I Speak...Love (A Different Road #3) (26 page)

“I’m moving too fast. Maddy, I’m so sorry. I should never have assumed you’d want your photo studio here at the house,” he says, letting go of one of my hands. He wipes his free hand down his cheeks, then says, “Maddy, please, just stop crying. I can move all of this. We can find you another location,” he says, taking my hand again.

“NO!” I shout, again. “It’s just that . . . it’s . . . it’s absolutely perfect! I love it, and I love you!” I finally choke out.

“Oh, dear God, Maddy! I thought you hated it. You’re lucky I love you, woman,” he says, taking me in his arms.

The second I’m in his arms, I begin to calm down. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and take long, deep breaths.

“I am SO lucky you love me,” I reply.

After dinner, everyone grabs plates and dishes, and helps clear the outside table. Nelly shoos us all out of the kitchen and insists on cleaning everything up by herself. River and Stephen head into his study, and I’m not exactly sure where Kate and Sadie went, they disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Take me home, Josh,” Nina says, then belches the loudest I’ve ever heard a human being belch in my life. “Oh,” she moans. “Pardon me. I think the baby ate too much food,” she says to Josh. They call their goodbyes down the hallway, then Nina kisses me on the cheek. “How about this Saturday for the shoot?” Nina asks.

“Sounds good,” I tell her.

Nina waddles to the front door, then she calls a very loud, “Goodbye,” over her shoulder while Josh grabs her purse and helps her out the door.

“Have you seen Kate?” Cooper asks.

“I haven’t, but I bet I have a good idea where she is,” I say, walking upstairs.

Cooper follows behind me, and sure enough, the bedroom door that’s always been closed is now open.

Kate is in her old bedroom.

I look inside, and Kate is sitting on the bed looking around her room with a peaceful smile on her face. Sadie is sitting in front of her with her paw resting on Kate’s knee. Cooper walks into the room, and Kate’s peaceful smile turns into a loving smile when her eyes fall on Cooper. He gently sits on the bed next to her and takes her hand in his. She leans her head on his shoulder while I lean against the doorframe and think that yes, I’m one lucky girl that Stephen and everyone that was here in this house does, in fact, really love me.

Tonight was the last day of photography class. Before we were let out, the teacher handed out an entry form for a photography contest to an internationally acclaimed and highly recognized global magazine. He said he himself enters every year and usually wins in the category he enters, but he’s never won the cash grand prize. He said that nothing would make him happier than to see one of his students claim that prize. The second the form is in my hand, I know exactly which photo I want to enter.

The picture of the homeless woman on the park bench.

The problem though, the entry form clearly stipulates that if a person is the subject of the photo, a signed consent form must also be included for the photo to be entered. That part is impossible. I haven’t seen her since the day I took the photo.

I pull into the driveway at Stephen’s, grab all of my things, and head inside. I place my bag on the floor, the entry form on the counter, then head to the refrigerator for a late night snack. I dig out a container of cold chicken, open it, then break pieces off and shove them into my mouth while I stare at the form.

Warm arms wrap around me from behind, I close my eyes and inhale a sigh of content. Nothing feels better than Stephen’s loving arms around me.

“What’s that?” he asks, pointing to the piece of paper.

“Nothing,” I answer.

“It must be something. You’ve been staring at nonstop while eating leftovers,” he says.

“It’s an entry form for a photography contest,” I answer.

“Are you going to enter it?” he asks, placing his lips on my neck.

“I’d love to, but I need permission from the subject to enter the photo I want.”

“Well, you have my permission, Sweetness,” he says, jostling me in his arms.

“Oh, it isn’t . . .” I start to say.

“I’m just teasing you. Who’s the subject?” he asks.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know who she is,” I say, turning around in his arms, facing him.

“Where did you see her last?” he asks, trying to be helpful.

“On a park bench, she’s homeless,” I answer.

“When?” he asks.

“Months and months ago. Early one morning, I grabbed my camera and walked to a coffee shop. I got myself a cup of coffee and a bagel, but on the way back, I saw her sitting there enjoying the early morning sun. She sat there so beautiful. At that moment, she didn’t have a care in the world. She knew I took the photo. Before I left, I gave her my coffee and breakfast. I looked for her time and time again in hopes of giving her something warm in her belly, but I never saw her again.”

“You’re staying here tonight, right?” he asks. I nod my head yes as his hands gently rub up and down the backs of my arms. “Good.”

The next morning, Stephen is up early moving around in bed. I lift my head, scrape a mound of unruly hair off my face, tuck it behind my ear, then squint at him. The early morning sun is bright in my face, but when my eyes finally focus on him, I see he’s fully dressed, and he’s holding out a travel mug of coffee toward me.

“Good morning, Sweetness. We have somewhere to be before yoga,” he says, handing me the travel mug.

“We do?” I reply, groggy.

