“No.” She shook her head, feeling like a broken record. “I really don’t know what else to say, Reed. You don’t owe me anything.”
He stopped in his tracks, then whirled to face her. “Why do you think it’s about me owing you anything? Why can’t you just accept it as a friend helping a friend? I think you’d do the same thing if the tables were turned.”
“Well, that’s not exactly possible.” She grinned in spite of her raised hackles.
He didn’t return her smile. “You know what I mean. You know, you led me to think that you believed in God.”
“What?” Where had that come from? “Of course I believe in God. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Then why don’t you seem to understand the principal of helping a friend in need?”
For some reason, she wanted to wipe the smug look off his face with a slap. But then that would have only proven the point he was trying to make. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I’m just not sure you’ve thought it through. I’ll think about it. I promise. Right now, let’s shoot some pictures before the light shifts and we’ve wasted the whole morning.”
He pulled out one leg of the tripod, then another, telescoping each to its full length. “Okay,” he conceded. “But remember, you promised to think about it. This discussion is not over.”
Chapter 19
Reed lay prone on the forest floor, his digital camera on the ground in front of him. Olivia couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that position.
“Can you give me just a little more light, Olivia? Tilt the reflector a bit to your left?”
But he didn’t sound cute. He sounded frustrated. Reed indicated with hand motions which direction he wanted her to move.
Olivia inched to her left, holding the giant Frisbee-like device with both hands.
He flapped his hands the other way. She moved right.
But from the look on his face at the moment, apparently she wasn’t reading him right. Wouldn’t be the first time.
He’d given her the seemingly brainless job of aiming the reflector at a fern in an attempt to soften the harsh sunlight. But the job was proving more difficult than she thought, and the look in Reed’s eyes told her his patience was waning. Not like she had an endless supply either.
Olivia’s muscles ached from trying to hold the stupid thing steady. The wind attempted to wrest the unwieldy reflector from her hands as if it were a kite. She tipped the reflective surface a few degrees, trying to deflect a ray of light onto the object of Reed’s attention, a delicate fern frond growing out of a rock.
“Whoa…whoa… Not quite that much.” He laid the camera down carefully and scrambled to his feet. “Here,” he said, coming to her side and taking the frame from her hands. “If you hold the frame at ten and two you’ll have better control of it. It helps, if you kind of plant your feet wide too.” He demonstrated, then handed the reflector back to her.
She placed her hands on the device as if it were a steering wheel and attempted to mimic his stance. “I’ve got some issues with balance, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She looked pointedly at her rounded stomach.
“Oh, I noticed all right.” He laughed.
Just then, a breeze caught the reflector from behind, practically lifting her off the ground. She struggled to hang on to the fabric-like disc, no doubt an expensive piece of equipment, and in the process, she stumbled over a rock.
Reed reached out to steady her and instead fell into her, sending the reflector sailing, and knocking her to her knees. The empty tripod somersaulted over them both and Reed ended up sprawled on his back on the spongy floor of the woods.
Olivia’s giggles were squelched when she saw the look of horror on Reed’s face.
His voice quivered as he scrambled to his knees, reaching for her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Just clumsy,” she huffed, taking his hand briefly to steady herself. She sat back on her haunches and brushed the dirt from her palms.
Reed straightened and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her up and down. Then he ran his hands down her arms, as if feeling for broken bones. “You’re sure? The baby…? You’re both okay?”
“Reed Vincent. Quit worrying. Babies are well cushioned in here.” She placed a hand over her stomach. “It takes a lot more than a little tumble to hurt a baby.” It felt strange to refer to it as a baby. She’d thought of it only as a pregnancy so far—and an unwanted one at that—but those words had tripped off her tongue.
Reed stroked her arm, then slid his hand up behind her neck, cradling her head. “You’re sure.”
His gaze searched hers and he was so close she could smell his spearmint chewing gum.
“I…I’m positive.” She tried to lean out of his reach, but he twined his fingers through her hair. For one alarming second, she was afraid he was going to kiss her. “I’m fine.” Her own voice warbled and her cheeks flamed at the tenderness of his touch.
He shook his head, as if sloughing off a bad dream, and let his hands fall to his side.
She pressed shaking hands to the rocky ground and tried to get to her feet.
“Here,” he reached out his hand. “Careful. You’re sure you’re okay? Walk around a little, make sure you didn’t sprain anything.”
If she hadn’t been so unsettled by his gentle attention a few seconds ago, she would have almost found his mother-hen doting humorous. But she was trembling inside, too. And she knew why.
She’d wanted him to kiss her. She had leaned away, resisted, but if she were honest, she knew that she was only doing so for Derek’s sake.
She flung off the thought and looked around for the reflector. It had blown into a copse of trees and was fluttering between two white-barked trunks. She trudged through the dense overgrowth to retrieve it, grateful for something to do besides look into Reed’s eyes.
“Here… Let me get that.”
He was beside her again. Too near for comfort. She felt his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look up.
