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Authors: Kelly Jamieson

BOOK: Lost & Found
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“And then you saw me…not being a success.”

They looked at each other. Krissa knew that’s what her mother had been thinking, even though she wasn’t agreeing with her. “I’m sorry, Krissa,” Lizbeth murmured. “I’m so sorry.” She turned the mug in her hands.

Silence settled between them.

“You know that saying? About the grass always being greener?” Lizbeth asked.

“I know.” Krissa shook her head. “Everyone wants what they don’t have. Sometimes I wonder if I really wanted a baby that much, or I just wanted it because I couldn’t have it.”

“You can be a little stubborn like that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I understand, Krissa. Because I’m like that too. I thought I wanted a career. I saw women I’d gone to school with moving into senior positions…I wanted what they had. But I truly loved you and your sisters, and wanted to be the best mother I could be.” Her mom’s gaze softened. “You wanted a baby that much? That you would…”

“It’s complicated.” She looked down at her mug of tea.

“You seem so sad, Krissa. I know you want this baby…are you sure there’s no hope for you and Derek? If you love him…”

“I…I’m so confused about my feelings right now. I think Derek and I need to be apart. I need to figure out how I feel, and who I am. I’m just learning things about myself…”

“Maybe someday…”

“I don’t think so.” Krissa smiled at her mom. “I don’t want to give you false hope. I’m confused about things, but our marriage is over. I just need time. Time to be on my own, figure things out.”

“What about Nate?”

Krissa squirmed under her mother’s inquiring glance. “Same thing goes,” she murmured. “I need to figure out how I feel. But I will tell him about the baby. He has to know.”

“All right.” Her mother nodded. “So. You’ll need things for the baby.”

Lost and Found
Chapter Thirty-Two

Nate stared at the Indian Ocean through the fronds of a palm tree. The setting sun painted the sky mauve and apricot, the wispy clouds darker shades of lavender and peach. Turquoise water washed gently onto white sand. He framed the view into a shot in his mind’s eye.

He’d shot over a thousand images since he’d arrived in Indonesia, and he knew many of them were incredible. Different than anything he’d shot before. He’d been looking for scenes to express the conflict inside him and had created powerfully moving images of strength and weakness, light and dark, yearning and loss.

His cell phone buzzed at his hip and he slid it out of the holder and flipped it open. His brother Rich. Huh.

“Hey.”

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” Nate picked up his beer, the cold glass dripping with condensation in the warm, humid air. “What’s up?”

They’d spoken often since Nate had shown up back in L.A. four months ago. After leaving Krissa and Derek’s place, Nate had driven himself to a motel in Ventura where he’d spent a miserable couple of days, almost out of his mind with everything that had happened. Then he’d managed to get his shit together and drive home to see his parents. He’d spent a few weeks there, told them most of what had happened—his relationship with Krissa too confusing and emotionally raw to talk about—and had reconnected with his brothers.

He’d been shocked to find himself confiding in Rich what had occurred with Derek and Krissa. It had been a relief to share it with someone, to acknowledge the fucked-up mess he’d made of things and the painful feelings inside him. Then he’d hit the road again, back to business, but this time with frequent calls and a couple of quick trips home to his family.

“I ran into someone the other day and had an interesting conversation,” Rich told him.

“Yeah?” Nate leaned back into the thick cushion of the rattan chair on the terrace of his hotel.

“Yeah. A guy from Santa Barbara who knows Derek.”

Nate’s gut clenched. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, he told me Derek and Krissa split up.”

Nate slowly sat up straight. “Split up?”

“Yeah. They’re done. He didn’t know details, not that I wanted to ask much, but…I thought you might want to know that.”

Nate rubbed his face. “Uh…yeah. Wow.”

“I’ll let you go. When are you coming home next?”

“I…don’t know.” He couldn’t think, couldn’t remember his plans. “I’ll call you.”

“Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything.”

Silence. Nate studied the bright floral print of the cushions on the chairs.

