A Sky Full of Stars

by Samantha Chase

  It took him a minute, but he agreed, and they bought tickets. Waiting in line, Owen looked around, and she saw him frown again.

  “We have tickets. We’re going to get in.”

  “I know,” he said a little distractedly. “I’m glad Howard opted to stay home.”

  They had woken up fairly early, having fallen asleep in each other’s arms while watching Silver Linings Playbook. Brooke didn’t believe for one minute it was a movie Owen would normally watch, but he had. And he’d held her. And it had been the most perfect night ever. And even though it should have been awkward this morning, it wasn’t. She woke up to slow, sleepy kisses, and if given the chance, she would have opted for them to stay in bed like that all day.

  The man certainly knew how to kiss.

  And touch.

  And…everything.

  Unfortunately, she had been more than a little self-conscious about morning breath and how dreadful she looked after sleeping in her clothes all night. Owen had assured her she was beautiful, but she didn’t quite believe him. So she had jumped up and offered to make coffee while Owen quickly showered and changed. He readily agreed, and once he was ready, they drove to her uncle’s so she could do the same.

  The look on her uncle’s face when they’d walked in the door together had been priceless.

  Shock. Then awkwardness. And then finally…pleasure.

  Pretty much exactly how Brooke had felt and—she was fairly certain—Owen too.

  She had excused herself so she could shower and change, and Owen hadn’t mentioned what he and Howard had talked about in her absence. All she knew was that when she came back downstairs thirty minutes later, they were discussing the museum and Owen had issued the invitation.

  Which Uncle Howard graciously declined.

  And now as they waited in line, Brooke had to wonder why Owen was grateful for her uncle’s absence. “How come?” she finally asked.

  “I think he—like myself—would have enjoyed being able to see some of these exhibits at our leisure. This is the kind of place that is probably more enjoyable on a weekday when there’s hardly anyone around.”

  Brooke leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “Then we’ll just have to try again one day this week so you can take your time and see and touch and explore all you want.”

  She was only partially talking about the museum.

  Owen must have understood her meaning because she saw him duck his head and blush a little.

  She liked when he did that. He might not agree with her reasoning, but in her mind, seeing him blush and seeing that vulnerability made him seem stronger than any man she’d ever known. Someday she might even tell him that.

  Stepping back, she smiled sweetly. “Won’t that be fun?”

  Swallowing hard, he nodded and squeezed her hand. He was saved from having to say anything by the movement of the line—they were being let into the theater. Curious to see where he’d lead them to sit, she kept her opinions and requests to herself. She figured him to be the kind of guy who would find a spot up close or at least in the center of the theater for optimum viewing.

  She was intrigued when he led her to the top row and all the way into the corner. All sorts of thoughts went through her mind from “maybe this is the best viewing spot” and “it’s probably quieter with less likely of a chance for other viewers to interrupt us with their chatter” to something a whole lot sexier when he turned and looked at her. There was heat and promise in those dark eyes that had her tingling.

  Together they sat, hands still linked, and leaned in close to each other. Trying to keep them occupied until the lights went down, she pulled out the brochure they had been given with their tickets and began to read it out loud.

  “For a hundred years, beautiful places like Yellowstone, Yosemite, the Everglades, the Redwoods, and Arches have been living monuments to the nation’s vast and untamed wilderness,” she began. “I don’t think I’ve ever visited a national park. Have you?”

  He nodded. “Yellowstone and Yosemite. Both were part of programs with the planetariums—similar to the one at Red Rock. It’s always exciting to be in such a vast setting that is magnificent on its own and combine it with an astrological event.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to question why it was that those events were different for him than the one at Red Rock, but she pretty much knew the answer. He was leading this one. At the others he was a bystander who could choose to participate when he wanted, and he could blend into the crowd when he didn’t. It made her sad because the man she was getting to know was more dynamic and personable and clever and witty than he realized. But instead, she opened the brochure and continued her commentary.

  “Celebrate the majesty of these treasured landscapes. Join world-class mountaineers and adventure photographers and artist as they bike, hike, and climb their way across America’s most pristine parks, revealing a tapestry of natural wonders that will inspire the adventurer in us all.” Refolding the brochure, she felt sad, and it must have shown on her face because Owen commented on it.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to watch this movie and it’s going to make me wish we could get on a plane tonight and just…go. I’m going to get inspired by the colors and the scenery, and it will be like sensory overload because it’s on this big, giant screen, and I’m mad at myself for not bringing my sketch pad with me.”

  “Well, to be fair, you normally wouldn’t need one for a day at a museum.”

  “Maybe,” she murmured and leaned back in her seat.

  The theater lights began to dim, and Brooke forced herself to push aside all thoughts of paints and brushes and colors and all of the longing inside of her to be a part of what was starting to show up on the screen.

  But she was fooling herself. There was no way to ignore the colors or for her not to imagine how she would make them look on canvas. In the first two minutes, she could feel her fingers twitching with the need to pick up a brush. As if sensing it, Owen lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her. And when she turned her head he was right there. Waiting.