“I’ve got it. I hope it didn’t get torn.” She made a show of inspecting the reflector for rips.
“It looks okay. Here… I’ll take that.”
“I’ve got it.” Olivia moved away and looked up between the massive branches overhead. Her heart thrummed and beads of perspiration had broken out on her forehead. “Is the sun too high now? For pictures.”
He followed her gaze. “Not if we hurry.”
They both fell into business mode. Reed picked up the camera and fiddled with the settings. She took her place a few feet behind the spot where he’d been shooting. Reflector in hand, she looked down. Then she saw the fern. Or what was left of it. In their scuffle, the tender plant had been trampled beyond recognition.
“Oh, no! It’s ruined.”
His eyes went to where she was pointing. His shoulders slumped when he spotted the wilted fern. Olivia put a hand to her mouth. “Well, that was a whole lot of work for nothing. I’m so sorry, Reed.”
He looked askance at her. “What do you have to be sorry for? It’s not your fault.” He smiled. “Besides, it wasn’t exactly all for nothing.”
The nuance of his smile brought warmth to Olivia’s cheeks and though a part of her thought she should look away, she didn’t.
As if he’d just realized the underlying meaning of his words, Reed looked down. “Besides, there are other fish in the sea…so to speak.”
She studied him, wondering why he’d chosen that particular turn of phrase. Other fish in the sea… Was he trying to make a point that had nothing to do with ferns or photos? But the expression on his face seemed innocent. Far more innocent that he’d been a minute ago with his fingers toying with her hair so appealingly.
Stop it, she chided herself. She changed the subject to force her own thoughts down a different path. “Do you want to look for some other scenes to shoot, or is it too late?”
He gla
nced at the sky. “Let’s walk a few more minutes and see what we find.”
He picked up the tripod, and tamped off the worst of the mud and grass.
Olivia started on through the woods, but Reed’s voice behind her halted her.
She turned to see a pained expression on his face.
“You know,” he said. “I think we’d better head on back.”
“Oh?”
He didn’t respond, but did an about-face and started back through the woods.
She shrugged. “Okay.”
Reed was strangely silent on the trek back to the car. He loaded the equipment into the back of the vehicle, climbed in and turned the key without a word.
But as soon as the engine sputtered, he switched off the ignition. He sat there for a minute, then turned the key and started the car again.
Please, God, don’t let there be anything wrong with the car. After what had happened, Olivia couldn’t think of anything more awkward than being stuck out here alone with Reed Vincent.
But he revved the engine and it roared to life. He put an arm across the seat behind her and skillfully backed several hundred yards down the trail toward the main road.
“What happened?” she asked when they were back on the highway.
He knit his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Is there something wrong with the car?”
He dropped his head and flashed a sheepish grin. “The car is fine.”
“Oh.” She turned to look out her window. Reed was acting strange.
“Olivia?”
She turned again to face him.
“I…I owe you an apology.”
“Reed, I am fine. Would you quit worrying about me.”
“No. You don’t understand. I…I don’t know if you get what happened out there”—he jutted his chin in the general direction of the woods—“but…well, I owe you an apology.”
She tensed, waiting for him to continue.
He studied his lap for a moment, then trained his eyes on the road and let out a low sigh. “I don’t know whether to just let this go or try and talk it out.”
She froze. “I…I don’t understand.” But she was pretty sure she did understand.
“Olivia, the only reason I hightailed it out of there is because I wanted to kiss you so bad I wasn’t sure I could help myself.”
Whoa. She hadn’t expected such subtlety. In spite of her misgivings about Reed’s confession, she almost giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
She hadn’t realized she was grinning “out loud.” But thinking about facing Reed’s question quickly erased any hint of a smile. “Nothing’s funny. I…I don’t know what to say.” What could she say? How in the world was a woman supposed to respond to a declaration like that?
“You don’t need to say anything. I just… I want to apologize. It won’t happen again.” He stared out the windshield.
A chill went up her spine. Was he trying to tell her that he was letting her go? After he’d just promised she could work for him as long as she needed to? “I…I really need this job.”
He looked up, a question in his eyes, then understanding struck. “No…no, I’m not firing you. I’ll just…” He grinned, looking like the proverbial little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I’ll just have to try and…keep my balance next time.”
He flashed a winsome smile—a smile that made her think maybe she preferred Reed Vincent a little off balance.
Reed closed the door behind Olivia and trudged back to the studio. He was a fool. What had he been thinking, opening his big mouth and all but declaring his everlasting love for her? He’d hoped getting things out in the open might clear the air between them. And yes, if he was honest, he’d hoped it might open a door for her to confess that she reciprocated his feelings.
But that was just the problem. She obviously didn’t. She wasn’t ready. It was too soon. He knew that. Why did he have to go and force the issue? Why couldn’t he just be patient and let nature take its course, so to speak? But nature had taken its course, and look where it has almost landed him. He’d put them both in an extremely awkward position…made an employee he did not want to lose miserably uncomfortable even setting foot in his studio, let alone his house.
