Shelby found me, champagne in hand, and gave me another enthusiastic hug.
“Evie, these photos are incredible. You’ve done such phenomenal work in LA,” her eyes continued to wander around the room, taking in all the photos that hung from the wall.
“You saw that one, right?” I asked, pointing to the wall on the east side of the building. Hanging there was a large print of the photo I’d taken of her at the falls just weeks before I left town.
“I did see it,” she said with a smile. “I also saw the little sticker next to it that indicated it had been sold.” Her voice was nearly at a squeal.
A new wave of emotions rushed over me. While talking with all the exciting people about what my next step as a photographer would be, and where my art would take me, I’d totally forgotten that my work was for sale. If I sold even a few pieces at the prices posted, I would be set for months.
“Are you serious?” I balked.
“Totally. I saw quite a few stickers already. You’re doing fantastic!”
Another server walked by and we grabbed more champagne, quietly toasting, my smile growing wider by the minute. I kept Shelby near me, glad to have a friend there, and we slowly made our way through the gallery. I accepted compliments with as much grace as I could muster, feeling my cheeks heat every time someone said something I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear.
“You’re a magnificent artist.”
“The way your photographs capture light, it’s amazing.”
“Where have you been hiding? Your work is incredible.”
I was floating on a cloud of realized dreams and bubbly champagne when I suddenly felt the hairs on the nape of my neck raise, standing straight up, and goose bumps spreading across my skin.
“You’re a difficult woman to get ahold of.”
I heard his wonderfully deep and gravelly voice from behind me and my breath caught in my lungs. My mouth parted, waiting for words that weren’t anywhere near ready to come. I registered Shelby’s wide eyes, but I was too focused on all the exciting responses my body was having to his voice to care.
My heart rate thundered through my veins, my breath started moving in shallow pants, and every nerve in my body was tingling with just the sound of his voice. I felt him step up closer, his front barely brushing my back, and I had to fight every instinct to lean into him.
“This one is my favorite,” he said, his voice a low whisper, his hand coming up, finger pointing toward a photo on the wall a few feet in front of us. My eyes were trained on his hand. His skin was tanned, palms looking rough and worn, but he was obviously strong. Then, my gaze moved to the photo he was pointing at and I felt a small smile pull on the corner of my mouth.
It was one of my favorites too.
A black and white image of a man, standing atop an unusual, yet amazing, formation of naturally fallen logs. Even though it was a black and white image, the sunlight was flooding the frame, making his face impossible to see, but illuminating every other part of him.
“That was one of my most favorite days,” I managed to whisper. I remembered that hike, remembered him fondly, and thought of him often.
“Mine too,” he whispered so close to my ear I could feel his breath passing over my cheek. I turned my head slightly, and took in his incredibly handsome face with bright eyes smiling down at me. He was just as I remembered him. Dark hair, a little unruly, deep brown eyes, arresting smile.
“What are you doing here?”
“My favorite photographer announced on her website a few months ago that she was going to open her own gallery. I made it a point to come and support her. She’s an incredible artist.”
“Nate,” I whispered, unable to make it past his name, overcome by his sweetness and the absolute shock of seeing him again. Something in my belly flipped at the thought of him looking at my website, of him thinking about me after not seeing each other for years.
He stepped around me so we were face to face, and his thumb and forefinger gently gripped my chin, his touch light and comforting. “How’ve you been, Lyn?” His eyes sparkled with his question, his smile widening. He was the only person who ever called me Lyn, and I liked it. So much. Too much.
“Good,” I breathed. “I’ve been good.”
“Hmmm. I can tell.” His words flowed through me, my eyes drinking in the beauty of his face right in front of me. His hand moved to my shoulder, then slid softly down my arm until my fingers were in his hand. He lifted my left hand up and examined it, running his thumb over my ring finger. “You’re not wearing a wedding ring, and I haven’t seen any men lingering near you. Is it possible you’re single?”
“She’s totally single,” Shelby offered from behind me, her voice way too enthusiastic for the message she was delivering. I rolled my eyes.
“Thanks, Shelby,” I laughed, but then turned back to Nate. “I still can’t believe you’re even here. I never really thought I would see you again.”
“I don’t want to monopolize you on your big night, but I was hoping we could catch up later.”
“Um, sure,” I said softly, realizing I was a little disappointed he wouldn’t be monopolizing me. “But you’ll hang around?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, squeezing my hand one more time before stepping away toward the bar. I couldn’t take my eyes from the man who I had only seen in clothes fit for hiking or construction, now standing before me in an incredibly sexy suit, complete with slick, skinny black tie. My mind was whirling, wondering what in the world he was doing there.
“Did you tell him about this?” I asked Shelby as soon as Nate was out of earshot.
“Absolutely not. I haven’t seen him since that one time in your studio back home. I can’t believe he showed up here, all hot for you, checking out your ring finger. He’s on a mission, Evie.”
