Troubles (Beekman Hills Book 1)

by K. C. Enders

  Absently, I glance at my phone to check the time, and grab my sandals and the biggest, darkest pair of sunglasses I can find.

  “Gracyn?” The sound of my knuckles against the wood sends a fresh flash of pain through my skull.

  “Yeah? You feeling okay?” she rasps, her voice laced with either tears or sleep.

  I scoff at her question as I crack her door open, holding up her sunglasses. “Not great, can I borrow these?” She is exactly where I want to be—in bed—in the dark, not headed out into the world with a hangover. “How am I going to do this? I don’t know that I’m gonna make it today.” My eyes close and I lean my head against the doorframe—the cool wood offering a touch of relief to my aching head.

  “Lissy, you’ll be fine. Go get another glass of water. You drank the one he left you last night, right?” This conversation is usually the other way around. Me taking care of her. I know the routine, I just don’t want to move. “Go drink another, take something for your headache and pray he brings you something good to eat.”

  My feet make their way to the kitchen even though my head is still wishing it was soaking in the cool, smooth wood. In the kitchen, I move to fill a water bottle and take some ibuprofen. My phone buzzes just as I’m tipping the little brown pills into my hand. Of course, it makes me jump, spilling the perfectly round painkillers across the counter with each of them bobbling and tinkling as they spin around.

  I lean my forehead on the cabinet in front of me and answer. “Hello?”

  His voice is soft. “I’m here. Are you ready to go, or do you need a minute yet?”

  “I’m ready. I…” I sigh and gather up the pills I dropped, popping a few of them in my mouth. “I just need to clean up my spill. Do I need to grab anything?” I swallow the pills just as they start to dissolve on my tongue with that acidic burn.

  “Erm, yeah, actually. I forgot to grab a blanket. Do you have one we can use?” Bless him, his voice is still soft and low.

  “I’ll find something and be right out.” I check my closet and grab the flat sheet from my extra set. It’s just going to have to be good enough. “Bye, Gracyn. Thanks.” There’s no response, she’s probably fallen back to sleep.

  Sunglasses. Water bottle. Sheet. Keys. Deep, bracing breath and I head out to see Aidan leaning against the passenger side of his car. He looks at me with just a touch of pity and a beautiful smile.

  “Good morning, love,” he murmurs as he leans in and presses his lips to my cheek right by my ear. “You look beautiful. Let me take this.” He puts the sheet in the back seat of his car and opens the passenger door for me.

  Aidan’s quiet while we walk toward the back side of the historic mansion. I’ve toured it tons of times and while the mansion is beautiful, the grounds are unreal. This place was built as a summer home for a railroad tycoon during the Golden Age with servants’ quarters, a carriage house, and formal gardens. It’s magical. My happy place.

  In dire need of a little shade, I steer him toward my favorite spot. It’s a little niche tucked into some trees—perfect for a hammock and a good book. Sadly, I’m pretty sure the park service would frown on my efforts if I tried to put one up. Instead, I spread the sheet out where the grass is soft and fewer people are around to spoil the peacefulness. And it’s idyllic back here. Really perfect.

  “This is lovely.” Aidan squints toward the sun. “We’ll be good here? I’ve Irish skin, yeah? I don’t want to burn and freckle…” He turns his smirk to me and chuckles softly.

  Now, I totally want to see his cheeks turn red. And I can’t help but stare at the fine smattering of freckles high on his cheekbones and across the bridge of his nose. “No, I think your delicate complexion will be fine.” I’m starting to feel a little icky again. “Can we eat? I think I have a bad case of…” I scrunch up my nose and shake my head a little reaching for my water bottle. I really should have known better.

  Aidan sets the bag on the grass and pulls me down to the middle of the sheet. “Lisbeth, don’t try out-drinking Jimmy again. Love, he’s Irish…” God, I was an idiot to think I could hang with him. “And he’s years of experience on you.”