“Nate?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Great. Thanks, Rich.”

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it onto the rattan and glass table with a clatter. He pressed the cold, wet glass of beer to his forehead. They’d split up? What the hell? What had happened?

Nate had had a lot of time to think about things over the last few months. He’d learned a lot about himself. The enormous guilt he’d carried about falling in love with another man’s wife—his best friend’s wife—had not been made any lighter by the revelation that Derek had already betrayed Nate with his wife. Two wrongs did not make a right.

But admitting and accepting his own imperfections helped him accept Lauren’s cheating, her senseless death, and to deal with the fact that the baby she’d carried had been his.

Damn Rich for calling and telling him that. His stomach cramped and his heart constricted with worry about Krissa, because now he couldn’t stop thinking about her, all night and all the next day. Ah, who was he kidding? He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since he’d left Santa Barbara. Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t remembered her sweet smile, her sparkling green eyes, the touch of her hands. He ached with missing her, even now, and had begun to wonder how long it would take to get over her. Now, thoughts of Krissa alone, without Derek, obsessed him, occupied every corner of his mind. When he found himself staring blankly through the lens of his camera, not even seeing the subject of the image he was attempting to capture, he knew what he had to do.

Lost and Found
Chapter Thirty-Three

With only one bedroom in the apartment there was no nursery to decorate, as she would have had in the house. But that was okay. Krissa kind of liked the idea of the baby sharing a room with her, especially at first. And she’d start looking for another place as soon as she could afford it. Maybe she could even find a little house.

Her parents had been amazingly supportive and generous. Her small bedroom now held a crib, outfitted in lime green and yellow. Her mother had shopped for baby necessities with a strange pleasure, considering how she apparently didn’t want any grandchildren. Krissa was now stocked up on diapers, onesies, tiny socks that she held up and marveled at. Surely babies couldn’t be that small?

Then she pressed a hand to her growing belly. On the other hand, she hoped the baby was that small, because the idea of the baby coming out was starting to scare her.

She put the socks back in the dresser drawer and wandered into her living room. The Christmas tree sparkled at her with white lights and decorations. Another gift from her parents. She wanted to be independent, but helping her seemed to give them so much pleasure. A Christmas tree wasn’t a necessity, but it made it that much nicer.

Alone at Christmas.

It didn’t scare her as much as it once might have. She sat down in the rocking chair, another gift, and placed her hands on her tummy. She felt a kick first to her hand, then inside against her bladder. She winced, thought about going to the bathroom, then decided she didn’t really need to. Those kicks to the bladder could trick you.

She slowly rocked, the rhythmic motion soothing, the lights of the tree hypnotizing. Outside, rain drizzled down in the darkness, running in rivulets down the windows. In the four months she’d been on her own, she’d settled into herself. Many of the stronger emotions that had tormented her had faded—the sense of betrayal, the anger, the guilt, the confusion.

What hadn’t faded was the intense feeling of missing Nate, of yearning for him, needing to talk to him, to share with him what she’d learned, and especially to share with him the joy of the baby they’d created together. But four months out of a lifetime wasn’t long and given enough time, she’d get past that too.

After Christmas she was going to have to ask Derek if he knew how to reach Nate. If he didn’t, she’d have to track down his parents in L.A. That was going to be weird. But she wouldn’t have to tell them why—although they’d find out eventually.

She thought about Nate all the time. About how he must have felt when he’d found out what Derek had done. Why he’d looked so obliterated the day he’d left. How he’d never dealt with Lauren’s death or betrayal, had just closed himself off to everyone who cared about him.

She hoped he’d reconciled with his parents. After that breakfast in L.A., she’d seen him relax and open up to them. Maybe that’s where he’d gone when he left.

Maybe he’d been traveling the world, taking beautiful pictures. One day she’d Googled him, but couldn’t find anything recent about him.

She rose from the chair, her center of gravity a little different now. She’d have a bath, then time for her and baby to go to bed.

