It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2)

by Wendy Owens

  “Was he the one texting you before we got on the flight?” When Aiden asks the question, I realize just how unprofessional that must have been.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  Aiden sits up, dusting the dirt from his hands and back. “Don’t be. You’re my assistant, you’re entitled to a life.”

  I shake my head. “He’s having a hard time letting go.” Why am I telling him all of these things?

  “Exactly my point,” Aiden chimes.

  I furrow my brow in confusion.

  He continues, “The texting. He’s begging for you to come back to him, right?”

  “Yeah, I mean, I suppose,” I reply with hesitation.

  “And you say you were in love with him?” Aiden continues his thought.

  “And?” My patience is growing thin.

  “If he did nothing wrong, and you were in love, then he had to have done something to merit him pleading for you to come back,” Aiden explains his logic.

  “You’re making it far too complicated,” I assure him. “He’s a good man. I’m just not in love with him anymore, though I’m not sure how any of this is your business.”

  “You’re the one that decided to tell me about him. I’m just telling you how it is.”

  “And how is it?” I quip.

  “You were never in love with him.”

  “Excuse me?” I gasp, shock rippling through me at the nerve of his statement.

  He shrugs, his eyes fixed on mine. “I’m sorry, but that’s bull, you don’t just fall out of love with someone unless they betray that love.”

  My heart twists in pain from his words. Doubt creeps in from the back my mind, fearing he’s right. “And I suppose you’re an expert because you’ve been in love so many times?”

  For the first time, Aiden looks away from me focusing on the horizon. “No.” His voice is softer now. “I’ve never been in love. It’s not really for me.”

  “Not for you?” I repeat.

  He sucks in a sharp breath, and I can sense his relaxed state has given way to frustration. “Trust me, you don’t want me to expound on that.”

  “I don’t make it a habit of asking questions I don’t want answers to,” I inform him firmly. My cheeks burn as I become increasingly irritated by the fact that he felt he could just go and question the entire validity of the relationship between Ben and me.

  I can’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Who does he think he is? Staring causes me to note how the bridge of his nose slopes perfectly, to the rounded, slightly rose-tinted tip. And how his bottom lip is firm, and while I would easily call it full, it is still masculine. Focus, Kenzie!

  He narrows his eyes, lifting his knees and resting his cupped hands on them. “It’s been my experience that the people who are looked at to be lesser in this world are often the most beautiful, like the Bushmen for example. The people in our world, they all have agendas. They’re fueled by lust or greed, eager to judge, and slow to forgive, but for some insane reason, these are the people society tells us we should strive to mate with, to stake our claim on. The problem I’ve found is that they aren’t worth the ink. So no, love simply isn’t for me.”

  “Are you telling me you have never loved anyone?” I glare back at him, certain he’s hiding something.

  He sighs, and I can tell he’s debating if he should reveal the truth or not. At last, he lifts his shirt to reveal the image just under his arm, on his rib cage. There’s a beautiful woman, eyes closed, a ribbon billowing behind her. She looks so peaceful. Scrolled above her is the word ‘Destiny’ and at her feet, ‘never forget.’

  “It’s beautiful,” I offer. “You must have felt something pretty incredible for her.”

  “It’s my mom,” his voice is low. I’m shattered and feel almost inconsiderate for ogling him moments before. I recall the story I’d read online about his mother and how she took her life after he was kidnapped as a small child.

  How could I have known? The question shot through my mind.

  “We better get packed. We have a long day of shooting ahead of us.” He changes the subject, hopping to his feet, not even a glance in my direction.

  My heart is breaking. I wish more than anything I hadn’t let my anger and frustration lead me down this path. Aiden was right, I was quick to judge, my words obviously hitting too close to a tender memory. Maybe he was right about everything? What if I never was in love with Ben?

  I shake my head. He can’t be right about that. I know what I felt.