  I groan as Aidan unpacks sandwiches and fruit, knowing I need to eat, but the lurch in my stomach from the leftover alcohol is a lot to handle right now. I grab my water and let the cool liquid roll down my throat, saying a silent prayer. “You learned your lesson, then? No more showing off—trying to prove yourself?”

  I mumble a quiet no as he unwraps my sandwich and hands it to me. God, it’s perfect. Aidan’s amazing. He keeps doing these little things, taking care of me. Making sure I have what I need.

  “What? Why are you laughing at me?” Food finally sounds like a good idea to me. He can laugh all he wants, this is the stuff that love is made of.

  “Lisbeth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so thoroughly enjoy a fuckin’ turkey sandwich. You’ve hearts in your eyes.”

  Chapter 13

  Aidan

  I brush a lock of auburn hair back off Lis’ cheek, tracing the soft lines of her lips. Her nose twitches and she reaches up to brush away the tickle. Christ, she’s beautiful all rumpled from sleep. I can’t help but smile softly at her as she comes awake.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Mmm… I fell asleep?” She rolls to her back and wipes at her eyes. I reach over and gently dust an eyelash away from her cheek.

  “Love, you’ve been out for an hour or so. You drove everyone else away with your sweet snoring.” Sitting up, she looks around us, eyes wide and darting around, pink staining her cheeks. Most of the others are gone, but it had nothing to do with her.

  Only a handful of people are spread across the lawn. We pack up the trash and remnants of our food quietly. Watching a couple kids playing with their mum.

  There’s a path near where we’re sitting leading away from the house. An older couple passes by, holding hands as they stroll toward the car park. Lis leans into me and quietly asks, “How long do you think they’ve been married?”

  “What makes you think they're married?” I lean in closer. “Maybe they meet here for their weekly tryst.” Her face—Jesus, the look on her is priceless.

  She pulls away, and stares at me, her mouth forming that perfect little “O.” “Aidan, they've got to be in their seventies—really? They’re married and have kids and probably a ton of grandkids.” She gets a good smack in on my arm and I grudgingly release my hold. She looks suddenly shy and a little unsure as she asks, “Do you…um, want to go see the gardens?” She looks around like she’s trying to find a place to escape to.

  We’re going to have to talk about that.

  We have a lot of shite we need to talk about, but not today. It can wait for another day. Lorna didn’t answer my call this morning, so it’s best if I wait to talk about that bit.

  The path leads to terraced gardens. I catch the sweet heady scent of the flowers well before the riot of colors surround us. The gentle breeze carries the fragrance through the tunnel of the trees. I stop to pull my camera out of the case as Lis walks on ahead. The sunlight dapples through the trees casting her in the most beautiful green and golden glow.

  “Lisbeth, will you stop a moment?” I snap several frames just as she turns to look back at me. Her smile soft and her eyes go from questioning to sparkling in a heartbeat.

  Lis hops down the steps as she leads us deeper into the gardens. The color is breathtaking. I stutter to a stop when we round a corner—graced with the sight of a gazebo at the far end of a reflecting pool. The light. The sun dipping lower in the sky; we’re coming up on the golden hour. The time when the sun’s rays are pure magic. I live for light like this.

  She glides along the edge of the pool toward the gazebo, arms out to the sides for balance. There’s a statue of a woman at the far end. Grecian? Roman? It hardly matters. It’s a beautiful day and I have a subject I can’t wait to shoot.

  She stops in front of the statue and gazes up at it, taking in its form.
<
br />   Click click click

  The shutter counts out quietly. Lis turns and grins at me. “Can you imitate her pose?” Her right arm goes up and bends so that her hand is just behind her head. Looking back at the statue, Lis mimes gathering flowing robes and pops her left foot back just a touch so her shoe rests on the toe. “Tilt your head—to the right. Look down a little, toward the center of the pool.”