I sit up on my elbows and quickly think back if I’ve forgotten something. No, I don’t think we had any plans before six AM yoga, I’m positive.

“Get those sexy as hell yoga pants on that sweet ass. We need to get a move on,” he says, getting off the bed.

I flop back down on the mattress, holding the mug steady, then groan out loud. I set the travel mug on the end table, then snuggle back into his soft, warm bed.

“Maddy!” Stephen sings.

“I’m up! I’m up!” I say, sitting up.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, then rest my elbows on my knees, digging the heels of my hands into my eyeballs. I grab the coffee, then take an extra-long swig. God, he makes the best coffee. I get out of bed, strap on a sports bra, pull on my yoga pants and a loose fitting t-shirt, then brush my teeth and pile my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. I grab my coffee, then reluctantly drag myself downstairs where I find a bright-eyed Nelly and bushy-tailed Stephen in the kitchen.

“No need for breakfast this morning, Nelly. Maddy and I have plans,” Stephen says.

“We do?” I question.

“We do. Are you ready to go?” he asks.

I nod my head while we walk to the garage door off the kitchen. I slip on my sneakers and like usual, I walk my way into them. Stephen opens the door, then we get into the Mustang, and he drives out of town.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” he says, placing his hand on my thigh.

A heavy metal song comes on the radio, and Stephen’s fingers start to strum the inside of my thigh. Goosebumps travel up my body with each flick of his fingers. Every time he plays my thigh, I get the exact same chills I did the first time he did it. He turns down my street, and I glance at him with a questioning stare. He returns my stare with a sexy half smile. He pulls into the driveway and shuts off the engine.

“Did you leave something here last time you were over?” I question.

“Nope, we’re getting coffee and a bagel,” he replies.

The left side of my lips jerks up into a smile when I realize what he’s doing. I lean over the center console and plant a smiling kiss on his lips. I sit back in my seat, then I realize something else.

“Even if we do find her, and she does give me permission, I don’t have the consent form with me,” I tell him.

Stephen raises his hand, and pats the shirt pocket on his chest with a wink and a smile, then he exits the car. I lead him hand in hand down the street, through the park, then to the coffee shop. With an extra coffee and a bagel in my hand, we walk back to the park. My heart sinks when I see an empty park bench. It almost seems impossible. I spot a young woman in the distance on the other side of a grassy section watching us with wide doe-eyes, and a very old and worn backpack slung over her shoulder. She appears to be in her early twenties, and my heart sinks when I realize the similarity.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Stephen.

I walk across the grass and stop in front of her. My first impression of doe-eyes is spot on. She has the most beautiful blue eyes and prettiest, longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. With a smile, I place the hot coffee and bagel into her hands. Her young face, though kind, doesn’t smile back at me. I run my hand down her forearm and squeeze her hand before I walk back to Stephen. Stephen kneels down in front of me and ties my untied shoe, then he laces his fingers between mine. With a smile on his face, we head back to the Mustang. I know I have quite a few other photos that are in my humble opinion magazine worthy, but I just can’t imagine entering any other photo.

For the next five mornings straight, Stephen and I walk the same route in hopes of finding the woman in the photograph with no luck. Each morning the doe-eyed girl makes an appearance and makes eye contact with me. I smile at her, then place coffee and a hot meal into her hands.

The deadline for the contest is in two days. Tomorrow is the last day to find her.

The next morning Stephen drives to my house, and we walk to the coffee shop. As much as I would love to find the woman and get her consent, I love spending this time with Stephen even more.

Armed with an extra coffee and a bag with a hot breakfast sandwich, and a yogurt, Stephen and I slowly walk through the park hand in hand. I look down at my feet, and the shoelace to my left sneaker has come untied again. I watch with each step as the shoelace flicks back and forth. Stephen squeezes my hand and stops. I look up at him, wondering why he’s stopped. He nods his head, indicating I should look at something. I follow the path he’s looking to a park bench. Sitting side by side is doe-eyes and the woman from the photograph. My heart immediately lurches in my chest.

“But, how did she know?” I ask out loud.

As hard as it is to comprehend how doe-eyes even knew who I was looking for, I can’t take my eyes off of her face. For the first time in six days, doe-eyes has a smile on her face.

Her smile is breathtaking. It’s not just an ordinary smile. It’s a proud smile, and it begs to be answered if she did indeed do something good. I understand that need to be validated. I walk toward doe-eyes, she stands, and her eyes sparkle looking for that acceptance and reassurance. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight.

“Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.

I explain to the older woman what I need and without question or hesitation, she signs the form. With relief, I hug each woman, then set the coffee and bag on the bench between them. Stephen laces his fingers through mine, we both say our goodbyes, then we start to walk away. After a few steps, I turn back around feeling like there should be something more I can do. The older woman and the bag of food have disappeared and are nowhere to be seen. Doe-eyes is still sitting on the bench with the cup of coffee raised to her smiling lips.