’s the man all the way.” He chuckles before explaining, “Not even three shots into the photo shoot, he peed all over his dad’s hands.”

  “I love both of them. I love how you captured her silhouette only. And how you explain the dad’s pride with only showing his hands.”

  JP nods his head in appreciation before pointing to the next photo. “These are of my hands. I set up the camera on a tripod and set the timer. I stayed up all night playing with different angles, not satisfied with any of them. I gave up when the sun showed up and didn’t even look at the shots for a few weeks. When I did, this one spoke to me.”

  “It makes me hurt,” I comment as I continue to stare at the hands.

  “Hurt?”

  I glance over and find JP looking at me curiously. “I feel hurt when I look at it. Is that what you were trying to achieve?”

  He looks back at the photo and shakes his head. “I don’t know…” Without another comment, JP steps over to the brothers. “And this one? What does this one make you feel?”

  “Much happier.” I smile over at him and he rewards me with a faint one of his own.

  “These two are also my nephews. This was another family day at the beach a couple of years ago.”

  “Are they from an older sibling?”

  “No. They belong to Savannah and her husband, Lucas.” Before I can ask, because I’m pretty sure she is way too young to have older children, JP clarifies. “They are adopted.”

  “Oh,” I remark as I follow him to the last photo.

  “And this is my older sister’s wedding portrait.” He points the very edge of the photo. “You can just see the edge of her strapless gown. I started out doing traditional wedding shots, but she put up with that for all of five minutes before stripping her husband’s tuxedo shirt off.” He pauses to chuckle at the private memory. “Those two are professional models so you can imagine regular ole portraits wouldn’t cut it. That scar is very significant to their relationship, so Julia insisted on including it.”

  I look closer at his sister’s almost hidden face when recognition clicks. “Julia Rose is your sister?” I give him a good looking at and find the resemblance immediately.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, my gracious. I’ve seen her and Greyson Stone in runway shows before. He’s her husband, right?” I look at the exposed chest once again.

  JP just gives me another, “Yep.”

  “Wow. That’s just… Wow.”

  “So you’re into fashion, too?” He looks at me skeptically. Today my wardrobe is nothing spectacular—plain jeans and a bohemian top.

  “My mom is the fashion diva. I’ve retired from it. I heard Greyson and Julia are retired from it as well.”

  “Pretty much. Julia only agrees to a few contracts a year.”

  I move the subject on, since it doesn’t seem to be a favorite of JP’s. I motion back to his hand portrait. “I like how you center yourself in the middle so that you are surrounded by your family.”

  “That’s how I always want it,” he says softly. He looks over the photos briefly before strolling out of the alcove and I follow behind him. “Okay, so tomorrow is Sunday, which is my only day off. I’m heading to Bay Creek and won’t be back until tomorrow night. You think you’ll manage not to burn the place down or anything until I can get back?”

  I roll my eyes. “I think I can manage.”

  “Good.” He pulls a key and a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s a set of keys and the security code. We’ll figure out what I’m supposed to do with you on Monday.”

  I watch him leave and mutter an, “Okay.”

  It’s already dusk out, so now I’m stuck here for another night. Alone. I know I’m a big girl and I’m used to being home most of the time alone, but this is different. I’m in a new place. I decide to walk next door and try out the café for supper. It’s pretty good and has a substantial menu to choose from. That’s good news, if I’m going to be stuck here for the summer.

  Being alone feels strange. For some reason I had pictured the photographer becoming my buddy and wanting nothing more than to talk about the photo world with me. Wrong. Mine has his own life and I feel as though I’m nothing more than an intruder forced upon him.

  At these thoughts, I start to feel choked up again so I leave most of my pasta untouched and head back to the gallery. I unlock the door, enter and relock behind myself. I feel a presence immediately and think it’s Hope. I call out into the dark space. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  A deep male voice answers as a light switches on overhead, causing me to let out a bloodcurdling scream. He’s in front of me before I know it, so I start swinging my fists in hysteria.

  He gathers both my hands by the wrists and actually laughs. “Knock it off, Willow, before you hurt yourself.”

  It’s Duke.

  Knowing he’s the one who scared me makes me want to punch him more. “You trying to scare me to death?”

  “You knew I was here.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then who were you talking to?”

  “Myself,” I say defensively. I yank my hands free.

  “Nothing new there.” He laughs. Yes, Duke has caught me talking to myself, aka Hope, a few times. He thinks I’m weird and vice versa.

  “What are you doing here and how’d you get in?”

