She stood abruptly and glared at me. “I don’t accept that. I don’t. I gave you a divorce so you could have the time to do whatever it was you needed to do. I always thought you’d come back to me. Now you want me to let you go, forever.”
Her problem was the same one she’d always had. She wasn’t used to being told no. She was the great Tiffany Tate, wealthy, beautiful and a guy’s dream. No one would dare tell her no and mean it.
I just had more balls than most.
I stood too. “Jack is my focus right now. I hope you’ll consider going through the proper channels of me seeing him.”
She folded her arms under her breasts and just stared at me.
It was fine, I didn’t expect her to answer, and I’d expected this reaction from her. Now she knew where we stood for the future and what I wanted.
I left her standing there in the kitchen and headed into town to get some water sealant for my shed. I would have gone to see Dad next, back at the mansion, but I was beginning to think he’d had enough of me. He met with Detective Gracen three days ago and while nothing much was discussed, I could tell Dad was worried.
He was the kind of guy who wore his emotions on his sleeve and his worry rubbed off on Mom.
No one was talking about the obvious situation that had presented itself but they were worried. Me staying away today was to give them some breathing space.
I knew that Detective Gracen would have spoken to Lana too.
Probably saying the same things he’d said to Dad about the extra document he’d found and alerting her that he may need to speak to various people again.
Dad thought he may have wanted to speak to me too, but so far I hadn’t been contacted.
When I got into town I decided to walk the long way to the hardware store.
Off in the distance, on the paved path between the ice cream parlor and the florist, was the beautiful young woman I used to imagine running into on the street.
Lana stood there looking around with her purse slinked over her arm and her phone out like she was checking something.
It was funny how I’d imagined running into her in the past and a version of that was what happened when I saw her in L.A.
I’d gone on the business trip and it was a chance to have a little break from home. She was walking through the hotel lobby with a group of people. I later found out there was a fashion show at the hotel and that was when I found out her details. Her name. Lana D’Angelo. No wonder I couldn’t find her as Lana Connell.
In the vision I’d had so many times, when I ran into her we spoke. What happened six years ago was nothing like that. It was me wanting so desperately to run to her and ask her what happened.
It was me thanking God and the host of heaven that she was alive and not dead somewhere. Then it was me walking away from finding her because I realized she had a different life, that didn’t involve me, and didn’t need me.
The urge to walk away now came.
I definitely admitted that the urge to turn down the path to my left came and I nearly went for it.
But… something inside me stopped me from doing so and made me continue to stare.
She was right there about twenty feet away from me, right within my reach. There to speak to… as friends.
That was what she’d said she hoped we could be.
Friends.
Could I try that?
Would a friend take note of the way her body looked in that little summer dress? Her body, different to her teenage body had transformed into what I thought a goddess would look like.
Breasts full and round were perfectly displayed against the tight fabric that clung to her skin. Breasts I remembered very well. From the way her nipples would harden against my tongue to the way the swells would warm against the palms of my hands.
The sharp curve of her waist was always so perfect to slip my hands around. It still was.
Along with the curve running down her hips.
Those legs still looked like temptation. Smooth, satin smooth and long. My body remembered them wrapped around my waist as I pounded into her.
I may have had some strange ways of thinking in the past because quite frankly I didn’t care much about what a lot of people thought of me. But, even I couldn’t agree that a friend would be thinking those things about another.
But would I allow that to stop me?
I stood there watching her and I contemplated the answer to that.
I’d contemplated the answer to many things when it came to Lana over the last few days and I tried to accept that she had her reasons for not saying more than she had.
Those reasons were in the past. This was the present, and low and behold the only thing that was the same about then and now was that desire and fascination that made me do things I shouldn’t do.
Like the step I’d just taken toward her instead of going left to the hardware store.
Chapter 10
Lana
“You know I’m pretty certain if you lean anymore you’ll fall over,” Ryan remarked.
I snapped my gaze to him and a little breath escaped my lips at the sight of him.
I guess I must have looked pretty strange as I’d leaned over so I could see around the corner by the florist.
A dimple appeared in his left cheek as his lips arched into the beginning of a smile and hope filled my heart even though the smile never really came out in full bloom.
He was talking to me and the angst that I’d seen the other day didn’t seem to be there.
“I’m looking for the art shop. The map said it was here. Lily’s Art Supplies,” I explained.
When he actually smiled it took me back to nights spent in his arms on the beach. I remembered how I used to commit his face to memory.
“Yeah, that’s Lily’s alright,” he confirmed. “She’s a florist now, the art thing didn’t quite work out for her. I heard she decided flowers were more her thing, although she ended up selling a batch of poison ivy to a few people.”
I laughed and his eyes sparkled.
“No way, she did that?”
