LOST
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I rested my forehead against hers. “I’ll be seeing you,” I said hoarsely.
She hummed. “Soon.”
She let me go. I walked back to my truck, and it took all my will not to look back, not to throw my resolve to the ground and give in.
I had nearly reached my vehicle when I heard her call out.
“Thank you!”
I had to look back. She was standing in the doorway, smiling and waving, her sweet brown eyes sparkling.
Just like she had when I sent her out to find that fucking trail.
I lifted my hand in acknowledgment and got the hell into my truck before I did something really stupid that would definitely blow our tentative arrangement out of the water.
*****
Keeley
I found myself moping around the cabin after James left.
And I did not mope. Ever. I was always in motion in California, always too busy to think.
Maybe that’s the problem.
I’d never had time to think about what I wanted from life because I was too busy handling the one I had.
I stroked a hand down the beautiful sculpture James had given me, feeling the warmth of it beneath my fingers. It was strange that wood could feel so vibrant, but it did, which was a testament to the skill that he had with his art.
The technique is so much like the piece I coveted years ago.
Curious now, I pulled out my laptop and flopped onto the couch. I wasn’t sure if I could actually find a catalogue or photos of the old exhibit, but I really wanted to compare James’s sculpture to the one I’d wanted to buy when I’d gone to the event.
Do I just think they’re similar when they’re really not? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the other piece.
I was grateful that I was currently getting good internet reception, and I started a search by putting the name of the exhibit into the search engine.
I wasn’t immediately successful, but one thing led to another until I found an old site that actually still had information posted about that show.
And finally, there it was. I sighed as I saw a picture of that breathtaking piece. I read the brief identification underneath the photo:
Fire and Fury by James Lancaster.
“James? James?” I muttered.
It struck me then that I didn’t even know James’s last name.
I hurriedly carried the computer to the table, gasping as I made the photo larger, and sat it right next to the carving he’d given me.
Even though they were completely different, and brought forth different emotions, I could feel the similarities in the technique.
My pulse kicked up as I started researching the artist behind the Fire and Fury sculpture, my heart telling me something I hadn’t been able to recognize before.
It took me a while, but I finally found a short bio for James Lancaster, and discovered that the sculptor lived among the wood he carved, in the Colorado Rocky Mountains.
I closed my laptop.
I didn’t really need any further information than that.
Oh, my God, it’s him!
“Why?” I uttered softly. “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”
I felt disappointment and sadness wash over me, and my stomach dropped as I realized James didn’t entirely trust me.
Even though I hadn’t found a picture of James Lancaster, I already knew that the highly sought-after artist and my James were one and the same. If I hadn’t been able to put it together, I would have to be a moron.
It’s him. Even if the facts hadn’t fallen together so easily, I could feel it in my gut that I was right.
Maybe I’d suspected it the moment I saw his carvings, but the mountain man I knew and the world-renowned artist, James Lancaster, were just too incongruent to meld together as one person in my mind.
What the hell?
The man drove a pickup that was beyond ready for a junkyard.
He lived in a very rustic cabin.
He had none of the necessities that everyone else couldn’t live without, like a cell phone and a computer.
Honestly, James lived like a poor hermit, and he seemed perfectly content to live that way.
James Lancaster had to be a millionaire many times over.
Not that I minded how James lived if he was happy.
But he wasn’t.
He lived that way because he was haunted by his past, not because he had to live that way.
He had been giving himself a life he thought he deserved.
“Oh, James,” I said in a shaky whisper.
I was hurt because he hadn’t told me the truth about who he was.
He’d said that he trusted me.
Now, I just wasn’t sure about who he was at all.
Chapter Sixteen
James
I’d only made it halfway back to my cabin before I turned around and drove back to Keeley’s place like a man possessed.
She wasn’t leaving until tomorrow, and I sure as hell wanted to make use of every second we had.
The moment I pulled back into her place, I sprinted to the door with fear nipping at my heels.
No time to lose.
What if she doesn’t come back again?
I need every second I can get to pull her closer to me, so she comes back.
“James? You’re here?” Keeley said with a puzzled look on her face as she opened the door.
I walked my muddy boots right into that clean, glassy cabin, wrapped my arms around her waist, and crushed her mouth with mine.
Damned if I care about messing up the pristine cabin floor with my dirty work boots.
Maybe I hadn’t wanted this whole situation to get messy because I wasn’t into complications.
But for Keeley, I was ready for our relationship to get just as convoluted as it had to be to keep her in my life.
I felt her body tense as I kissed her, even though she responded after a second or two.
I pulled back. “Something’s wrong,” I surmised as I looked into her dark eyes. Before she could tell me all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together tonight, I started to speak. “I had to come back. I know it might seem impossible to fall in love with somebody in a matter of a few days. But I am in love with you, Keeley. We can take all of this slow and easy. And you don’t need to say anything back to me. But I had to tell you how I feel.” My tone got huskier as I took her by the shoulders and fell into her eyes. “I’m not letting go this time. Not with you.”