  I CLOSE MY EYES AND run through my mental checklist one last time. This is my chance to prove not only to Aiden that he made the correct choice in hiring me, but also to prove to myself that I’m capable.

  Coffee. You never know how much you need it until it’s not readily available. Hours have passed since my interaction with Aiden. Since he pretty much told me he thought the relationship I was being tormented over was average, and nothing to be upset about. He doesn’t even know me! My face flushes red from frustration again. Damn, I’d give anything for a cup of coffee right now.

  I’ve become paranoid that Aiden is doing his best to avoid me since we last parted. If my suspicions are true, then he is doing a good job of it, because in a small area of only thirty physical bodies, he’s managed to not reveal a single hair on his head to me. At first, I was relieved, but now I am getting irritated. I mean hells bells, I’m behaving like a professional. I expect the same of him.

  I circle to the back of the truck and slam the doors, confident after the thirteenth run through of the bags that we have everything we could possibly need for the shoot. My head swivels around, and I can’t withhold the cry that squeaks out. Drawing in a deep breath, trying to calm my now racing heart. I’m standing face to face with Aiden.

  His expression shows he’s pleased that he has startled me. “Jumpy much?”

  I clear my throat, refusing to acknowledge his achievement in scaring the daylights out of me. “Everything’s ready.”

  I rub the back of my neck, my eyes shifting around to the entourage walking up behind Aiden. Jumanda smiles, nodding his head in my direction. Two men I haven’t met yet flank him. Their skin is dry and cracked and reminds me of leather. Both are adorned with beaded necklaces similar to the ones I helped make just yesterday. A minuscule piece of animal skin hangs at their waists, and a handmade bow is slung over the shoulder of one of the men while the other carries a spear. They both beam a smile in my direction. Jumanda introduces them and explains they’ll be our trackers.

  Aiden wastes no time explaining what will happen. Once we move a few miles out from camp, we’ll park the SUV, and the rest will be on foot. Before I realize it, my face betrays my fear, my eyebrows lifting.

  “Well, I suppose you can stay in the truck if you feel safer,” Aiden offers.

  “Safer? Did I say I don’t feel safe?” I bark, infuriated he’s again questioning my commitment. First, to Ben, and now to my job.

  His face falls in disappointment, then his eyes lock back on me. “I was just saying—”

  “That I’m not up to doing my job,” I challenge defiantly. I see the Bushmen over Jumanda’s shoulder snicker, delivering silent elbows to one another as they watch the drama unfold.

  Chill out Kenzie, he didn’t mean anything by it. I force the thought into my mind, trying to steady my rapid breathing.

  “I’ll be fine,” I say in a softened voice, mustering the best smile I can fake.

  An hour later I’m knee deep in dry grass with critters I’ve never imagined even existed scurrying all around me, including a scorpion that one of the Bushmen decided he would pick up and play with. I can’t help wondering if perhaps Aiden was right, and I should have stayed with the truck. I swallow hard. If he’s right about this, he might be right about me never being in love with Ben. He’s not right about any of it, I reaffirm silently.

  I pull my hair up into the opening of the back of my hat, yanking the bill down to protect my eyes from the sun. One of our track
ers explodes in a silent but wild dance, waving his arms. He whispers something in Jumanda’s direction, and before I know it we’re actually on the trail of the black rhino. I hand Aiden the tripod from my left hand, then retrieve one of the cameras that’s slung over my shoulder. Securing the 600mm, twenty-pound lens to the end, I wait and watch.

  At this moment, I can’t help being a bit awestruck once again that this is actually my life. I’m slinking through waist-high grasses in Africa, following Bushmen as we are hot on the trail of the endangered black rhino.

  The gold of the grass glints as it sways back and forth in the wind, the sun catching its subtle movements. To my right, just in front of a large sand dune, I spy the long neck of a giraffe. He’s looking at me as if I must be lost, then turns back to rip off another mouthful of green leaves from the top of the tree with his long and slender pink tongue.

