Kelly Jamieson - Lost and Found

“What?”

“Derek always believed it was my fault.”

“It’s not anybody’s fault.” He couldn’t let that go. There seemed to be a lot of blame flying. “It isn’t something you can control. If you weren’t able to get pregnant for some medical reason, he couldn’t blame you.”

“But that’s how I felt. Like he was blaming me for all the shit we were going through. And I do feel responsible. Even now…when we know it’s him.”

“Again, not his fault.”

“I didn’t say that,” she snapped. Then she sighed. “Sorry. I don’t blame him, Nate. I still feel like it’s all my fault, because I’m the one who wants a baby so badly.”

“He doesn’t?” That didn’t make sense.

“Not the same way. He wants a baby because that’s what you do. People get married, have kids. But he doesn’t agonize over it like I do. So even though I’m sure he’s devastated by knowing he can’t have children, he’d be fine without.”

“You can’t blame yourself.”

She laughed. “Oh yes I can. And Derek…well, never mind. Want some breakfast?”

“Just some toast, maybe.”

They talked while she toasted bread, spread peanut butter, poured more coffee. He ate six slices of toast. Could have eaten two more. His appetite had returned with a vengeance.

He listened to her as she talked about her best friend Cameron’s children, her three-month-old baby, her three-year-old twins. How envious Krissa was. How she hadn’t even told Cameron they’d been trying to have a baby.

“Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t think I should have kids.”

He shook his head. “Huh? She has three but she doesn’t think you should have any?”

Her lips quirked. “Not because I’d be a bad mother or anything. She’s just overwhelmed right now. Kids are a lot of work.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She laughed. “I know, I know. So it’s easier if I just don’t say anything about it. I don’t want to get in a big discussion about the pros and cons of being a parent. According to her, it’s all cons. And I know that’s not true but if I try to tell her that, she just says I don’t know what I’m talking about because I don’t have kids. So it’s just easier.”

He nodded.

“I’m going to get some work done.” She hesitated. “I feel bad just leaving you…”

“I told you, I’m not here to be entertained. I’ll go for a walk on the beach or something.” He squinted out the window at the bright sky. “I forgot how it never rains here in the summer. All this sun is killing me.”

“I love the sun.”

“Normally, me too. Any chance I could get to be outside, taking pictures…especially water.”

“I know. Your photographs are beautiful, Nate.”

“I saw you have one. In the family room.”

“Yes. We bought it on-line.”

“I’d have given it to you, if you’d asked.”

“Don’t be silly. That’s how you earn your living. I looked at all the ones on your website and I picked that one. It was hard though, they’re all so…serene. Soulful.”

“Yeah.”

“There was an article about you in the newspaper—local boy makes good kind of story.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” The reporter had interviewed him by phone. He sighed, not liking the reminder of what he couldn’t do.

Krissa disappeared and he took his walk, sat and stared at the ocean until his eyes burned from the brightness despite the glasses and he was forced back into the house.

He ran into Krissa in the hall, still dressed in her ugly shorts, although the legs they revealed were spectacular. His eyes were streaming water, but he could still make out an attractive pair of legs.

“Are you okay?” Concern edged her voice.

“Yeah.” Embarrassed, he wiped his face. “The sun was getting to my eyes.”

“Oh, God. What can you do…just sit in the dark?”

“I have some drops the eye doctor gave me.” He grimaced. “I just hate putting them in.”

She blinked. “Why?

“I can’t stand anything in my eyes.” He shuddered.

“Go get the drops,” she said. “I have no problem touching eyeballs.”

“Nobody is touching my eyeballs.”

She laughed. “Okay, I won’t touch them. But I can put the drops in for you.”

“Uh…that’s okay.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t be such a baby. Get the drops.”

He hesitated, then went into his room and returned, holding up a small bottle.

She took the bottle from him. “Come and lay down on the couch.”

They went into the family room. “Lean your head back.” She gave the bottle a shake then unscrewed the cap. He did as she asked, removing the sunglasses as he rested his head on the soft cushion, his body tightened in preparation for the torture she was about to deliver.

Krissa gazed down at Nate’s closed eyelids, dark lashes fanning on his high cheekbones. He was…incredibly beautiful.

Her heart skipped a beat, then started thudding unreasonably in her chest. The fingers holding the tiny bottle trembled. She touched a fingertip beside his left eye. “Can you open this eye?” Her voice came out in a whisper.

He opened the eye and stared at the ceiling. His eyes were a beautiful aquamarine color, like a Caribbean cove. Clear and translucent. She compressed the bottle and a drop fell into his eye. He immediately squeezed it shut and hissed.

“Does that hurt?” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“Like a bitch,” he muttered.

She waited before doing the other eye, then capped the bottle, watching him screw up his face. Still gorgeous.

He lay there for long moments, the house quiet, until he huffed out a breath and blinked his eyes open.

“Better?” she whispered. Tenderness expanded in her chest.

He looked up at her and their eyes met. And held.

Nate blinked rapidly, and Krissa couldn’t drag her eyes away from his face. Those eyes pulled at her like a receding wave in the ocean and she swallowed.

“I’m going to change and then go do my shopping.” She set the bottle on the table. “If you still want to come, we could go get some lunch somewhere.”

“Nah, never mind.”

She blinked. “Oh. I thought you wanted to come with me.”

He rose to his feet. “I changed my mind.”

He turned his back on her and walked stiffly toward the stairs.

Disappointment flooded her. She’d been looking forward to having company while she did her grocery shopping. “What’s wrong, Nate? Are your eyes bothering you that much?”

“They’re fine,” he snapped without turning. “Just leave me alone.”

She stood there, watched his retreating back. Ooookay. Rude prick. God, she was surrounded by grouchy testosterone.

Then she felt ashamed of that thought. He wasn’t a prick. Just like Derek, he had big problems. And didn’t want to talk about it. Fine.

Besides, she’d been a bitch herself last night. Guess she deserved that. They were all behaving badly.

She went to her own bedroom to change out of her plaid shorts. She pulled on a short denim skirt and a T-shirt, brushed her hair. As she slicked some gloss on her lips, she heard a knock on her door.

The door was open, so she just turned. Nate stood there hands in his pockets, dark glasses shielding his eyes. She looked at him. Waited.

“I…uh…I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

She nodded, twisted the cap back onto her lip gloss and dropped it into her purse.

“I would still like to come,” he said. “If you don’t mind some unpleasant company.”

She swallowed a laugh. “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully, slinging her purse over one shoulder. “If you’re going to be an asshole I’d rather do my shopping alone.”