“Uh huh, you know what people are like here. They get an idea and roll with it, doesn’t seem to matter if they have the knowledge or backing to do it.”
“Yeah, I remember. Like Tony’s Pet Shop.”
He laughed now, bringing out the dimples in full force. The vision of him actually made my mouth water. I had to blink to refocus my mind and set my thoughts on cleaner paths.
“Yeah exactly like that.”
Tony had caught all these wild animals and decided he’d sell them. I’d wanted a fish. Ryan was twelve at the time and I was eleven. Tony had just opened his store and Mama took us both in, thinking it would be cool to get my fish there.
When we saw the crocodile in the tank by the entrance, a python in the tank opposite and a vulture in the cage right next to it, we did a U-turn.
The shop was closed down six months after. How he’d managed to stay open for so long was beyond me. Tony was arrested too for keeping wild animals in enclosures without the proper licenses .
“So, is it okay to ask the only guy I know who’s into art where I might find an art shop. I need a sketch pad and some pencils. I left everything back in L.A. thinking I wouldn’t really conjure anything up while I was here.”
He looked me over and looked like he’d decided he was going to help me.
“Why would you leave your tools?” He tilted his head to the side.
“I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Clearly… What did you see?” A glint touched his eyes and the bright blue hue seemed brighter. It reminded me of the Caribbean Sea I’d immersed myself in months ago when I did a photoshoot in Jamaica.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized he was talking to me the way he used to. It was the way one creative person talked to another. A sort of language you shared between you.
I beamed up at him. “A bird flew at the window this morning and it had the most amazin
g blue and green undertone to its wings. It flew over the lake and dived into the undergrowth. It reminded me of passion.” I’d discovered along my journey that my designs were all inspired by some kind of emotion. “I wanted to do some sketches of the designs that came to my mind.”
“Passion?” he asked in that true cocky Ryan style.
I nodded. “That’s what I’m calling it for the moment.”
“Sounds good.”
I widened my eyes at him. “What? You’re actually agreeing with me? You never agree with me.”
“Well looks like you learned. Cut the shit out and flesh out what you mean to say. No more preludes.”
No… no more preludes.
“I figured that passion simply is.” I borrowed his words from so long ago and he looked at me like he knew what I meant. Like he remembered our first kiss too.
“It is… Come.” He turned and started walking, glancing over his shoulder once at me.
I smiled and followed him.
“Is this for a new show?” he asked.
“Not sure yet. I’ve only just really taken off with my new line. I’m hoping that Fashion Week will get me the exposure I want. So I want something to follow that up with. Something amazing and different.”
He chuckled. “And what does Lana D’Angelo consider to be amazing and different?”
“I don’t know, maybe feathers.” I had that damn bird stuck in my head.
He glanced at me with raised brows. “Feathers?”
“I’ll know when it comes to me.”
“I feel you already know what you want and it’s not feathers. Why don’t you just do what you want to do?”
I tucked a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. It had been so long since I’d had someone to talk to like this.
“Leather… I see leather,” I confessed. “But colorful leather. Like turquoise and gold. Kind of like tapping into a seventies vibe meets the modern. I just don’t know how to pull it off yet. But feathers are in this season,” I explained.
He stopped, looked at me in the wild way he used to and did his habitual step forward. It had been years since I’d followed that with my response of stepping back and I wouldn’t do it now.
He leaned close and tilted his head to the side. “The Lana I know wouldn’t care about what’s in season. Leather is sexy as hell and bleeds passion. It’s the thing that happens when chemistry and attraction come together.” His gaze held mine in place, frozen in the moments we stood there together. “You should definitely go with leather. It suits you.”
“Really? You’ve never seen me in leather.” I couldn’t help it. My body remembered him being this close and melted.
He gave me his trademark sexy half smile and tapped the side of his head. “Don’t need to Princess. It’s here. I memorized your body by heart. I know what you look like in everything.”
While he moved back and started walking again, heat flushed over my body in an overwhelming blush from the combo of the way he’d looked at me and what he said.
I fell into step next to him and he glanced over at me, brief but effective. It drew me in and wiped my brain clean of everything, even what I’d come out shopping for.
Georgie went back to LA this morning with the plan to come back next weekend if I didn’t hear from Detective Gracen in the week. I got the inspiration to do some drawings and decided to come out. Looked like it was a good call as I doubted I would have seen Ryan otherwise.
We walked on a path in silence for about five minutes then we turned the corner near an Italian Bistro and came to a quaint, quirky little art shop that looked like it was more fitting to be placed in a village.
Like a lot of things here much had changed. I remembered there being an ice cream parlor at that spot.
We went inside and an old man with a long white beard greeted us. He showed us where the sketch pads were but when I saw everything else, I not only got side-tracked but got sucked into buying as many things as I could fill the basket with.