  “I live in the apartment out back. And I have a key to the gallery.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew JP?” I pop him one more time for good measure.

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t think you would accept the internship if you thought I did it as a handout.”

  A handout for me? Now that’s a new concept. “You put this internship together?”

  He shrugs again, and that shrug tells me he did in fact orchestrate it. “Savannah handled all of the legal junk. All I h
ad to do was get you to fill the forms out. I’m honored you included a photo of me.” He winks, and then quickly turns thoughtful. “JP seriously needs some help. He’s too stubborn to admit it.”

  “So you thought it was a good idea to offer me as free help for the summer?”

  “Look, Willow, JP is the best when it comes to photography. You won’t learn better from anyone else. You’ve seen his work.” Duke motions around the gallery at all of the breathtaking art adorning the walls. He’s absolutely right.

  “Thank you for setting this up for me. And… Sorry for punching you.”

  Duke smirks as he rubs his chest. “Someone taught you to fight for sure.”

  “My dad,” I say proudly. “He took me to self-defense classes when I was eleven. He said no man was ever allowed to touch me without my permission. He wanted me to know how to properly relay that message to any guy who thought otherwise.”

  “I should probably warn JP to keep his hands to himself.” He chuckles.

  “Does he have trouble keeping his hands to himself?” I ask, concerned.

  “Not after I warn him, he won’t.”

  Well, this doesn’t make me feel any better. Maybe I should have taken my dad up on his offer for a self-defense refresher. Dad… Thinking about my dad is seriously making me homesick.

  Duke picks up on this and steps closer. “You okay?”

  “Sure,” I mumble while taking a closer look at him. “Are you wearing eyeliner?” He rubs his fingers under his eye and I see he is wearing black nail polish as well. “And nail polish?”

  “I had a hot date last night?”

  “And your hot date, she liked all this?” I wave my hand in front of him.

  “Oh yeah,” he says with much satisfaction. “We went to a concert and didn’t get back in ‘til four this morning. I just woke up.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to never sleep in your makeup?” I tease.

  He rubs at his eyes again, making the smudges worse. “I can’t get this junk off.”

  I head to the stairs and wave for him to follow. “Come on. I think I have something that’ll clean it off.” We walk into my room and I motion for him to sit in a dining chair. I head over to my toiletry bag and rummage around until I find a tube of makeup remover and a Q-tip.

  I angle Duke’s head and rub the Q-tip underneath his eye. The makeup remover on it easily removes the dark smudges.

  “You don’t even wear makeup,” Duke comments as he eyes the tube of makeup remover.

  “I thought I tossed it with my makeup, but it somehow ended up with my stuff.” I’m guessing that is another interference by my angel. Once I’m done, I look over his handsome face. I touch my fingertip to the studs in his eyebrow and then the lip ring. “Why all of this?”

  “I’m trying to discover myself. Does it bother you?” His dark eyebrows pinch together, with what I worry is hurt.

  “Of course not. I’m just trying to understand it. Ten years down the road, what happens when the person you find yourself being doesn’t want this anymore?” I touch the tattoo on his neck and he captures my hand to keep it there.

  “This tattoo is the reason why I’m not worrying about tomorrow. Tomorrow is not a promise.” He releases my hand.

  I sit in the chair next to him as we both ingest the significance of his words. He is absolutely right. I do understand, more than he realizes, and I feel close to tears. We sit in silence for a while until Duke tries to make a poorly-timed joke.

  “Well…” He begins, causing me to look up. He is crossing his legs and taking on a prissy demeanor full of dramatic uppity sass. “I just don’t get you weird peoples.” Duke tsks as he sticks his nose in the air. “Tattoos, piercings, and colored hair.” He’s mocking me and I’m not taking too kindly to it. “Some of us more privileged society folks already know who we are as soon as we are weaned from our silver spoons.”

  The tears slip down my face quietly. “I wasn’t judging you, Duke.”

  “But you did before we got to know each other.”

  “You judged me just as well.” I swipe the tears away as anger washes over me. “You don’t know me. I was so lost this time last year that I didn’t even know I was in the world.” I stand up, getting more defensive. “Since then, I’ve thrown my makeup away, tossed my wardrobe and started over. I’ve thrown away college years just to change my major, and now I’ve moved out on my own for the first time.” The quiet tears have now become an outright bout of sobs. “I’m trying to find myself too and I’m scared!”

  Duke falls to the floor and lunges for my legs. He wraps his arms around them and wails out theatrically. “Please, Willow! Please, don’t cry. I can’t take it!” He sobs dramatically, causing my tears to cease immediately.

