Kelly Jamieson: Lost and Found

He pushed Derek down to the couch and he went down easily, almost falling.

Krissa wrapped her arms around herself. The room was very warm from the fireplace that had been going for the last few hours, but a chill stroked over her skin. She glanced at her watch. “Derek, it’s two in the morning, for God’s sake. Where the hell have you been?”

He gazed back at her bleary-eyed, sadness not obliterated by intoxication. “I’m sorry, Krissa.”

She rolled her lips in, sank her teeth into the top lip. She closed her eyes, and turned away, her chest tightening.

“Sorry to you too, Nate,” Derek said. “I totally forgot.” He sighed.

“Don’t worry about me,” Nate said. “But Krissa was worried about you, man. Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re sober.”

Derek scrubbed his hands over his face, sagged back into the couch, and blinked at them. “You’re right. I’m an asshole.” He focused on Krissa. “Sorry I didn’t call, baby.”

She shook her head, trying to keep her anger going in the face of his apology. He was not going to get off that easy, this time.

Nate looked at Krissa. “Want me to help get him to bed?”

“I can get to bed.” Derek stood, wavering.

“Sure, buddy. Come on.” Without waiting for Krissa, Nate led Derek up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Krista followed. “My assistance stops at helping you undress,” he told Derek, his mouth quirking at the corners.

“I’ll do that,” Krissa said.

Their eyes met. “Okay. Good night, Krissa.”

“Thanks, Nate.” Her voice was low. He disappeared, shutting their bedroom door behind him.

Krissa turned. Derek had fallen onto the bed, asleep. Or passed out more likely, still fully clothed.

She went into the adjoining bathroom, the brightness of the light stinging her eyes when she turned it on. She stared at herself in the mirror that covered one wall. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes swollen from crying, mascara smeared under them. Oh lord, she looked atrocious. Derek hadn’t likely noticed in the condition he was in, but Nate probably had. Then again, they’d been in the dark.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face, changed into the nightie hanging on the back of the door. She flicked off the light and returned to the bedroom.

The rumble of Derek’s snoring and the odor of alcohol, cigarettes and perfume that wasn’t hers permeated the room. Krissa stared at him, lips pressed together, her stomach in a tight knot. Then she left their bedroom, shutting the door behind her and went to sleep in one of the other rooms.

He’d walked into quite the mess.

Maybe it had been a bad decision coming to stay with Krissa and Derek. Things seemed to be a tad unsettled.

Nate stood in the shower in the bathroom attached to his room. Derek and Krissa had moved into a big enough house, considering there was just the two of them. It worked out well for him. He had his own little suite here, with a huge bedroom and attached bath. In a house this size, he could stay out of their way and they’d never have to know he was there. Probably a good thing, especially considering the discussion they were likely to be having this morning.

That was putting it mildly. Derek was out getting hammered while Krissa cried her eyes out at home. Uh, yeah, just your typical marriage.

What the hell did he know about typical marriages? He’d thought his own marriage was perfect. What a fucking idiot he’d been. Ah, well. That’d been a long time ago. Another life.

The only good thing about this upheaval was, it had taken his mind off his own problems.

He grinned as he scrubbed shampoo into his hair. He didn’t envy Derek right then. The guy was going to be majorly hungover and Krissa was going to be pissed beyond belief. He was surprised he didn’t hear the yelling all the way into the shower.

When Nate was dressed he followed the smell of rich coffee down the hall. Someone was up. As he passed by a bedroom he noticed through the open door the bed with the covers turned back and rumpled as though someone had slept there.

Had Krissa spent the night in a bed apart from her husband?

Kinda looked like it.

Krissa sat in the kitchen at the counter, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Sunlight streamed in through all the windows and Nate slid on his sunglasses, his eyes burning. Damn it.

“Hey,” he said. “I smell coffee.”

She looked up at him, eyes wary and guarded. Even with shadowed green eyes and a soft, sad mouth, her beauty tugged at something inside him. She wore no makeup and he could see the faint sprinkling of freckles across the fair skin of her nose and cheeks.

She slid off the stool. “I’ll get you some.”

Nate held up a hand. “No, I’ll get it. You don’t need to wait on me. Just point me in the direction of a cup.”

“In the cupboard right above the dishwasher.” She sat down again.

He poured himself a cup of coffee. “Derek already gone?”

She snorted. “He’s still sleeping.” She shook her head, dark hair sliding over her shoulders in a silky curtain.

“Ah.” Nate sipped the coffee and sat, too. “I guess when you’re self-employed you can do that.”

“He could be missing appointments, I don’t know.” The corners of Krissa’s mouth turned down. “But if he is, he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Yup.” Silence expanded in the bright kitchen.

“I’m sorry you walked into this,” Krissa said finally. “You’re probably wondering what’s going on.”

Hell, yeah. But he wasn’t going to pry. Derek was his best buddy, and he’d always liked and respected Krissa. If they were having problems, that was their business. Best to just stay out of it.

“Things have been a little stressful lately,” she continued, and her top teeth sank into her lush lower lip. “I’m sorry. You probably don’t need this when you have problems of your own to deal with.”

He shrugged, sipped his coffee. Its heat stung, and he held the liquid in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I guess I picked a bad time to barge in on you. You probably don’t need someone else hanging around right now.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I know Derek wanted you to come here too, to recover. We’d do anything to help you, you know that.”

“What about you?”

Her dark brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“Is there anything I can do to help you guys?”

Their eyes met and held. He shifted on his stool. Felt exposed.

“No,” Krissa said at last. Her eyes dropped. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Okay. Just remember, though. Anything. You two are my best friends.”

“I know.” He watched pain and sorrow shift across her face.

“You’re both up already?”

They both turned at the sound of Derek’s raspy voice in the door of the kitchen. He was dressed in a pair of boxer shorts riding low on his hipbones. His blond hair stuck up in all directions and he rubbed his face as he yawned.

“Already? It’s nine-thirty,” Krissa said. “You’re usually at the office by seven.” She slipped off her stool and went over to the coffeemaker. She poured a cup and walked to Derek, handed it to him.

Their eyes met as he accepted the mug from her. Nate watched the two of them as they communicated wordlessly. Derek slid his hand around the back of Krissa’s neck, under her hair, and pulled her toward him. Slowly, she pressed her face into the side of his neck and Derek laid his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes. They stood that way for a long moment.

Nate wanted to look away. But his eyes remained fastened on them. The intimacy of the moment made something clench down low inside him.