Romance in Color

by Synithia Williams

  “I’m getting a little hungry if you are,” he said. “We have another five hours or so, and I could stand to stretch my legs and grab a bite to eat.”

  “Absolutely.”

  He pulled into a McDonald’s. They got out, stretched their legs, ordered burgers, and made a pit-stop to the bathroom. Winona sipped on a Diet Coke while Jake drummed his fingers on the table.

  “Are you okay?” Winona asked.

  “Yes. You?”

  “Great.” She stared at the condensation on her cup, unsure how to offer him comfort.

  “I’m a little stressed,” Jake finally admitted. “Worried about Amy, obviously. I wish Lillian would have let her come back with us. I’m worried what might happen in the next three weeks and then I feel silly because you’re right when you say Lillian is her mother. And she’s been staying with Lillian since the break-up a few months ago. Of course, Brandon had her practically every weekend but still. I just …” He shrugged. “I worry. I appreciate everything Garret did to convince Lillian to let Amy spend a couple of weeks with me. And you.” He stopped drumming his fingers. “I appreciate you coming, staying with me, visiting with Amy yesterday. Going to the police and talking to them.”

  His smile tightened her stomach. She offered one in return.

  “The lieutenant seems like a straight-up guy, but this Rogers guy, he worries me,” Winona confessed.

  “Yeah? Me, too.”

  “I’ll stay on them. I’ll bypass the detective and go straight to the lieutenant.”

  “Yeah, he sure was into you. Maybe you’ll get a date out of it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He winked but she wasn’t certain he was teasing.

  Their order came out, and they didn’t finish their conversation. Winona didn’t press him to say what was on his mind. Jake dumped salt and pepper and ketchup on his fries, then tore at his food. Winona tried to eat, tried not to dwell on the pain she knew he was feeling about having to leave Amy. The fact she had no idea what to do next. They ate in silence.

  They were almost finished eating when a boy approached. Tall, lanky, with wild blond hair. “Excuse me,” he said to Jake as he held out a sports magazine. “Could I get your autograph?”

  Winona recognized the cover of Jake on his bike. The article had come out a few months ago, and Jake had been candid about his past addiction in hopes he could help the younger generation pursue athleticism instead of drugs and alcohol.

  “Absolutely.” Jake wiped his hands on his napkin. The boy, prepared, handed him a pen. “What’s your name?”

  “Keith Landers.”

  “That’s a good, strong name. What do you enjoy doing?”

  “I love my bike. And I love to swim. I don’t much care to run. I’m also into strength training. My dad says I’m a beanpole, so I’m trying to build muscle.”

  “Look like you’re doing a good job, man,” he said. Winona knew he liked to talk to people, kids especially, in hopes he’d inspire them. If he asked the right questions, he’d figure out what one thing to write with his autograph that might stay with them forever.

  “What about school? What’s your favorite subject?”

  “I like science and chemistry.”

  “What grade will you be in?”

  “I’ll be a junior.”

  “Awesome. You thinking about college?”

  Keith shrugged. “I don’t know, man.”

  “Well, hey, start looking into grants you might qualify for. Even scholarships.”

  Jake scribbled a few words and handed it to Keith. Admiration filled Winona as she watched him.

  “Thanks. Can I get a picture?”

  “Sure.” He glanced at Winona. “Do you mind?” He scooted over to give the boy room to sit beside him. Keith turned his phone on his camera and handed it to Winona. Jake propped his hand on Keith’s shoulder and smiled for the camera.

  Winona shot the picture and glanced at the photo before handing it over. “Awesome.”

  Keith took the phone and studied the picture. “Thanks.” He nodded at Winona and smiled sheepishly. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Oh.” Keith stopped and turned. “Sorry about your cousin.”

  Jake shielded his grief with a smile and a nod. As Keith walked away, he dunked a fry in ketchup as Winona watched him. She felt she was getting good at reading him, but she didn’t want to pry.

  “That’s probably cold now,” she said.

