Oslo Overtures

by Marion Ueckermann

  Brandy looked up from her bed. “I thought you’d never get out of that water, roomie.”

  “Can’t get enough of those bubbles.”

  Smacking her hands on her legs, Brandy stood. “Speaking of bubbles, I’m heading downstairs to join the guys for drinks—and some food.” She stopped as she opened the door. “Join us later?”

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “You could just drink, then.”

  Anjelica smiled and grabbed the hairdryer. Not likely. She tied her hair with an elastic band before stepping into her favorite jeans, softening the look with a sleeveless white chiffon shirt. It spilled over the top of her jeans, flowing around her body. A pair of white pumps completed the ensemble. The final touch was a spray of her favorite perfume.

  She was about to step into the passageway when she remembered the novel. The characters on the cover looked so like her and…Kyle Sheppard. Lookalikes or not, it was her and The Lucky One for the next few hours. If she bumped into anyone, hopefully they wouldn’t notice the similarity.

  Anjelica headed downstairs.

  The sun still shone high in the sky. Judging by those gathered outside for drinks, it was fairly warm. The rest of the team were probably still having dinner, or christening the hot tub already.

  A handful of guys sat around the bar. She sank into the leather chair furthest from them. She opened her book, eager to enjoy the relative quiet while it lasted. The party outside was already growing rowdy. Thank heaven for double glazing on the windows that muffled their bantering. She should have an hour or so before they spilled inside.

  Halfway through the third chapter, Anjelica kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up on the seat. Some of the wingsuiters had made their way inside. The bar area buzzed. It wouldn’t be long before the rest followed. She sank lower in the chair, too engrossed in the story to want company, not quite ready to be alone upstairs.

  “Mind if I sit here?”

  Anjelica started at the familiar voice. She hadn’t heard Kyle approach. His hand rested on the back of her chair.

  “The seat’s free…”

  ~*~

  For a while, Kyle had nursed water at the bar, watching Anjelica as he tried to pluck up the courage to approach her. When she didn’t object to him occupying the seat angled beside hers, separated by a small table, he sat down. He tucked his e-reader into the side of the chair. The gentle smell of her spring flowers perfume wafted past.

  She raised her book. It would be difficult to start a conversation with her, let alone apologize. He retrieved the e-reader, unzipped its leather cover, and turned it on. He tried to read, but it was impossible to concentrate with her so close. His gaze kept straying from the typed words toward her.

  She lowered her book, resting it in her lap. “Good thing your rain dance this morning didn’t turn the skies gray, Mr. Sheppard. That’s a color I’m certain neither of us favor.”

  He set his e-reader down. “Mr. Sheppard is my father.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I told you before to please call me Kyle—it rolls off the tongue far easier.” He couldn’t prevent his smile from widening. “And you’re right, I don’t favor gray, especially not above me.”

  Laughter spilled from her.

  “Did I say something funny?” Kyle let out a chuckle, too.

  She set her novel down on the small table. “It’s nothing you said. I just remembered how worried I was this morning when your team started doing that strange dance. ‘There goes our wingsuiting for the day,’ I thought. And all day long I kept waiting for those clouds to roll in.”

  “The Haka’s a far cry from a rain dance, which, by the way, is performed by American Indians and the natives of Africa, not us Kiwis. So, you had nothing to fear.”

  “That puts my mind at rest regarding this week’s weather. But tell me…Kyle…what other mischief could your Haka have evoked?” She glanced at her novel.

  Kyle followed her gaze and stared at the figures on the front cover—one blonde, one dark-haired. It was hard not to notice the strange anomaly. Had she seen it too? He smiled. “None. I promise.”

  Silence descended like a Nordic winter’s sunset—too fast, too soon—with nothing spectacular or welcome about the change. Just a deathly quiet.

  Anjelica grabbed her book, leaned back in her chair, and opened the pages.

  Had he lost another chance to redeem himself and make amends?

  ~*~

  Anjelica peered over the top of the pages. Kyle held his e-reader again. Pity their conversation had been short-lived. She had to get his attention. She set her book on the table, slid back into her pumps, then rose. “I’m going to get a drink. Would you like something?”

  Kyle looked up. “A bottled water would be great.” He dumped his e-reader down beside her novel and sprang to his feet. “Wait. Sit down. I’ll get our drinks.”

  A hint of his aftershave tickled her nose. Woody. Manly. She breathed in deep.

  His hand touched her arm. Warm. “What would you like?”

  You. She felt her face flush. She should sit down, create some space between them. If only she could move. It was thrilling to be so close, to feel him touching her skin. She shouldn’t…but it had been so long since she’d felt this way.

  Kyle waved his hand in front of her face. “Anjelica?”

  “I—I’ll have a bottled water, too. You can put it on my tab—room 202.”

