Last Summer(27)

She approaches the house, mounts the porch steps, and rings the doorbell. She waits. And then waits. A minute or so later, she rings again, following it up with a knock on the solid wood door. From somewhere deep in the belly of the house, dogs bark.

Is he home?

She looks around. One of the three garage doors is open. Parked inside is a black Chevy truck. Maybe he’s out back.

Ella follows the deck around the house to the back and stops short, startled. The view is breathtaking, unexpected. So is the man leaning against the railing. She should have anticipated him, but seeing him lounging there, staring off over the canyon below, uncaring that he’s expecting a guest and not greeting her at the door, is unnerving. He drinks from a steaming mug, either unaware she’s there or choosing to ignore her.

A board creaks under her boot. He jerks his head in her direction. Recognition sparks in his eyes. Caught off guard, Ella rocks back a step but quickly chastises herself. She may not know him, but he knows her. She solidly plants her feet and smiles.

Nathan smiles back, his teeth bright against a jaw dusted with a week’s worth of growth. He straightens to his full height. He’s taller than she anticipated, and her gaze drops to the heavy boots he wears, the soles an inch or so thick. His mountain man outfit of jeans and a flannel shirt, unbuttoned over a graphic navy T-shirt with the Heavenly Ski Resort logo, tells Ella he’s acclimated to the cooler climate. He’s not wearing a coat and she’s shivering in hers.

“Hi, Ella.” His voice rolls over her, deeper and richer than the one she heard over the phone or in his Off the Grid! episodes.

Unsure if she should wave at him or hug him, Ella approaches and thrusts out her hand. “Nathan Donovan? Ella Skye. I know we’ve met but—”

She stalls when his gaze falls to her hand, then slowly rises to lock on to her face. He frowns, and a short laugh erupts from him. It tells her exactly how ridiculous her greeting seems to him. So formal.

“But,” she presses on, “there’s something you should know. I had an accident last November and suffered some memory loss.”

“This is a joke, right?” The corner of his mouth twitches. There’s a glint in his eyes. He eases in on her, head angled to the side, looking at her curiously, and for a split second she thinks he’s going to kiss her. She also thinks he believes she’s messing with him.

With a pounding heart, she holds up her hands. “I’m afraid it’s not. I’m also afraid we have to start from scratch. I don’t remember much from our time together before.”

“You’re serious.” He frowns. “How much is much?”

She glances at the trees beyond the deck and back. “Anything.”

His eyes go wide. “Anything?” He chokes out the word.

“But,” she rushes to explain, “I promise our time together won’t be wasted. It won’t take nearly as long as it did last time, I’m sure of it. You know me, and I bet you’re comfortable talking with me, that’s why you asked for me specifically. You want to tell me your story, and we both want to share it with your audience and Luxe Avenue’s readers. I’ll do it justice, I promise.”

His laughter is gone. His nostrils flare, and a muscle throbs in his cheek as he clamps his jaw. He looks away from her, taking in the snowcapped mountains. Shadows elongate with the setting sun. She notices his white-knuckle grip on the handle of his mug when he turns back and glares at her.

“This won’t work.”

She blinks. “What won’t work?”

“The interview.”

“Why not?”

“Sorry you drove all the way up here. There’s a hotel in town if you don’t want to drive back tonight.”

He puts down the mug and abruptly walks off.

What the hell?

Okay, she anticipated she’d have to do some negotiating, but the cold shoulder he gave her? She didn’t foresee that.

Her fault. She barely gave the guy a chance to say hello before she blurted everything. Nerves kept her yapping.

Nice going, Skye. Rookie move.

But reluctant subjects aren’t foreign territory. She’s handled them before and Nathan isn’t any different. Patience and some word finesse, that’s all it should take. She’s got to appeal to him on a level he’ll understand.

Ella follows Nathan toward the front of the house. She calls his name. “Wait up.”

He turns around, walking backward, hands up to ward her off. “I told you. I changed my mind. We’re not doing this.”

“Why not?” she pushes. “You called us. You asked for me. You insisted I meet you here.”

“We spent two weeks together last time. I don’t have time to start over.” He bounds down the steps. Long, determined strides take him toward the open garage. Gravel crunches under his boots.

Two weeks? She thought they’d spent ten days together. Where did those extra days come from? What did they do?

“Give me five days,” she negotiates, falling into step beside him. “That’s all I need.”

“I leave for Alaska in three.”

“I’ll go with.”

He laughs. “Nope. Not happening.”

“Why not? Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll make the arrangements. Give me two hours a day, three max. That’s all I ask. Outside of that, you won’t even notice I’m there.”