  Jake shrugged. “Who cares?”

  “Wow.”

  “Wow, what?”

  “Wow. I mean, you’re so good with kids. And you don’t care if your meal got cold.”

  “No. Why should I?”

  “I think it’s cool. I mean, you’re really awesome.”

  “If I’m an asshole to that kid, he’ll remember, probably for the rest of his life, and tell his friends. That’s not the reputation that inspires other people to be better. And if I can only inspire one person in this world, then I feel I did a good job.”

  Jake, finished with his food, crumpled his package, then leaned back in his seat and sucked on his chocolate shake. He nodded towards Winona’s food. “Your food is cold now, too.”

  She folded her unfinished burger in the package, crumbled it, and tossed it on the table. “I’m done. Besides, I couldn’t help watching your interaction with him. Does that happen every time you go out?”

  “Rarely. I’m not that well known, only to people who follow certain sports. I’ve been on TV, news, commercials, and I’ve participated in many autographing events. But no, it doesn’t happen on a day-to-day basis.”

  Jake looked happier than she’d seen him in a while; more relaxed. His eyes twinkled as he grinned and cocked his head. She blinked at him.

  “But you love it when it does,” she said.

  “Absolutely.” He grabbed her hands from across the table and kissed her knuckles.

  “It’s sexy.”

  Jake arched his brow. “Oh?”

  “You’re sexy.”

  “I smell like onions now.”

  Winona wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, you do.”

  “And your hands taste like onions.”

  “That’s not sexy at all.”

  Jake shrugged. “Kind of. Have you ever had sex in a bathroom?”

  “Not a McDonald’s bathroom.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Now, that won’t inspire young children. Aren’t you supposed to be a good role model?”

  “I don’t know. It might inspire them.”

  Winona laughed, the smile on Jake’s face easing the worry in her chest. “Hardly.” She stood. “Come on. Let’s go wash these onions off our hands and get back on the road.”

  Jake remained seated. “So I guess that means no sex in the bathroom?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A week later, Jake ran through the mountains, his calves burning as he climbed. Once he made it up the slope, he slowed and walked. Trees shrouded him on all sides, lightening the heavy sun and his heavy heart.

  Two weeks. Two weeks before he saw Amy again.

  Not that these past few days hadn’t been great. He and Winona spent every moment together and he talked to Amy every evening on the phone, so he knew she was okay. But it didn’t help ease the hurt in his heart.

  Brandon was still dead. His killer hadn’t been found.

  Daily life without Brandon and Amy painted a bleak and dismal future. He didn’t know if he could go back to that life. He enjoyed it here and would like to see where his relationship with Winona would lead. Her family made him feel whole again. But right now he felt like his life was on hold, and he didn’t know how to handle that.

  Without Winona, he wouldn’t have been able to handle himself waiting to see Amy. Hell, without Garret, he’d never get to see Amy in the first place. He could stay closer to Amy in Wyoming until her visit. Go on his meets or travel across the country or start the
numerous projects he never had time to finish. But none of those options appealed to him without Winona by his side.

  That could pose a problem in the future.

  Right now, there was no place he’d rather be. The outskirts of Tanyon lent an outdoor playground like nothing he’d ever seen in all his travels. Deep canyons, wide rivers, and fluorescent waterfalls along a mountain backdrop. He wasn’t ready to go home, but he’d do anything to have Brandon and Amy with him.

  Jogging down the mountain, he returned to his bike he’d propped against a tree. He grabbed a bottle of water he’d kept in his backpack, took a long sip, and sent a quick message to Winona that he was coming down and would be back soon. The slopes he’d chosen were treacherous, and there was no point in playing stupid.

  Hours had passed since he’d last seen Winona, and he was starting to miss her. Beauty surrounded him on all sides, green foliage rising up with the blues of the mountains, rock sloping deep into the canyons and hills. He’d canceled his upcoming triathlons but wanted to stay prepared for them. Plus, this kind of exercise eased his mind like nothing else.