She filled the bathtub with steaming water—but not too hot because she’d read that wasn’t good for the baby—and slipped into it blissfully. Steam curled around her face. She lay her head back on the bath pillow and took a long, slow breath, letting the warmth of the water and the scent of the peach bath oil she’d added relax her.

She’d almost drifted off to sleep, which was not a good thing, when a pounding on her door jarred her to wakefulness. What the hell?

She’d ignore it. Maybe one of the neighbors checking to make sure she wasn’t lonely. They invited her to join them all the time, and sometimes she did, but she didn’t fit in with the crowd of young partiers.

Another burst of knocking. She huffed out a breath. Jeez. She was trying to relax here.

At the third knock, she heaved herself out of the water, grabbed her terry robe and fought to get it on over damp skin. She’d clipped her hair up and little tendrils curled around her face.

She stomped to the door, annoyed at the interruption, and put her eye to the peephole. She drew back sharply. She blinked. She couldn’t have seen right. She looked again.

Nate.

He stood outside her door, scowling at the peephole as if he knew she was there, as if he thought she’d been there the whole time not answering her door. Rain glistened in his shaggy brown hair and on the shoulders of the black jacket he wore.

Her tummy did a little flip and adrenaline raced through her, causing her heart to speed up. Her fingers went to the lock of the door, and she hesitated. Why was he here? Did he know? This wasn’t exactly a good way for him to find out. Oh dear God.

She fumbled the door open with shaky fingers.

His eyes snapped to hers in the opening of the door. She kept it mostly closed, peeked out through the opening. “Nate.”

 

Nate studied the pretty face that appeared in the opening of the door. Cheeks flushed and glowing, dark hair curling around her face, she apparently had been having a shower or something.

“I came at a bad time,” he murmured.

“Um…” She bit her lip, looking adorably uncertain. She stayed behind the door. He could see she wore a robe, thick pink fabric bunched at her throat, covering her completely—so why was she hiding?

“I’m just surprised to see you,” she said.

“Yeah.” Hell, he was surprised, too.

“What are you doing here?”

He glanced behind him. “Uh…do we want to discuss this in the hall?”

Her eyes closed briefly. “No. Of course not.” She looked almost…afraid. Was she afraid of him? “Come in.” She stood back and pulled the door open. He walked in, looked around him at her apartment.

The only light in the small room came from the Christmas tree sparkling in the corner. It illuminated the leather couch, which he recognized from their house, and a rocking chair he didn’t recognize. The place was nice, just…bare. And small. A far cry from the huge five-bedroom house on the beach she and Derek had occupied. Something poked at his heart to see her living like this.

He turned, Krissa still behind him. She gave him her back as she closed the door, all bundled up in that butt-ugly robe. Nah, nothing Krissa wore could be ugly. He’d just rather see her in…less.

She slowly turned to face him, adjusted the belt at her waist.

“Your eyes?”

“Huh?” His gaze roved over her beautiful face.

“Are your eyes okay now?”

“Oh. Yeah. Fine. Back to normal.”

“I’m so glad.”

He was so fascinated with her face, her sparkly green eyes, that lush mouth, he didn’t at first notice that her hands were at a waist that was no longer slim.

A frown tugged his brows together. His breath left him all at once and his head went empty. He took a stiff step toward her. “Krissa?”

Her eyes were huge in her small face. Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip, her fingers toyed with the robe. His eyes went again to her stomach and he moved closer, put out a hand. Hell. Could she be…?

He didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t know what to think. Couldn’t process it all. He laid his hand on her belly, rounded and hard under the soft robe. He lifted his eyes to hers with a question.

“Yes.”

At her whispered word, he looked down again, put both hands on her waist, or rather where her waist used to be. “Oh God.”

Was this his baby?

He’d only just found out she and Derek had split up. He tried to piece it all together. She’d left Derek when she was pregnant? Had they found another donor? But if he was the father, why hadn’t they told him?

Mind reeling with a million questions, he swallowed hard.