  And all thoughts of painting, colors, and national parks vanished as Owen closed the distance between them and kissed her. Consumed her. Damn near devoured her.

  Yes, the man had some skills.

  She was thankful for the dark theater, the secluded corner, and the loud movie, so she was free to let out a moan of pleasure as his large hands cupped her face.

  And that was another thing—his hands. She was getting addicted to them as well. For such large hands, they touched her as if she were delicate, and really, all Brooke was beginning to think about was how they would feel if they stopped touching her so softly, so delicately, and touched her the way she was aching for.

  So not the place for that thought, but…there it was.

  Owen abruptly ended the kiss, rested his forehead against hers, and gave her a lopsided grin. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly, turning his head so he could murmur next to her ear. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  She knew the feeling.

  “That’s okay,” she replied softly and shivered when his tongue traced the shell of her ear. “I like it when you do that.”

  He nipped at her earlobe and then wrapped an arm around her and turned them so they could focus on the movie again. And for the next thirty minutes, Brooke was beyond content to savor the feel of the man beside her and take in nature at its finest.

  * * *

  The temperature had dropped a little by the time they left the museum. The mild weather of the day before was long gone. They huddled close together as they stood on the sidewalk and contemplated what they were going to do next.

  “Are you hungry?” Owen asked, pulling her closer. “I know we had a late breakfast, but…”

  “We did, but I’m not in a hurry to grab something.”

  He nodded. They had driv
en Brooke’s car to the museum, and so they turned toward the parking garage and began walking. Owen was a little lost in his own thoughts. The movie had been extremely informative and enjoyable, and when it touched upon the Grand Canyon and Red Rock and specifically their brilliance for observing the night sky, he had felt like it was some kind of sign.

  He wanted to smack himself in the back of the head. He didn’t believe in signs. But as much as he kept saying that he didn’t want to take on this project, there were far too many…signs, for lack of a better word, that were telling him to go. Why? He had no idea. All of the trips he had gone on in the past as an observer had been extremely enjoyable—almost life-changing in their beauty—and Owen knew part of the wonder was because of where and how he was seeing the event.

  So why was he fighting this so much?

  Because everyone’s watching you…waiting for you to make a mistake and look foolish.

  But Brooke can help you with that…

  He looked down at her as they walked. Her expression was relaxed, her cheeks slightly rosy from the cool air, and just looking at her gave him a sense of peace. Having her with him on the trip would definitely help, but it was also going to be a distraction. A big one. In fact, he knew it would be hard to even remember to work or talk to his students when all he’d be able to think about was getting Brooke alone and touching her and kissing her and just being with her.

  He stopped dead in his tracks.

  Never before had anything distracted him from his work.

  Ever.

  “Are you okay?” Brooke asked, looking up at him with concern.

  Nodding, he didn’t say anything and started walking again. She didn’t question him, and when they reached her car, she handed Owen the keys and walked to the passenger side. He liked how she let him drive. Of course, it was partially because he knew his way around the city better than she did, but still…

  “Where should we go?” she asked softly, as if knowing his mind was still elsewhere.

  Shrugging, he suggested, “You pick. The museum was all my idea. Where would you like to go?”

  “Oh…that could be dangerous,” she said playfully. “Look how disastrous my suggestion was last night. I don’t think I can handle another awkward art exhibit.”

  That had him laughing. Yeah, they’d probably end up talking about all of the nude pictures they’d seen at some point, but for now he’d like to forget it too. “There’s a simple solution to that—don’t pick anything art related.”

  “Easy for you to say. That’s like me asking you to pick something that isn’t science related. It’s just what we are naturally programmed to veer toward.”

  That was true. “Okay, so we’re not ready to get something to eat, and we don’t want to do anything science or art related.”

  “And we’ve already seen a movie.”

  “I don’t think that counts. It wasn’t a full-length movie.”

  Beside him, Brooke shrugged. “Still, it was moving pictures on a giant screen in a theater. Therefore, it was a movie.”

  Her logic was adorable, and he couldn’t help but laugh again. “All we’re doing is limiting our options exponentially.” He pulled out of the parking lot and turned right—not because he had a place in mind, but because it was easier turning that way. “We could do something spontaneous. Something neither of us would ever typically do.”

  “That would require us thinking about it and planning it, and then it’s not spontaneous.” She paused. “We could walk around, but it’s too cold. We could go shopping, but I’m not big on that.”

  “How is that possible? I thought it was genetic. All women love shopping.”

  She shook her head. “Not me. My mother killed my love of it after so many years on the pageant circuit. Every bit of free time was spent shopping for gowns and dresses and makeup.” She shuddered. “I know she meant well, but it left me with an aversion to going to malls or getting glammed up for anything.”