She kicked the door closed and turned her back on me as she walked to her couch and picked up her laptop.
I followed her because I couldn’t not follow her.
She picked her computer up and handed it to me. “This is your piece. Fire and Fury. The sculpture I wanted several years ago but couldn’t afford. You’re James Lancaster,” she said stiffly.
I shrugged, trying to figure out why she’d suddenly went so cold on me. I guess I hadn’t told her my last name, but did that really matter? I was getting uncomfortable because I was thinking that maybe I shouldn’t have just spilled my guts about being in love with her. Maybe it was too soon. “Fire and Fury is mine. I let a dealer have it to put it into an exhibit. It sold. I didn’t know it went to California. If you want it, I’ll try to track down—”
“That’s not the point,” she interrupted, her tone so sad that it made my chest ache. “You lied to me, James. You never told me that you were James Lancaster.”
I hadn’t. She was right. Although I’d never lied, exactly. “Does it matter?” I asked. “And I never lied. I guess I just never mentioned my last name, but was it really that important?”
I put the computer back on the couch. Keeley glared at me, and I suddenly realized I didn’t like being the target of her anger very much.
“Of course it matters,” she said tightly. “That’s one whole portion of your life you didn’t share. An important part. Were you afraid I’d go after your money if I knew?”
I scratched at my beard. �
��It never even entered my mind,” I said honestly. “You knew everything that was important. You knew how important my work was to me. You knew my occupation. You just didn’t know my last name. Keeley, I told you shit that I’d never share with anybody else. And you’re upset because you didn’t know my last name?”
She lifted a brow. “Being one of the most renown sculptors in the world isn’t important?”
“Not to me,” I confessed. “I’ve never been after the money or the fame. I just wanted to do what I was meant to do. I found out what that was out here in the mountains. I found…part of myself.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You live like a hermit.”
I shrugged. “Probably. But I’ve always had everything I needed. Until I met you, all I was obsessed about was creating my next piece, pouring out my emotions into my sculptures. But that isn’t my only purpose anymore. I meant what I said, Keeley. I’m not giving up on us.”
“You gave me that piece from your cabin like it was nothing,” she said quietly. “It’s worth a lot of money.”
“It was a damn gift, and it made you happy. If I thought you’d take them, I’d give you every single carving I have at my place just to keep you smiling. Hell, I can make more. I have more money than I can spend in a couple of lifetimes. Why would I need more?” I created because I had to, not so I could make more money.
I still sold my work, because if I didn’t, I’d run out of space to put my carvings.
I frowned as I saw a tear leak from Keeley’s eye because I knew damn well she wasn’t the type of woman who cried easily. I hadn’t seen a single tear when she’d been hurt and scared after the slide, so that tiny droplet that hit her cheek ripped my heart out.
I had hurt her. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And that nearly destroyed me.
“So you didn’t hide the truth?” she asked cautiously as she swept the tear away.
“Hell, no. Why would I? You know the ugly truth about everything I’ve done in my past, and why I’m here.”
“You’re hiding,” she accused.
“Some,” I confessed. “But I’ve pretty much discovered that I belong here, too. Yeah, I need a new truck, and my place could probably use some work.”
“Probably?”
“Okay, yeah. It needs a ton of work. But I’ve always been there alone, and the place is a rental. Nobody ever saw it but me, and I was usually wrapped up in a project.”
“And when you’re working, you give it everything,” she added.
“No reason not to,” I said gruffly. “What else did I have?”
“You could have gotten out, met your adoring fans. Honestly, you could have done anything you wanted to do,” she pointed out.
I put a hand to the back of my neck to rub out the tenseness there. “Unless you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a people person.”
She snorted. “I noticed.”
I was silent for a moment before I said hesitantly, “I never meant to deceive you, Keeley. Since all that other stuff doesn’t matter to me, I just never mentioned it. It’s not really part of me, if that makes sense. Yeah, I hear about my success, but I’ve never really seen it since I don’t get out into the world much. It’s not real to me.”
She stared at me like she was still trying to decide whether or not I was being honest. “Believe me, you are famous out there in the art world,” she snipped. “You must already know that your sculptures command top dollar.”
I shrugged. “I know. I’ve got the money in the bank, but that’s not my definition of success.” I hesitated a moment before I asked, “Are you sorry that I came back?”
She was quiet, and the silence stretched out to what seemed like a damn eternity.
Finally, she shook her head. “No. I’m not sorry. I was hurt because I thought you just didn’t want to share everything with me. I believe you, James. Although it seems absolutely crazy that you didn’t think your fame mattered. I guess I’ve just spent so much time in Hollywood where name recognition is everything, that I never thought about the possibility that it just wasn’t important to you.”
I reached out and swiped a second tear from her face. “Don’t cry,” I insisted. “You matter to me, Keeley. And I haven’t cared about anybody for a long time.”