“Krissa?” God, she was going to think he’d lost the ability to speak. And, apparently, he had.

“Yes,” she said again, as if reading his mind. “It’s our baby, Nate.”

His knees went weak, and without fighting it, he sank to the floor. Kneeling before her, he pressed his face to her belly, wrapped his arms around her. His chest so tight he could hardly breath, heart pounding, he fought back the tears that stung his eyes. Jesus. He felt her hands in his hair, gentle, tentative fingers stroking through it. All he could do was hold her like that, breathe in the scent of her…warm peaches and damp skin.

“In a few minutes,” he choked out, voice muffed in her robe, “we’re going to have a really big fight. I’m just telling you that so you’re ready. So you won’t run away.”

She snorted out a little laugh, fingers tightening on his head. Then she pushed him away. “Fine,” she said. “You wanna fight? You wanna go? Come on.”

He caught her sparkling, laughing gaze and everything inside him softened and warmed. He let out a long breath.

He climbed to his feet, took her hands in his. “Are you okay?” He searched her eyes. “The baby…everything’s okay?

She nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

“Good.” He focused on breathing, chest still tight.

“So what are you doing here?” She repeated the question she’d asked when he’d been standing in the hall.

“Ah…looking for you.” He shook his head. “Jesus. What a dumb question.”

“So I’m dumb?” She gave him a look, that look he loved, chin down, looking at him up though her eyelashes. Emotion swelled in him almost unbearably. He swallowed.

He smiled slowly. “No. I didn’t say that. Can we sit down?”

“Yes, please. I’d like to sit before I fall down.”

“Oh, bunny. Come on, sit.” He led to her to the couch, tenderness overriding his anger and confusion.

“I got a call from my brother Rich a week ago. He said he ran into a guy he knows, who knows Derek, who told him you two had split up.”

She nodded.

“When did that happen, Krissa? Why?”

“It happened the day you left.”

He felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. “Huh?”

“The day you left…Derek went out and met up with his ‘girlfriend’,” she made air quotes with her fingers. “Or whoever she is. He’d cheated on me with her before, apparently. Some agent who works for him. I was out and I saw them together. I waited up for him and asked him who she was.”

“Oh Christ.” He stared at her, reached for her hands, closed her small fingers in his. “I’m sorry, Krissa.”

“He told me everything, Nate. He told me about him and Lauren.”

“Oh.” He closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. I can’t believe they did that.”

“Neither could I.”

“You must have been devastated.”

He opened his eyes and met hers. “I already knew she’d been screwing around. Finding out who it was with was just…well, yeah, I was pissed.”

“Me, too.”

“So…when you found out, you left him?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Call you where? I didn’t know where you went. I didn’t even know your cell phone number. And I thought you wanted to leave, wanted to get away from us. I wasn’t going to beg you to come back.”

“But…the baby.” He almost growled. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about that?”

“Is this when we have the fight?”

He stared at her, then burst out laughing. “Damn right. I’m pissed about that.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Christ, you make me laugh.” He shook his head, tugged her closer. “But I am mad about that, Krissa. You should have told me.”

“I found out I was pregnant over six weeks later. I kind of forgot about keeping track of things, with staying with Cam and then finding my own place. I knew I had to let you know. I was planning to track you down after Christmas.”

“So you were going to tell me?”

“Yes, of course. You have to know.” She touched her fingertips to his cheek. “I just didn’t want to make any demands on you. The whole idea was that you would just…”

“Donate my sperm.”

“Yes.”

He pressed his lips together.

“And that stays the same,” she assured him. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

A hot knife stabbed into his heart. When he’d agreed to donate his sperm he’d thought he could do it. He’d thought it would mean nothing to him, that it wouldn’t really be his child. Even when he and Krissa had had sex trying to conceive, he’d kept telling himself that. He’d been kidding himself, though. Even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time…now, faced with Krissa, pregnant with his child, the reality was much different.

“Shit,” he muttered and fell back against the couch.

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