My eyes flitted back to him, standing at the bar, back to me. A considerably large part of me wanted to stare at him for the rest of the evening. My body was remembering, slowly, the one real date we’d had, the one kiss we’d shared under that waterfall, and the way it had made me feel. Before my thoughts could carry me too far away, I was being beckoned by Sylvia to chat with an editor of LA Times, wanting to do a story on my photographs and me, so I had to put my work face back on.
My body, however, was always aware of Nate. So much so, it seemed to vibrate with the awareness. I knew where he was at all times: which photos he was looking at, which people he was talking to, which corner of the gallery he was standing in, watching me from afar. It was the most brutal and beautiful form of torture. As much as I was aware of him, he definitely seemed to be tracking me as well. Electricity flowed between us like a hot current, and I was surprised people inside the gallery weren’t fanning themselves. I found my cheeks warm and my core even warmer. My belly clenched every time we made eye contact, my breath caught when I saw him taking in one of my photos. I’d never experienced foreplay from a room apart, but what was happening between us definitely qualified.
I sipped cool champagne, trying to calm myself. Obviously, my body was on high alert, suffering from withdrawals. I’d only gone on a few dates since moving to LA, and definitely hadn’t slept with anyone. And it had been a long while since I’d slept with anyone even before the move. I was in a serious dry spell and my mind was telling my body to prepare.
I was almost embarrassed. He’d said twenty words to me. He could have been in a relationship for all I knew. But deep down I knew he wouldn’t have come to my show, especially alone, if he’d been in a relationship. Regardless, my body was onboard and primed to devour his.
Despite the distraction of Nate, I managed to put on a good show. I spoke with many important people who could all have a significant impact on my career path, and I felt as though I’d made a good impression on everyone. Overall, it seemed to be quite a successful night. It was easy to keep a smile on my face as people began to leave, showering me with compliments and congratulations.
My eyes wandered to Nate an
d I saw him talking with Shelby, both of them stealing glances my way. I didn’t know what she would have to say to him, but I wasn’t too worried about it; Shelby had always been a good friend. I watched as she leaned forward and pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek, and then made her way back to me.
“I’m beat. I’m going back to my hotel.” She opened her arms to me, wrapping me up in a hug and whispered in my ear, “I’m so proud of you, Evie. You’ve accomplished so much since you’ve been here. Now, let that man love on you a little.”
I laughed, not at all surprised by her forward demand.
“Thank you for coming,” I said as I pulled back from her embrace. “It means a lot that you were here. Make sure you call me before you head home so we can get coffee or lunch.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, but not too early,” she said with a sassy wink.
I gave her a natural, warm smile as she left, feeling particularly lucky to have made such a good friend in her. As a few more people left, I felt the tension in the room grow between Nate and me. Soon enough, there were just ten or so people with us. My breath stalled when I saw him making his way to me, a small glass of amber liquid in his hands.
“Hi,” he said, his smile easy and sexy.
“Hey,” I breathed, a peculiar combination of relaxation and anxiousness coming over me. Something about him calmed me and amped me up simultaneously.
“I’m sorry I ambushed you.” He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquor in it slightly. “I should have reached out to you and told you I was coming, or even asked if it was all right for me to be here.” I smiled, not really knowing how to respond. If he had told me he was coming, I would have been even more nervous than I was before. And even though his presence was distracting, it wasn’t unwelcome. Not at all. “I was pretty sure if I called, well, I was sure something would have kept me from coming to you.”
I felt my eyebrows draw together and a confused expression pass over my face. “What do you mean?”
“I thought if I called, you’d either tell me you were married or dating someone, or worse, tell me you didn’t remember me.” He shrugged. “I just thought something would keep me away. After I never heard from you…” His voice trailed off and I could tell he was waiting for me to start explaining myself, to give him some sort of information about my life and how it had changed since we saw each other last.
“Nate, I have to close up the gallery,” I said with regret. “But, can we talk about everything? How long are you in town?”
He ran his free hand through his hair and I remembered, instantly and with arousing detail, what his hair felt like between my fingers. “I didn’t buy a return ticket,” he said, not looking me in the eye.
Excitement shot through me, followed quickly by apprehension.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t abandon my life to come to LA. I wasn’t sure what I would find when I got here, so I wanted to be able to either go right back to the airport and fly home, or stay a few days if things worked out.”
“Abandoning life and coming to LA worked out pretty well for me,” I said, smiling again. “But we can talk about that too. Tomorrow, maybe? Where are you staying?”
He laughed at my question. “I’m not sure yet. Know any good hotels in the area?”
“Are you serious? You don’t have a hotel room somewhere? It’s Friday night in LA. The only places you’ll be able to find an available room are places you don’t want to be.”
“Again, I wasn’t sure what my plan would be. I’ve got a rental car and a suitcase.”
“I have a spare bedroom. You can stay with me if you’d like.” The offer was out of my mouth before the words had even formed in my mind. The majority of my brain was eagerly hoping he would accept, that I would have unlimited access to him until he went home, whenever that would be. The idea of him in my home was causing warmth to spread through me, laced with excitement. But a tiny part of me was screaming, albeit quietly, to not invite practical strangers to my house for an undetermined amount of time.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose. Honestly, I thought I’d come here and find a good reason to turn around and go home.”