I heaved out a sigh of relief as she threw her shapely, warm body into my arms. “You really are crazy, James,” she told me again as she hugged me tightly and pressed her body into mine.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and got just as close to her as I possibly could. I could feel my body shudder when I realized she wasn’t going to just walk away. “I hope you like lunatics,” I grumbled as I swung her into my arms.
I went to the couch and sat down with her sprawled out in my lap.
She swept another tear from her cheek as she smiled. “It seems that I absolutely adore them.”
My heart thundered in my chest. I wrapped my arms tighter around her waist, like maybe I was afraid she’d get away. “Enough to be part of my future?”
“Definitely,” she confirmed as she rested her forehead against mine. “It might not be an easy relationship with me in Los Angeles and you here right now, but we’ll make it work. We have to because—I’m in love with you, too.”
“You don’t have to say that,” I answered hoarsely. Jesus! Those words had almost given me a heart attack, but I didn’t want her to say them just because I had.
She put a gentle hand in my hair, and I savored the warmth of the simple caress.
“I’m not. I wanted to say it, too, but I was afraid I’d scare you off,” she teased. “And I was afraid it was too soon. I’m not the type of woman who just jumps into anything like this, but I’m certain. I came out here to find something, James. The part of me that was missing. And I found…you.”
I grunted. “Not exactly what you wanted, probably.”
She kept stroking my hair as she replied. “You’re what I needed. I guess I wasn’t searching for myself. I was looking for you. You’re the part of me that was missing. You’ve taught me how to be still. How to be quiet. How to see things as they really are, and to find peace. I guess I couldn’t do that on my own.”
Strange as it might seem, I wasn’t so sure I hadn’t somehow drawn her to me because I needed her. “You’re an extraordinary woman. You would have eventually figured everything out for yourself.” I was thrilled that she thought I’d taught her anything, but I doubted there was much she couldn’t do on her own.
Because I couldn’t help myself, I grabbed her face in my hands and kissed her. She melted into me so quickly that it made my cock harder than a boulder.
I finally lifted my head and looked at her. There they were. Those chocolate brown eyes that made me feel so damn accepted that my fucking chest started to swell. Keeley made me feel human again, like the man I was supposed to be, and I didn’t plan on disappointing her in the future by being anyone else.
Sure, I’d still be a crazy artist who got lost in his projects, but with her, I’d be so much more…
Maybe I hadn’t meant to deceive her, but it was humbling that she’d fallen for me thinking I was just a normal, struggling artist.
“I want to stay with you tonight. I don’t want to waste a damn second of the time we have,” I grumbled.
“Me, either,” she mumbled softly. “I’ll cook us some dinner.”
“Then you’ll never get me to leave,” I warned her.
I was grateful that she didn’t look worried about having me stay at all as she lowered her head to kiss me.
She wants to be with me, stubborn ass and all.
For me, that seemed like a damn miracle, but I wasn’t about to question the best damn thing that ever happened to me.
Tomorrow and the rest of our future would work itself out. I could feel it in my gut.
Right now, I just planned on spoiling her for any other man.
I was going to make damn sure she came back to me, over and over again.
Epilog
ue
Keeley
Summer had come and gone so quickly that it was scary.
The valleys around the Rockies bloomed with wildflowers and weeds, but I knew they’d be gone soon. However, I also knew that when they disappeared, the mountains would bring on something else to marvel over. There were clear skies and strong breezes that blew away the clouds and brought in something new every time I came back to Colorado.
Technically, we were just at the beginning of fall, but the weather had been kind, and it was still warm.
I let out a sigh as I looked at the mountain peaks. My mind quieted, and all I could feel was a sense of peace and happiness because I was back where I belonged. I’d fallen in love with Colorado, these mountains, this place, and I felt a sense of relief that I’d left the city behind me.
I pulled my small four-wheel drive SUV into the driveway of the beautiful cabin that had once seemed like a death sentence to me.
Now, it was home.
As soon as the place I’d stayed in on my very first visit to Colorado had come up for sale, James had instantly bought it. It tugged at my heart that I knew he’d done it for me. If he’d still been alone, I doubted that he’d have bothered to upgrade.
We’d gotten the pristine cabin messy together and had enjoyed every moment of it, filling it with memories, pictures, James’s art, and stuff that would always remind us of how good our life was together.
James and I had made the place ours, and we already had so many good memories of the last six months or so that we’d spent together in our new home that my heart pounded with excitement as my vehicle came to a stop.
God, I’d missed James so damn much.
Granted, I’d seen him just a few weeks ago in Los Angeles, but I felt like he took another piece of my soul every time we had to separate.
I smiled at the shiny new pickup in the driveway. James said he’d only bought it because he didn’t think I deserved to be riding around in his clunker.
I sighed as I gathered up my stuff from the car. The guy was so damn indulgent when it came to me that it was almost ridiculous. But that was James; he was always ready to give me anything and everything I wanted.