  Jumanda moves to my left and whispers, “over there used to be a river.”

  “Where did it go?” I ask, curious how a river could just disappear.

  “Dried up long ago,” Jumanda explains.

  “It’s so flat,” I remark, looking at the land around me.

  Jumanda nods, then lifting a single hand in my direction, motions for me to stop and be silent. His back stiffens as his eyes move to our guides.

  And then it happens.

  We see the massive and majestic creature standing several yards away from us. Everyone drops low, and I watch as Aiden jumps into action. The way he moves. It’s almost as if his feet are gliding just above the earth.

  My adrenaline is pumping, coursing its way through my veins, and all I can think is I want to be part of this moment even more than I am now. Removing one of the cameras from around my neck, I enact all the things I read through in my recently downloaded how-to photography book.

  Staring at the small square, it’s not the black rhino in my viewfinder. It’s Jumanda and the trackers. There’s an elegance and a mastery in the way they work and communicate. A harmony with the land they have survived on before the rest of the world was even a thought. There’s no fear at this moment. There’s only the exciting thrill of capturing an image that tells one of the purest stories I’ve witnessed in my life. I snap away.

  Once I finish, I place the spare camera back on my hip and glance over my shoulder at Aiden. He’s watching me. He looks at me, a question in his eyes. He shakes his head as if to shrug the thought from his mind and returns his attention to the subject we’ve been searching for all day.

  Do your job, Kenzie, I think to myself. And I do, anticipating each one of Aiden’s needs before the thought crosses his mind. Triumphantly, I dare him in my mind to question my commitment again.

  HER HAIR IS UP IN a messy knot, her scoop neck shirt revealing the roundness of her shoulders in the flickering light of the fire. A strand of hair falls in front of her face, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. She looks powerful; I think she could be mistaken for a deity. I want her out of my thoughts, but I can’t seem to pry her loose from every inch of my mind.

  The way she tromped out into the bush alongside all of us, so confident. The moment the camera was in her hands, and she thought no one was watching—it was like she was set free. She’s a mystery I want nothing more than to solve.

  Her gaze is distant. Is she thinking of him—her ex who seems to be haunting her memories? A woman doesn’t just leave a man she supposedly loves for no reason. What could he have done to lose her affections? She seems to have dove into this new future. I can’t tell if she’s on a journey toward something or running away.

  Does her skin feel like velvet? She’s looking at me now. My heart beats faster in my chest. She’s walking toward me, pauses, allowing a dancer to move past her before continuing on her path that leads her directly in front of me.

  It’s impossible to see much more than flickers of color in her eyes, the darkness shielding their truth. She kneels and I stop breathing. Her lips move in close to my ear, and all I can think is I hope she kisses me. A random kiss would make no sense, but I still dream of it; the excitement of it. She detests me. But maybe— just maybe, she’s swept up in the excitement of the healing dance surrounding her.

  She breathes out, and the hot air from her mouth grazes against my skin, and I shiver. “Would you mind if I borrow one of the cameras?”

  As she pulls back, awaiting my response, I heave in a gulp of air, realizing I’m still not breathing. I cough, the sharpness of smoke from the fire piercing my lungs when I finally take a breath. My skin flushes red.

  “Are you okay?” She asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I fumble for a moment, nearly falling off the log I’ve been crouched on all night. There’s a ringing in my ears from the momentary lack of oxygen. I nod, lifting an open-palmed hand to show her I just need a moment. Coughing again into the other hand I attempt to regain my composure. Smooth. Real smooth. I chastise myself silently.

  “Smoke,” my voice cracks as I nod in the direction of the fire. I fall to my knees before pushing myself back into an upright position to step out of the circle.

  She takes my arm to help me, her skin brushing against my own. It is like velvet.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” her concern seems genuine, and I wish this didn’t surprise me the way it does.