  Click click click

  This light. This is one of those moments. I don’t usually do artistic portraits. I shoot the news, humanitarian pieces, photos that oftentimes evoke hard emotions. That’s my career. But every now and then, God hands you a moment—a subject—that’s too good to waste.

  Click click click

  I need my other camera. Digital is good. I love the instant feedback with a digital camera, but there is something undeniably magical about film. Old school. It’s more of a challenge. Film forces you to focus on the subject as opposed to watching the screen. It’s more of an art.

  I stoop down to grab my old camera body and glance up at her as I affix the lens. The sheet she brought for our picnic catches my eye. Pulling it out of the satchel, I unfold it as I approach her. She drops her arms and shifts toward me.

  “Do you think we can use this? Wrap it around you like her robes?” I ask her.

  She takes the sheet from me and turns to study the statue. Gathering the material, draping it around one shoulder, and tucking it into place, she does a brilliant job imitating the look.

  I adjust the sheet as it flows across her chest and bunches over her left arm. After coaxing her back into the statue’s pose, I drag my hand down the underside of her raised arm. I tilt her chin, making minor adjustments as I hold her gaze. Scooping her hair forward over her shoulder, my fingers twisting through the silky burnished locks, I lean in so my lips graze her ear. “Breathe.” She releases her breath and closes her eyes. She’s as affected by this moment as I am.

  I jog back to my spot, anxious to frame the shot. It’s beautiful, but— “Can you push your top down your shoulders a bit? Just so it doesn’t show around the sheet?”

  Mesmerized, I watch as she does that thing girls do. That thing where they can slip out of a bra without exposing themselves? Yeah, that. She shimmies her tank top and bra off her shoulders. Fucking witchcraft. She holds my eyes as she raises her arm and gets back into position. Christ, now I’m the one not breathing.

  Click click click

  Click click click

  We haven’t seen anyone else since we’ve been in this part of the garden. The sky is turning the most beautiful soft golden color as the sun moves further west.

  Click click click

  “Erm…the sun’s filtering through the sheet. It’s…it’s back-lighting your shorts. Really taking away from the stunning artistry of the shot.” I smirk as she raises her eyebrow at me. I know I’m pushing my luck, but it really is taking away from what this shot could be.

  She cocks her head and reaches into her “robes.” God, how does she maneuver without dropping that thing? I can’t move my eyes as I watch her unbutton her shorts and wiggle them down her legs.

  Breathe.

  Breathe.

  Damn, I have to keep reminding myself to do that simple task.

  Click click click

  I shoot more film as she gets herself back into the pose.

  Breathtaking. Absolutely, fucking breathtaking. The soft rays of the sun highlight her curves and set her auburn hair to flame. The effect is unreal. She looks like a goddess.

  Click click click

  I work my way through the rest of the film, capturing subtle shifts in her expression and changes in the light as it slowly fades. I don’t know if she’s listening for the shutter click—that’s no longer there—or if she somehow senses that the moment has passed, but she raises her eyes to mine and time stands still.

  I put down the camera and move toward her.

  I can’t stop myself.

  My hand goes around the back of her neck, fingers weaving into her hair. Neither one of us takes a breath for that moment. That moment just before our lips brush, ghosting across each other. It’s a split second that lasts for days. I press closer, kissing her again, suddenly all too aware of her lack of real clothing. Her lips are soft and yielding. She tastes faintly of strawberries and wine. The kiss is getting ready to take on a momentum of its own when I force myself to pull back just a bit.

  “I should…we…” She shifts, and hugs the sheet closer to her body shivering a little. The sun is setting and the air is rapidly cooling. “The grounds close at dusk. We should probably get going.”

  I pull in a deep breath and step back while running my fingers through my hair. “Erm, yeah. Right. I’ll, uh…pack up my cameras while you…” I wave my hands at her and the sheet, unable to find words that make any sense.

  I hold her hand as we walk through the grounds back to the car park. I want to touch her. Maybe it’s the intimacy of the moment. Maybe I don’t want her to pull away again. Maybe I’ve become completely intoxicated by her, but the reflecting pool changed something in me. Maybe in her too.