  Well, nothing except for seeing Winona in those panties when he opened the door to her condo. A T-shirt and silky, lacy panties.

  “Hey, woman.” He slipped inside, shut the door, and locked it behind him. She’d given him a key, which was more serious than he needed a relationship to be right now, but he’d accepted it. Even enjoyed it way more than he should.

  What would he do when this was all over? Where would he go? Who would he be?

  Winona barely looked at him as she breezed through the living room. “Hey. Sorry, I was trying to find my favorite pants and they were still in the dryer.”

  Jake shrugged as he eyed her. “No worries. No need for them anyway.”

  She smiled a brittle smile, and didn’t approach him as she dashed into the laundry room and came out wearing her jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, and a T-shirt. He halted her progress to the bedroom and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you in a hurry?” he asked.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  She barely looked at him, and he could tell she was lying when she said, “Yes. Everything’s great.”

  Jake scowled and dropped his hands, stepping away. “No, it isn’t.”

  He went to the kitchen for his post-workout protein drink. Grabbed the blender, threw in his protein powder, milk, and banana, and dumped in ice. When he turned it on, the grinding drowned out the noises in his head. Winona stood aside, hopping from one foot to the other, watching him.

  If she didn’t want to tell him what was wrong, fine. And maybe that was what worked about their relationship. He didn’t push, and she didn’t press.

  • • •

  Winona didn’t want to tell him. She’d wanted to wait until after dinner. Or a swim. Or a fuck. Something to lighten his mood. But then, he’d been in a good mood when he came home. She was acting crazy, and he’d sensed it immediately. She hadn’t been able to mask her fears, her worries, her concerns, her frown.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” she asked.

  Jake’s shoulders stiffened as he finished his smoothie and set the glass down. He stood ramrod straight and glared at her with eyes the color of a fervent thunderstorm, then trudged to the couch.

  She sat beside him and clasped his hands. “Sorry, I never meant to worry you.”

  His gaze grew filmy as he continued to stare at her. He shrugged and glanced away. “Well, you did.”

  She hadn’t started this well. Not at all. But how else could she tell him his cousin’s murderer had been found?

  He’d changed since he’d spent that day with Amy. He had grown into that charismatic man she’d seen on his videos when he’d been filmed at his triathlete meets and commercials and appearances he made. Loving life, living life, and laughing at life. They’d had so much fun together, and she didn’t want that to change.

  She knew he still grieved Brandon’s death. Knew he worried relentlessly about Amy and couldn’t wait for her visit. Knew he planned to leave after Amy’s visit.

  Winona sighed and, not knowing how else to broach the subject, plunged right into it. “They arrested a suspect in Brandon’s death.”

  Unflinching, he pinned her with a hard stare. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak.

  “His name is Matthew Carter. He’s been breaking into houses in the neighborhood, and Brandon just happened to be home the day it happened.”

  Breathless, she watched as a myriad of emotions rippled across his face. He remained as still as a tree on a stagnant day, his only movement a wrinkle of his forehead as if a storm brewed across his features. Then his jaw clenched. He blinked slowly. She saw complacency, and finally something akin to acceptance.

  “Amy was in her room. She never saw or heard what happened. But when he went to her room and found her playing, he kidnapped her.”

  Her breathing slogged through the silence. His breath was voiceless, toneless, as if he’d decided to give up and stop taking in air. She realized his acceptance was only a mask of defeat, and now his face held no emotion.

  “Does he match the police sketch?” He might be able to shield his feelings from his face, but not from his raspy and desperate voice.

  “They called Amy in to see if she could identify him, but she denied she knew him. The police sketch was vague. You could match that sketch. Carter admitted to everything except killing Brandon and kidnapping Amy.”

  “He admitted to everything?”

  “He admitted to the burglaries. Not to murder.”

  “That’s because he didn’t do it.”