  “I guess you take my breath away,” my eyes roll back in my head as soon as I say the statement. She doesn’t laugh, only offers an innocent smile. You’re her boss. She thinks you’re a tool for sure now. “Sorry, that totally came out sounding like a jackass.”

  “It’s okay, I have that effect on men,” she jokes, squinting, wrinkling her nose, and then laughing at herself.

  I slow and let her go first as we move toward the SUV. “So, you going to let me borrow a camera or what?”

  “Oh,” I exclaim. “Of course.” Pulling open the rear door, I grip a camera in my hands and turn, extending it in her direction. “You seemed to like the 7D today.”

  Her head jerks up in my direction, “you saw?”

  “I see everything,” I laugh.

  She swipes the camera from my hands, and examining the body, leans on the bumper of the SUV. “That’s not creepy at all.”

  I shrug. “I guess we all have a talent.”

  “And yours is being creepy?”

  I laugh at her question. “No, don’t you remember?” I ask, thinking back to the night we had dinner in Chicago. She seems puzzled. “It’s being intuitive.”

  Her eyes are fixed on the movement in the distance around the fire for a second, before looking back down at the camera. She flips through the digital images she took that day. “If you say so.”

  My brow wrinkles, everything in my brain is telling me to stop, don’t say the words I’m thinking, but my mouth refuses to heed the wisdom of my brain, “Did I hit a little too close to home last time?”

  “What? In the city?”

  I nod.

  She looks at me quizzically, then her face shifts and a smirk appears. “I’m afraid I don’t even remember what you said.”

  I throw my head back, examining her top to bottom. She’s lying.

  “There’s a lot more I’ve observed about you since then.”

  She laughs. “Oh yeah?”

  I shrug, “I can’t help it. I’m just naturally able to read people.”

  “Okay, fine. Let’s hear it,” she challenges, only briefly making eye contact.

  I study her. Looking her up and down, eager for the opportunity to drink her in without the fear of being caught. “The way you carry yourself—you’re confident.”

  “So far so good, but I think just about anyone could have figured that much out. What else ya got, pretty boy?” She taunts.

  I tilt my head and continue, “Nothing scares you. Wait—no, not much scares you.”

  “Please, do tell, what scares me?”

  I shake my head, “I don’t know, but it’s clear you’re running from somethi
ng.” She’s not smiling anymore. I feel a pang in my chest as I quickly realize I’ve crossed a line. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “No!” She nearly shouts before regaining her composure. “Please, go on.”

  “I’m full of crap, just ignore me.” I dismiss myself.

  “No, I want to know exactly what it is you think I’m running from,” she demands.

  I wait for her to say something else, but she doesn’t, it’s clear I’m going to have to explain my statement. I want to tell her I was just trying to fill the quiet while also trying to learn more about her. But I can’t.

  “I’m intuitive, not psychic,” I bark more than speak.

  “I think we both know what you’re trying to say.”

  I laugh uncomfortably, raising my hands. “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything.”

  “You think I’m scared of my relationship with Ben.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Where in the hell did that come from? I think.

  “Good!” She shouts, “Because I’m not. I’m the one that decided to leave and it sure as hell wasn’t because I was scared of anything.”

  “Look—” I lower my voice and move in close to her. “I was just goofing off, I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?” She barks, lifting the edge of her hand to her eyes. I realize just how much I’ve hurt her. The situation is quickly spiraling out of control.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasp in desperation, reaching for her arm. “I’m so sorry. I don’t hate you, I really like having you around. You work hard, and I gotta say, you’re a natural—“

  A low rumbling laugh cuts off my words. I look closer to see Kenzie is in fact not crying, she’s laughing. And this is no ordinary laughter. She’s holding her side, doubled over struggling to catch her breath.

  “What the hell?” I gasp.

  “I’m sorry,” she heaves, returning to an upright position, covering her mouth for a moment. “I couldn’t resist.”

  “You were just giving me a hard time?”

  She nods. “Yup, you’re so intuitive, I would have thought you would have figured it out.”