  I walk her around to the passenger side of the car and help her in, not letting go of her hand until I have to. What. The. Fuck? Lis shifts nervously, giving me the side eye as I settle in the driver’s seat and turn down the radio. “So, are you going to let me see?”

  “See what?” I want to hear her ask.

  “The pictures. I want to see what you got. What I look like.”

  I sit and smirk at her for as long as it takes to make her a little uncomfortable. I think I like her a little rattled.

  “What? Can I see them?”

  “Well that’s the thing. A moment like that needs to be treated special. Treated and captured in a way that sets it apart from all the rest.”

  She scrunches her nose up at me as I pull out onto the main road heading to her flat. “You’ll have to wait for the proof sheet.”

  “What? Just give me the camera, I’ll scroll through and scrap the shitty ones before you doctor them up with filters and magic.” The scent of her hair floats around me as she turns, trying to reach the ruck in the back with my equipment. My skin tingles and raises chill bumps where the strands brush faintly across my arm.

  “I switched cameras. This afternoon could only be done justice with film. I’ll need to develop them at the dark room. I should have the proof sheet tomorrow—maybe later tonight.”

  Lis huffs out her frustration right there.

  “Are you cranky, then? Need to get you home so you can take another nap, or go to bed early, yeah?”

  “I have to work tonight.” She drops her head back and closes her eyes. “Jenna texted me—the other bartender called in sick. Bastard is probably just hungover.” This girl works hard. Too hard.

  I pull up to her building and hop out to get her door. Not sure if I’m being a gentleman, full of shite, or just have to touch her again, but as she steps out of the car, I wrap my left hand around her neck and pull her to me. It’s still there. That magic from earlier. I brush my lips across hers, hating that I have to let her go for the evening. “Be safe at work, yeah.”

  She nods, licks her lips, and makes her way inside.

  I set off for the photo lab straight away.

  Chapter 14

  Lis

  “Hey, what time are you working tonight?” Gracyn really needs to get a handle on her volume control.

  “Seven to close. You wanna shush a little?” Easing out a deep breath, I close my eyes willing myself to grab another water and some more ibuprofen. I’m definitely feeling better, but I need sleep.

  “Still have a headache? You’re looking all wobbly and woozy—sun too much for you today?” She’s obviously feeling perkier than she was this morning, and there’s no escaping her now. I shrug and shuffle down the hall to my room to change for my shift.

  “Are you working tonight, too? You wanna ride in together?” Please, please let her say yes. If she
drives, maybe I can catch a quick nap. And make it through the weekend without having to put more gas in my car.

  No lie, this week is going to kill me. I have rent, books for my summer courses, and a million other bills to pay for. My tiny financial cushion from spring break is officially gone.

  “I think I’ll drive, though.” She looks at me with her lips curled up in a smirk. “You still look like shit.”

  My phone buzzes while I put some makeup on and try to tame my windblown hair.

  A: Hey-I got darkroom time tonight. I can come by when I’m done.

  L: How long will it take to process all the photos?

  A: Christ, far too long. I’ll just get the thumbnails done. Come by for a drink.

  I can’t tonight. I just can’t. The past two days have been some kind of crazy and intense. I need a minute to think about this afternoon. About what passed between us.

  Pouring drinks and mixing cocktails will give me just the right amount of monotony to work through my thoughts and feelings without having to face them directly.

  L: Can we meet up tomorrow? It’s going to take everything I have to make it through tonight with my head still pounding.

  A: Right. I’ll try to get time in the morning. We can hook up whenever and then I can make some prints.

  L: Is that a spectator sport?

  A: …?

  L: Can I watch you work?

  A: I’ll text you a time.

  His last response takes a lot longer than the others. I don’t have time or energy to try and figure out why. Gracyn’s pushing me out the door and I have to force my brain to switch gears to get through the night.