  • • •

  Jake couldn’t sleep. Winona had tried to comfort him with lovemaking, and he’d selfishly taken from her. Once she’d fallen asleep, he’d risen and come into the living room, where he’d flipped through the channels in search of something to watch and take his mind off the day’s events. When Brandon’s face had flashed across the screen, he stopped.

  “There has been an arrest today in last week’s murder of famed sports manager Brandon Inman. The suspect, Matthew Carter, is also under investigation for a string of robberies in Inman’s neighborhood. Inman, manager for a myriad of sports celebrities, including his triathlete cousin Jacob Inman, was found murdered in his home.”

  A picture of the suspect stalled on screen. Ash lodged in Jake’s gut when he saw the man who’d allegedly killed his cousin.

  He’d refused to check his phone for news. He’d wanted to get a good night’s sleep before deciding if he wanted to read what the news said or see any pictures they might print. But his curiosity was too strong to stop watching.

  He still wasn’t convinced this Matthew guy killed his cousin.

  Jake couldn’t put his finger on the reasons why he continued to suspect Lillian was involved. Maybe it was because he knew what type of person Lillian was and all his suspicious would come to fruition. Or maybe—God help him—he wanted it to be Lillian. She’d go to prison for the rest of her life, and he could fight for Amy and give her the life she deserved.

  He pressed rewind on the remote and paused the TV on the suspect’s picture. Studying him, he tried to see something that would reveal the truth. He looked like scum, but not much different than Jake in his drug-and-alcohol days. He was young, had probably grown up without a real home, or maybe his parents had died as Jake’s had and he had no one else to turn to. Exactly the type of guy Brandon would have tried to help when they volunteered at shelters and drug programs.

  No matter. If he had, in fact, killed Brandon, he’d wish he were dead when Jake finished pummeling his face into the ground.

  “Everything okay?”

  Jake jumped at the sound of Winona’s voice and quickly shut off the television. He didn’t want to be caught watching the news, with the screen paused on the picture of the man he was supposed to hate. The man he would hate if he didn’t still believe Lillian was inv
olved.

  “Yes.”

  “What were you watching?”

  “TV. I couldn’t sleep. But I was just about to come back to bed.”

  “Oh?” She settled into the couch beside him.

  He rubbed a hand across his face. “Fine. I was watching the news.”

  She grabbed his foot and massaged his heels and calves. “It’s okay to watch the news. You don’t have to feel guilty for watching the news.”

  “I don’t. I just feel guilty for wanting to kill the man on the news.”

  “Matthew Carter?”

  “Yep. And I feel guilty for still not believing he did it.”

  • • •

  Jake and Winona spent the next two weeks making love like crazy, sightseeing like tourists, and sleeping late like teenagers. He helped her at the animal shelter, and Chayton understood she would be taking time off from Air Dog, indefinitely. They’d gone four-wheeling, bike riding, hang-gliding, and motorcycling.

  Neither discussed their future plans, only what activities they would do with Amy once she arrived. It was like a long vacation, one Jake hadn’t had in centuries.

  Jake remained convinced Matthew Carter did not kill his cousin, and Winona kept in contact with the police force to learn he would be held until trial.

  If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall in love with this woman. She was so good to him. Good heart. Good in bed. Non-judging. How could he think she wasn’t worthy?

  He wasn’t worthy. He may have succeeded in life, but he would always be a recovering addict. Nothing could change that, and he began to fear he was trading one addiction for another. He’d traded drugs and alcohol for his sport, but what happened if he lost his sport?

  He continued to run, continued to bike, continued to swim, and continued to push himself past the limits a normal overachiever would push. When NBC kept calling to schedule an interview with him, he finally accepted. Better to go to them before they came to him.

  He flip-flopped between asking Winona to come with him, and traveling by himself. If Winona went with him, she could keep him preoccupied and out of trouble. God knew he didn’t need to accuse Lillian on live television. But he also felt he was getting too close to her, afraid his addictive personality might latch on too tightly to her and if their relationship ended, he’d be ruined.