“Do you want to go home?” Please don’t say you want to go home.
His eyes remained on mine, not blinking, and he softly said, “I don’t want to go home yet.”
“Okay then, you can come stay with me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Present Day
I’d spent the entire drive back to my townhouse wondering who in their right mind invited perfect strangers to stay in their house. Granted, Nate wasn’t actually a stranger. I’d been on a date with him once upon a time. And he had travelled all the way to see me and my gallery show. And, if I were being completely honest with myself, after our date two years ago, had I stayed in town, I probably would have slept with him. After that one date, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would have waited.
But things happened and my life changed course and in that moment, I was standing on my porch trying to use trembling fingers to unlock my door while I could feel the heat from Nate’s body standing deliciously close to me.
“Let me,” I heard his deep timbre voice say just before his hand clasped over mine, taking the key from me, and effortlessly unlocking my door. He pushed it open and I turned back to him with a smile.
“Thank you. I’m still a little keyed up from the show.” I led him inside, closing the door behind him.
“This is a great place,” he said, turning in a slow circle, taking in my home.
“It’s not as decorated as I would like it to be, but I’ve been really busy pretty much since I moved here.”
“I see you found time to hang some photos though,” he said, still smiling. He’d been smiling practically the entire night and the sight of his smile, easy and sexy all at once, and his body encased in his gorgeous suit, with his eyes and his hair, in my house…well…it was nearly overwhelming.
I laughed a little, trying not to be completely obvious that his mere presence had me nervous and excited. “Hanging photos was the first thing I did. I had pictures up before I had my bed put together.” I flipped on the light switch at the entrance of the kitchen and walked to the refrigerator. “Would you like something to drink? I’ve got a bottle of wine, but that’s about it.”
“Water would be great.” He followed me into the kitchen, his eyes still roaming around my space as if he was looking for clues or information about me based on my living space. He’d be sorely disappointed; my house didn’t say much about me besides the fact that I wasn’t there a lot.
I opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to him. He took it, and then proceeded to unscrew the lid and bring the bottle to his mouth, taking long, thick swallows. It was too much for me to watch, so I let my eyes wander down his front, taking in the way his chest just barely fit into his suit. His arms snuggly filled the sleeves of his jacket as well.
I had to say something to distract myself from everything about him that was enticingly sexy.
“I need to go in to the gallery tomorrow. There will be a lot of people trying to get in contact with me, so it’s best I’m there for the day. I’m sorry. I don’t want to abandon you.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m the one who totally ambushed you.”
I turned around quickly, reached into my junk drawer, and pulled out my spare key.
“Why don’t you take this,” I said, holding out the key for him. “You can leave the house and go do whatever you want and still be able to get back in.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, tentatively taking it from me.
“Definitely,” I said with an assertive nod. “Here, let me show you to the spare bedroom.” I practically jumped away from the counter, making sure I passed by him without letting our bodies brush against each other. Looking at him was torture enough. To accidentally press myself against him and then have to pull myself away again was more than I could handle.
>
I started up the stairs and could feel the heat of his gaze on my backside. I knew, without a doubt, my red silken dress made my ass look outstanding. I’d purchased it mainly for that exact reason. My body was alight with the idea of him taking in the sight of it. I simply couldn’t handle the tension, couldn’t deal with him and me, alone, in my house, with me in my ‘come and fuck me’ dress and him in a ‘you know you want to come and fuck me’ suit. It was just too much.
“Here you are,” I said, my voice too breathy, chest rising and falling too quickly. My arm, out slightly, was motioning toward the open door, but he didn’t go in. No, he stopped when his body was right in front of mine. My eyes, naturally meeting his chest, followed his tie up to his face, and when our eyes met, he didn’t look away.
“Looks fantastic.”
He was so close I could smell him. When his fingertips wrapped around my hip, my mouth fell open and a tiny whimper escaped me. His grip tightened and he pulled me even closer to him. I had to tilt my head even farther to keep my eyes trained on his.
“You look fantastic. You feel fantastic. Lyn, Christ, I’ve been thinking about you for two years.”
His words sent a slight panic through me. He’d been thinking about me for two years? Flattering as it was, it was also a little overwhelming. I’d compartmentalized my old life when I drove out of town. I’d made a conscious decision to leave it all behind. Sure, I still spoke to the kids, and Shelby was still my friend, but it was almost necessary for me to start over to move forward. He must have sensed my unease because his intent stare turned into a questioning look.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” he said, taking a small step backward, his hand leaving my hip, my body shouting at me not to let him back away. I could feel the pull to keep his hand on me, to reach up and pull on his jacket so our bodies were pressed together, but I ignored the impulse and took my own step backward.
“It’s been a really long day and I think I just need to go to bed.”
The Absence of Olivia Page 21