She’d be home in five minutes. He needed to call her and try to explain. But his pathetic explanations were what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. When would he learn that a man didn’t have to say everything that popped into his mind?
As he passed through the kitchen, he slapped the palm of his hand hard on the kitchen counter. His elbow caught on an open cabinet door in the process. Ouch. Pain shot through his arm, an electrical current kind of tingling that told him he’d hit his “crazy bone.” Grow up, Vincent! The last thing he needed was to injure an arm or hand.
He reached for the telephone and punched in the memory code for his sister’s number in Indiana. Alissa would let him bellyache and then she’d make him laugh and nothing would seem quite as bad as it had before. Maybe she’d even give him some good advice about how to handle this whole thing with Olivia.
On the third ring a squeaky voice answered “Wobinson Wesidence.”
“Hey, munchkin, it’s Uncle Reed. Is your mommy home?”
“Uncky Weed! Hi! I’ll get Mom.”
The phone clattered in Reed’s ear. He smiled. Ali was in kindergarten, but she still bore the tail end of a speech impediment that Reed privately hoped she wouldn’t outgrow for a good long while.
He hadn’t had a munchkin fix in a few months. He needed to take some time off and go see his niece and nephew. But it was a five-hour trip one way and it was getting harder to find a good time to visit now that Ali and Mason were in school.
“Hey, bro!” Alissa’s cheery voice came on the line. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing… I just hadn’t talked to you for a few days. Thought I’d call…”
“Oooh-kay.” Alissa drew out the word and a thick thread of suspicion crept into her voice. “Let’s try that again. Hey, bro. What’s up?”
He sighed heavily into the phone. He never could get anything by his big sister.
“Reed Vincent, if I didn’t know better, I’d think that sigh was a sign of girl trouble.”
How did she do that? The woman could practically read his mind.
“Well… Is it?” He could almost see her wide eyes and surprised expression. “Reed?”
He grinned into the phone, feeling better already. “Man! Don’t bother making small talk before you cut to the chase.”
“Ah-ha! It is a girl. I knew it!”
“Um…at my age, I think they’re referred to as women, but yes, I guess I’ve got woman trouble.”
Alissa’s squeal of delight made him hold the phone at arm’s length. His sister had tried to hook him up with a parade of her friends ever since he and Kristina had broken up. He’d only taken her up on her long-distance matchmaking services once and that had been a disaster of epic proportions.
He put the receiver back to his ear.
“…so tell me, tell me,” Alissa was saying. “What’s the scoop?”
“I don’t know if there is a scoop. I met someone.”
“And…?” He could almost see her jumping up and down.
“Well, I like her. A lot.”
Another squeal. “So tell me about her. What’s she like? Have you asked her out? What’s her name?”
Reed laughed. “Lissa, Lissa, one at a time. It’s Olivia. You know, my assistant. She’s gorgeous. She’s an artist—well, a decorator, really. She’s incredible…”
“But you told me her husband just died a few months ago.”
“He did—and she…she found out she’s pregnant with their baby. That’s the woman trouble. How can I ask out a woman under those circumstances?”
That managed to leave Alissa utterly speechless.
He didn’t blame her. Laying the truth out like that, had shocked him a little, too. And made him sou
nd mildly insane.
Finally his sister found her tongue. “Um…you want to run that by me one more time?”
“See? Now you understand my problem.”
“Reed. Are you serious? She’s pregnant? What have you gotten yourself into?”
He pulled out a bar stool and perched on it, resting his elbows on the counter. This was going to take a while.
“Working together, we’ve gotten to know each other really well. She’s…she’s someone special.”
“I figured that.”
“What? …how did you know?”
“Reed, she’s all you’ve talked about the last few times I’ve called.”
He hadn’t realized. “Oh. Well…I like her, Lissa. A lot. I don’t know how to describe it. There’s just something about her that—”
“Reed…I don’t want to sound skeptical, and granted, I don’t know Olivia yet, but… How can you be sure she’s not just using you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Think about it, Reed. She’s a single, pregnant woman. You’re a rich and famous artist.”
“I’m not famous.”
“Whatever. It just makes me very nervous.”
“Oh, it’s not like that. Not at all. She didn’t even know I had feelings for her until today. And she was uncomfortable with it.”
“Oh.”
“That’s why I called you.” He slid a notepad from the end of the counter and started doodling. “I think I might have scared her off.”
“How pregnant is she?” Alissa was still in skeptical-big-sister mode.
“She just found out a few weeks ago. I think she’s due in November.”
“Good grief, Reed. Her husband couldn’t have died too long ago. Unless—”
“He died this spring,” he interrupted, “March, I think.”
“March? Reed. She’s not ready to start seeing someone else.”
“I know that. I know… But she needs help. Her husband didn’t leave her with much of anything, and she’s got a big mortgage and now a baby on the way…”
Insight Page 13