  He glanced at her like she was crazy. She was wearing makeup, she was dressed in trendy clothes, and she looked amazing. In his eyes, she was glammed up. How much more…everything could she have been for these pageants? Which is what he asked her.

  Sighing, she looked out the window as they drove around aimlessly. “My hair was never allowed to be straight—it always had to be curled. Which is why I wear it straight or clipped up now. So much damage was done to it from all the products and heat, and I’m done with that. Makeup could have been put on with a spackle knife—so heavy and garish. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy wearing makeup; it’s just minimal now.”

  “I had no idea. But then again I never paid much attention to beauty pageants.”

  “There was so much pressure to be perfect all the time—to have my hair and makeup done perfectly, and my clothes always had to be designer and whatever was trendy. But the worst was the pressure to stay thin. I like food. I enjoy eating, and for so many years I had to exist on salads and water and go to the gym to stay fit.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “Every minute of every day was scheduled for me based on what competition was coming up. I know it sounds crazy because some people had real struggles, but to me, it was brutal.”

  The pain in her voice spoke volumes, and he hated that she had felt such anguish. He had no idea such a thing existed—not the pageants but the pressure. He took her hand in his and squeezed it and did his best to move on from that particular topic.

  “If you could do anything you want right now, what would it be?” He paused before adding, “The first thing that comes to mind.”

  “Painting in a national park,” she said quickly and then started to laugh. Turning her head, she looked at him. “I guess that movie got to me more than I wanted it to. All I could think about in the beginning was how jealous I was that I wasn’t in one of those parks with a canvas and some paint.”

  An idea began to form in his mind, but it was very impulsive and totally out of character for him. It would require being so far out of his comfort zone that it threatened to paralyze him. But when he glanced over at Brooke and saw the serene smile on her face as she continued to chatter about the ideas she had gotten from watching the movie, Owen knew he couldn’t just push his idea aside.

  If nothing else, he had to at least mention it to her. Of course, there was a chance she’d think he was crazy and wouldn’t agree to it anyway, but she could love it and want to go for it. Then what would he do?

  “…I think of the layers in the rock, and it’s just so amazing to see! Some of those lines are so incredibly straight that it shouldn’t be possible, but it’s the different colors that catch my eye. I would love to get close enough to touch them and smell them.” She stopped and chuckled. “I know it sounds weird, but sometimes a scent will inspire me. That’s why I love painting outdoors—the fresh air is never the same twice.” Looking up at him, she added, “You think I’m weird, don’t you?”

  Owen shook his head. He would never think that about her. About anyone. He knew how hurtful it was when people labeled you as such. “No, I don’t. I find what you’re saying to be fascinating. I don’t tend to see things the way you do—I’m a little more black and white. I would look at the layers in the rock and the colors from a scientific standpoint. I would reason why the colors are the way they are but without seeing them. You really see them.”

  Her smile broadened. “I do. And I know not everyone looks at things the same way, and that’s what makes life interesting. We all don’t have to see the same things the same way. It makes for great discussions and conversations. Can you imagine if everyone looked at, say, the Grand Canyon and went, ‘Well…that’s a big, brown canyon’ and moved on?”

  The simplistic example had him laughing. “That would definitely be—”

  “Boring,” she finished for him. “It would be boring. No two people should see it the same way. We all have different emotio
ns, and I know if I ever went to see the Grand Canyon in person—and stood on the canyon platform—I’d probably be at a loss for words because I would be filled with awe!”

  “How do you know that for sure? Maybe you’ll be the one to go and say it’s a big, brown canyon. You might be disappointed,” he teased.

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “A person would have to be an emotionless robot to have that kind of reaction,” she countered. “Its size alone is enough to make you react with awe. So even if you didn’t notice the colors, the pure scope of it would invoke some kind of reaction.”

  He hadn’t thought of it that way.

  Interesting.

  “So you want to go and touch, paint, and smell the Grand Canyon?”

  “Hell yes!” she laughed. “Why? You want to hop a plane and do that tonight?”

  Without conscious thought, they had ended up back at Owen’s hotel. Owen pulled into the underground garage and parked before turning toward Brooke. She was still chuckling, and it appeared she hadn’t noticed where they were yet.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Let’s get on a plane to Nevada tonight.”

  Chapter 6

  Six hours later, Brooke still couldn’t believe what was going on.

  She was in Nevada, currently checking into a hotel in Las Vegas because it was the easiest place for them to get reservations on such short notice. As Owen checked them in, she stood beside him, looking around at the massive lobby of the hotel. It was at the end of the Strip, and there wasn’t a casino, and to her it was perfect.

  The flight had taken less than four hours, but all of the rushing they’d done to get packed and to the airport on time had left her more than a little exhausted. Physically. Dealing with her family when she’d called to let them know where she was going had been mentally exhausting. Luckily, Uncle Howard had taken the phone from her hands and talked his sister out of her panic attack over her only daughter going off to Vegas for the weekend with a man she’d just met. A small giggle escaped as the reality of that statement hit her.