  I pop him upside his purple head, but this is why I love this strange dude so much. His wisdom slaps me in the face in one beat, and then the next, his wicked sense of humor comforts the sting.

  We are both laughing as he stands up and gives me a big hug. The subject is quickly dropped and we move on. I like how Duke doesn’t dwell too long on something either. Maybe that goes back to the unsureness of tomorrow.

  He begins guiding me back down the stairs. “Come on. Let me show you where my place is so you’ll know where to find me when JP gets to be too much of a pain.”

  “So the two of you are family?”

  “Yep,” he answers before leading me out the back door.

  I don’t ask for any further explanation. There’s a story for sure, but I won’t pull it out of him. I know he has a younger brother in Bay Creek, but he doesn’t like to talk about personal matters. And I can’t blame him, since I don’t either. My parents are divorcing because my mom ran off with the plumber—enough said. I’m glad he doesn’t want to do the whole family sharing.

  This is the first time I’ve seen the back lot of the gallery. It’s a pretty spacious layout with four parking spaces and a basketball goal. “Can I start parking back here? Parking out front is a pain.”

  “I don’t see why not.” Duke opens the door to what I’m guessing used to be a garage that has been turned into a studio apartment. He flips on the lights and I’m surprised at the neat orderly space, but what blows me completely away are the concrete walls. They are completely covered in vivid murals. There are several different scenes weaving into one another—a beach, mountains, a night sky, a forest, some random swirls and patterns…

  “Oh wow…” I walk around the room in an art trance as I try to take it all in. I’m overwhelmed. This is complete sensory overload. I’ve made it halfway around the space, when I look back at Duke. He’s still standing by the door watching me. “Your gift is just so incredible, Duke.”

  He shrugs his shoulders shyly as though he’s not sure of himself. “So you like it?”

  “No. Like doesn’t do any justice to how in love I am with these murals.” I smile over at him and he returns it with relief. How can this guy not see how amazing this is?

  Duke plops down on his black leather couch and I eventually go over and join him. I will definitely be back another day with my camera. “What’s your summer plans?” I ask, hoping he will be around.

  “I start two classes on Monday. That’s about it.”

  “My class is Tuesday and Thursday,” I comment. This disappoints me.

  “You’ll see me enough around here.” He bumps into my shoulder with his.

  “I’m really glad. Thanks again for setting the internship up.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I just don’t think JP likes me too much,” I admit as I study the wall in front of us that resembles a mysterious forest.

  “He’ll warm up to you. Just give him some time.” Duke tries to reassure me, but I’m not so sure…

  Chapter Ten

  The weekend wasn’t so bad. I spent most of Sunday with my dad. First we attended church and then we went out to eat at the Beach Club for a late brunch. Before we parted ways, he briefly mentioned the divor
ce proceedings were being handled. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but he played it off as best he could. I made it back to the gallery well before dark and immediately headed over to Duke’s apartment. We spent a chunk of the night watching movies and really bad reality TV.

  I’m not sure when JP got in, but he is here this morning. He has been busy in his office for the last hour now and still hasn’t acknowledged my presence. I know he knows I’m here. I keep walking past his door, asking if he needs anything, but he seems distracted.

  I’ve reached my patience limit and am now sitting in his office in the spare chair in front of his desk. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since he walked in here and his cellphone keeps dinging with new messages over and over. I’m thinking he is in dire need of a secretary and not a student intern. He keeps the doors to the gallery closed on Mondays, but that doesn’t mean he’s not at work.

  I clear my throat and ask, “You decided what to do with me yet?” He looks up abruptly and peers at me from underneath the ball cap pushed low over his eyes. I think my question came out sharper than I had meant so I smile weakly, trying to soften it.

  JP motions over his piled-up desk. “I got a lot of work to catch up on this morning. I don’t have time to figure out what to do with you.”

  “Well, I’m sick of staring at you, so how about giving me something to do that will be more productive than that.” I cross my arms in agitation.

  He lets out a long sigh of frustration and eyes a stack of storage containers. He considers them for a few more beats as he rubs the side of his neck. “Those pictures need to be filed. I’ve been too busy taking them to do any of this stuff. File them or not. I really don’t care.” He turns back to his gigantic computer screen and goes back to editing a photo of an erupting volcano.

  I get up and go over to inspect the top container and sure enough, it is loaded with photos. Overwhelmed, I pull open the filing cabinet drawer and find it empty except for a box of new folders. “Just how am I supposed to make enough sense of this mess to even begin to file it?”

 

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