  He grinned and she noticed the tiny dimple on his left cheek. “I’ve got this. Still or sparkling?”

  “S—sparkling, please.”

  “Of course. What else would an angel drink?”

  She’d take that remark as a compliment.

  With a smile, Kyle walked away.

  A flutter skittered across her stomach, reminding her of the times Erick and she skimmed pebbles across the still waters of Innvik fjord as children. She couldn’t revisit those feelings. Not with another wingsuiter. And especially not a foreigner who’d be flying off into the sunset soon.

  ~*~

  Bowls of peanuts dotted the bar counter. Kyle leaned against the wooden surface. “Two waters, please—one sparkling, one still.”

  The bartender reached for the waters from the fridges beneath the counter.

  “Oh, and give me a glass with ice as well.” Kyle grabbed a few nuts. He brushed the salt from his hands and looked across at Anjelica as he waited. Why did she have to be so beautiful and irresistible? He’d come to Norway to fly for the team, not fall for a girl.

  “Do you want to charge this to your room?”

  Kyle’s head snapped back. “Please. 305.” Once again his gaze veered Anjelica’s way.

  “She’s a keeper, that one.” The bartender pushed an ice-filled glass next to the two bottled waters. “She one of the team?”

  “Lead flier.” A strange sense of pride swelled inside Kyle.

  “Adventurous, beautiful, and successful.” The bartender shook his head. “I wouldn’t hang around here too long if I were you. You don’t want to let her slip through your fingers.”

  Kyle gripped the bottles in one hand, the glass in his other. He smiled. Walking away from the bar, he made a decision, one that could change the course of his life forever.

  The bartender had given good advice, which he intended taking.

  4

  Kyle’s e-reader caught Anjelica’s attention the moment he turned his back. What was he reading? For a few moments, she resisted the urge to pry, until curiosity got the better of her. She leaned forward and turned the device around. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she took a quick peek.

  Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

  The Psalms? Wow. Unexpected.

  Anjelica glanced at Kyle. He smiled as he grabbed the two bottled waters and a glass filled with ice. The pebble skipped across the water again. She leaned back in her chair. Had he seen her taking a peek? Her hea
rt still pounded when he placed the drinks on the table beside their reading material.

  “I brought a glass in case you don’t like drinking out of a bottle. And if you don’t like ice, I can throw it away.”

  How thoughtful. “The bottle’s fine. Thanks.” Anjelica examined his drink. Water, too…but still. Were they totally opposite or quite alike? Anjelica was anxious to find out.

  He reached for her bottle. So did she. His fingers covered hers for an instant before he pulled away. “I’m sorry.”

  She tipped her head and smiled. “It’s OK.”

  “I was going to pass your drink to you.”

  Kyle lowered his gaze to the table, a little too long for Anjelica’s liking. Her heart dropped in a freefall. Was he examining the novel’s cover, or contemplating continuing his reading? Either option didn’t bode well.

  He reached for his water. Bottle in hand, he sank into his chair and cracked open the cap. He drank and then pulled the half-empty bottle away. Water spilled down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  “So, The Lucky One…any good?” His smile filled with mischief. He had been examining what she was reading.

  Anjelica couldn’t point fingers though—she was guilty of the same offense. She shifted in her seat, kicked off her shoes, and then curled her feet up on the chair again. Had he noticed the similarities on the book cover, too, or were the likenesses merely a figment of her imagination?

  “Pardon?” Now why did she say that? She’d heard him well enough. He’d only repeat the question.

  “The Lucky One…is it any good?”

  She stared at a tear on the knee of his jeans. Tanned flesh teased from beneath the frayed threads.

  Kyle cleared his throat, his gaze trained on her, waiting.

  “Oh. I—I’ve just started reading. I’m only on chapter three, but so far it’s good.” Please, please don’t ask me anything else about this book. She needed to change the subject fast. “What are you reading?”

  Kyle set the bottle down then traced his fingers across his e-reader before looking back at her. His eyes narrowed and a wrinkle formed across his brow. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because it’s happened before…with other people, of course, not you.”

  “People have mocked you because of your reading preference?”

  “Sometimes. More often they mock my beliefs and my being open about them.”

  She knew that feeling.

  Their eyes locked and Anjelica saw more. He’d been hurt, too. “I give you my word.”

  He gave a weak smile.

  Was he nervous?

  “OK. I believe you,” he finally said. “I’m busy reading through my favorite book, the book of Psalms. I find such encouragement within its pages.”

  “But surely reading the Bible in a public place is just putting yourself slam-bang in mockery’s path?”

  “Probably, but it’s one sure way to sift out the little lambs in wolves’ clothing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not sure how to explain myself without sounding…arrogant.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

  Anjelica gravitated toward him.