There were these little beads and trinkets to make jewelry boxes. Glittery this and that, and when I got to the paint section I noticed he had an abundance of colors. Ryan and I must have spent well over an hour in the shop and when we were finished that basket of mine was so full there was no way I was going to be able to carry it all the way back to the house by myself.
I’d walked because I was only ten minutes away. The plan was simply to grab the sketch pad and some pencils but somewhere along the line that had changed and I bought the entire shop.
“Christ woman, did you drive?” Ryan huffed as we stepped outside. He carried the heavier bags of paint and tucked the sketch pads under his powerful arms.
“No, I thought I’d be quick and just grab the pads and pencils.”
“Three pads and the rest of the shop.” He smirked.
“They were all so pretty, I couldn’t resist,” I answered in a playful tone.
He shook his head at me. “Where do you live?”
“Ten minutes’ walk,” I replied, kind of hoping he’d walk with me. Call me crazy and one to shoot myself in the foot, and possibly my heart, but I didn’t want to say goodbye just yet.
“So two minutes by car?” he surmised.
“Maybe less.”
“I’ll drop you off.”
“Thank you. Does some sweet tea sound like a good thank-you?” A little hop lifted my shoulders.
“Sweet tea and brownies. I just spent the whole afternoon with you while my poor shed suffers.”
I giggled. “Your poor shed?”
“It’s fine. It’ll live.” He winked at me and I followed when he turned to walk toward the car park.
Chapter 11
Lana
It took five minutes to get back to the lake house and that was just because of the traffic.
We went into the sitting room to set down the bags by the fireplace.
Ryan looked around and his gaze landed on the river. I stood next to him and admired it too.
I wasn’t that surprised to see him looking so taken with the scenery. It was similar to the setting around his house. I liked his better though. It had a homely feel to it, even though there were unpacked boxes. I think it was just the presence of him that made it feel homely.
It was starting to take effect here as I watched him.
“Nice place,” he complimented.
“I liked it when I saw the pictures online,” I bubbled. “I didn’t have a lot of time to shop around, but this was a good pick.”
“Yeah, looks that way. Your friend here?”
“No, she left this morning. She’s in marketing and has some new clients she’s seeing this week. So, I’m here by my lonesome.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“Yeah. I live in an apartment in L.A.”
“I always figured you’d be more at home in a house.” He smiled.
“I am… that is definitely true. It’s time that prevents me from really establishing where I want my home I suppose. I travel a lot.” That was probably putting it mildly.
“Are you happy?” he asked and rocked back on his heels.
“Yeah. It’s nice. It’s how I imagined it when I dreamed of making it.”
He inclined his head to the side and smiled. “But?”
“I didn’t say but.” I grinned.
“Didn’t have to. It was there lingering on the edge of that last word.”
I gave him a little shrug. He was right, there was a but, however any problems I had came with the job.
“I didn’t think I was going to be so busy. I like it because there’s nothing like doing what you love. It’s just super busy.”
“Well, I know it’s not ideal but maybe you needed this break.”
I agreed. “Yeah. You know what else I need?”
“What?”
“To make you those brownies.”
I sauntered into the kitchen and he followed with that lingering stare.
I started on the br
ownies and he watched.
I’d talked a lot about myself today, but I noticed he hadn’t said much about himself.
“So, what’s it like being a defense attorney?” I asked trying to find something solid to carry a conversation.
He leaned over the counter and stared at me. “Boring as shit.”
I stopped beating the eggs to look at him. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad. Law’s like second nature to you.”
“Princess, wasn’t I always good at that stuff?” He gave me a wolfish grin and straightened up.
Princess…
He’d called me that earlier.
He always used to call me that. Hearing it made my heart recall the way it used to feel.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “You were. I thought you’d be happy doing that eventually when you saw how good you were.”
“No. My dad loves the help. We expanded and it’s cool. My mom of course was thrilled.”
Of course she was. I would have known that even if he didn’t tell me.
“How is she?” I asked in an attempt to gloss over what I truly felt. It was just like the time when I offered to make her that shawl. Boy was I ever clueless on the depth of that woman’s hatred for me.
Being sick however, with a thing like cancer, must have been awful for the family and awful for her. So, I had a heart in relation to that. Enough of a heart for me to ask how she was.
“Not that good, she’s had a lot of therapy and surgery and it looks like she’s just hanging on some days. Right now she’s in that in between phase where you can tell she’s trying. It’s been a long road.” The way he answered showed how worried he was.
“I’m sorry. I hope she gets better.”
“Thank you.” He nodded and we just looked at each other.
He chuckled at the silence. “It’s weird isn’t it? Us here trying to talk like friends catching up. I have a million questions, and I’m here trying to be selective on what to ask and holding off on stuff about your life I want to ask.”
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