Last Summer(31)

Ella pushes out a breath and gives him a reassuring smile. But he doesn’t join her at the table. He leans back against the counter, ankles crossed and left hand tucked into his pants’ front pocket. He drinks his coffee and continues to watch her.

“So . . . how do you want to do this?” she asks. “Sit here or over there?” She gestures at the L-shaped leather couch. It’s deep, sturdy, and well worn. A perfect fit within the home’s aesthetics.

“Outside,” he says.

“Outside?” Ella glances out the windows behind her. It’s cold out there. Is he crazy?

“I thought we’d go for a hike.”

In the snow? He’s certifiably insane.

Of course his dogs don’t share Ella’s sentiment, clearly knowing the word hike the way a city dog would know the word walk. Sitting by the front door, they whine, excited, tails thumping, front paws prancing. Bing picks up his water pack and gives it a good shake. Another water pack, Fred’s, rests against a compact backpack. Nathan has everything set and ready to go.

“There’s snow.” Ella states the obvious.

“Yeah,” he remarks like it’s no big deal. “The trail’s relatively flat and the snow’s worn down. We’ll be fine. The dogs and I hiked it the other day.”

She stares at him. “You’re serious about this?”

“Completely.”

“I—I’m not dressed to hike,” she sputters. Any other day and under any other circumstance, she’d be game for an adventure. But up here, she’s isolated with a man she has a shared history with. What if she ticked him off last summer and he plans to push her off a cliff?

Don’t be ridiculous, El.

She imagines Damien laughing at her, shaking his head. He’d then kiss her and reassure her she has nothing to worry about. People know she’s here. Nathan wouldn’t do something stupid, not when she’s the one he invited up here to help him. He wants an article in Luxe Avenue specifically, not Outside, a more logical choice given his audience. Ella intends to find out why.

Nathan eyes her attire: turtleneck sweater, skinny jeans, and calf-high leather boots. “Hold on a second.” He crosses the expansive room and goes downstairs.

Ella looks at the dogs. “Is he always like this?” Going places and doing things? She doubts she can convince him to sit still for the length of time she anticipates for their chats.

Fred lets out a yelp. Bing shimmies closer to the door so that his side is plastered to the wood like Velcro. His jaw clamps on to his water pack.

“Guess that’s a yes.”

Ella packs up her laptop and slips the recorder into her pocket. Today’s interview will be conducted on the go.

Nathan returns. He sets a pile of folded clothes and a jacket on the table in front of her. Drops a pair of hiking boots at her feet. Ella peeks at the size on the hiking pants and her stomach turns over. She doesn’t have to look at the number inside the boots to know they’re an eight-and-a-half. She can just tell. She also knows Nathan’s wife is petite. These items don’t belong to Stephanie Donovan.

Her heart knocks against her chest. Her hands grow clammy.

“It isn’t coincidence that these are my size, is it?” she asks, keeping her tone steady.

“Nope. They’re yours.”





CHAPTER 13

“Mine?”

Ella sits there and stares dumbly at the clothes. She doesn’t recognize them. She doesn’t remember purchasing or wearing them. The feeling is similar to what she felt several months back when she boxed her maternity clothes and put them in storage. It’s as though they belong to someone else.

“You took them backpacking and then left them with me,” Nathan says, nodding toward the clothes and boots. “You wanted to keep them here, just in case.”

Just in case of what? Ella lifts the pants to look at the long-sleeved white hiking shirt underneath. Not only did they hike together, but they clearly shopped for this outfit. How comfortable had they been with each other?

“Come on, we’re wasting daylight.” Nathan claps loudly. The sound echoes off the high walls. “Ready, boys?”

Fred and Bing bark enthusiastically.

“You can change in the bathroom. It’s over . . . there.” He points past the staircase and takes a second glance at her. “Hey, you okay?”

She looks at him, then presses her abdomen to settle her nerves. Nathan’s gaze drops to her hand. He swears.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Concern softens his features. He gestures at her midriff. “Can you hike?”

She frowns. “What?”

“It’s an easy hike. Slight incline. Shouldn’t be too strenuous considering you . . . um. Your . . .” He draws a line across his pelvis.

She realizes she’s holding her hand directly over her scar. “Oh.” She’s been running up to eight miles four days a week for almost two months. She’s conditioned, but of course Nathan doesn’t know that. She lets her hand slide away. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“The clothes. They caught me by surprise. I don’t remember them or your house.”

He nods. “We’ll take it slow. You aren’t acclimated. The dogs and I usually make it there and back in just under three hours. There’s a spot I want to show you. We can talk there and have lunch before we head back.”