  He unclasped his hands and raked his fingers through his hair before wiping his face. Then once again, he clasped his hands together. “Ever since I became renowned as a wingsuiter a few years back, women have…well, flocked to be around me.”

  “And they didn’t before?” Anjelica felt the heat rise to her cheeks again.

  His mouth curved, and then broke open into a grin. “You’re right. I was never short of…options. But when notoriety struck, everything kind of got out of hand.” His face darkened. “Problem was, none of the women were ever interested in the real me. Every time I thought I’d found someone who was different, who cared, I’d find they were just the same as the rest—only interested in the adventure that shadows me.”

  “So who is the real Kyle Sheppard?”

  Kyle lifted his bottle and swirled the contents around. “Me? I’m just an ordinary guy, looking for an ordinary girl who’ll love me way less than she loves my God. I’m not sure I’ll find someone who wants to be with me more than she wants to be seen with me.” He reached over and traced the characters on the paperback. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling.” He looked up at her. “You’re easy to talk to—when I get past putting my foot into my mouth.”

  Anjelica touched his hand briefly and smiled. “For the record, Psalms is my favorite book, too.”

  His eyes lit up. “Really?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely. After all, what book in the Bible mentions wings more than the book of Psalms?”

  “Ezekiel.”

  She slapped her forehead. “Of course. But, does it count? I mean, who can understand that book?”

  “Ah, but which is better for a wingsuiter to claim for his own—the psalmist or the prophet? Listen to what Ezekiel says…I memorized this because it’s one of my favorite passages…’I looked, and I saw a windstorm coming out of the north—an immense cloud with flashing lightning and surrounded by brilliant light. The center of the fire looked like glowing metal, and in the fire was what looked like four living creatures. In appearance their form was human, but each of them had four faces and four wings. Their legs were straight; their feet were like those of a calf and gleamed like burnished bronze. Under their wings on their four sides they had human hands. All four of them had faces and wings, and the wings of one touched the wings of another. Each one went straight ahead; they did not turn as they moved.’” He grinned. “How’s that for formation flying?”

  “Pretty awesome.” Why hadn’t she seen that passage before?

  Kyle fiddled with the tear in his jeans. “Would you know of a good church I could attend tomorrow?”

  “I know just the place. I was planning on going in the evening. Would you like to join me?”

  “For sure.” He relaxed into his chair. “How about that? I came down here to find a corner to read, and look what I found: a ride to church, someone who shares a passion for my favorite book, and best of all, a little lamb who is actually in lamb’s clothing.” He picked up Anjelica’s novel and wiggled it. “Guess I’m the lucky one.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you calling fluffy?” Then she laughed. She hadn’t enjoyed talking with a man like this in a long time. Not since—

  “So, what kind of story is it?”

  His question interrupted her thoughts. Mercifully.

  He flipped the book over to the blurb. “Action? Thriller?”

  With a cover like that? Beth Green locked in Logan Thibault’s embrace… She hesitated and took a swig of water. The bubbles tickled her tongue. “Romance,” she offered once her mouth was empty.

  “Romance?” He leaned in closer. “Have you ever been in love?”

  His question caught her by surprise. She blurted out the honest answer.

  “Twice.”

  “Twice?”

  Yes. The first time and the last. Puppy love. True love. Neither had lasted. Both had hurt unbearably.

  “Are you still in love?”

  He was direct.

  The bottle touched her lips again, this time for far too long. Would its slender shape hide the tears that stung? She closed her eyes, placing a lid on the boiling pot. Like a runaway fire, their conversation had spread out of control. Anjelica knew she should contain it, but maybe it was time for her to rise from the ashes of her past.

  ~*~

  Kyle sensed he’d gone where this angel feared to tread. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He shook his head. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I?” He looked down, grabbed his foot and brought it toward his mouth.

  Anjelica giggled as she wiped the corners of her eyes. So he had seen tears glistening. She touched his hand, stopping the shoe from reaching his mouth. “It’s all right. I probably wouldn’t like you as much if you didn’t.”

&
nbsp; She liked him? He’d made the right decision at the bar. Seated on the edge of his chair, Kyle leaned over and cupped her cheek. Her skin was soft as a cloud. Swept up in the moment, he closed his eyes as his lips found hers. She responded to his kiss for one heavenly moment before she pulled away.

  Kyle slipped off his chair and fell to the floor. He rolled onto his back and laughter bubbled up from his belly. He’d known from the moment they’d met that he could fall for this girl—he just never imagined it would be like this.

  His chortles subsiding, Kyle propped himself on his elbows and looked up at Anjelica. A blank stare held her face captive. “Anjelica?”

  No response.

  “Anjelica?” he tried again, leaning forward.

  Nothing but the gentle tracing of her finger across her bottom lip.

  He knelt in front of her. “Angel…”

  She turned slowly until she faced him. Her face gave away no clues as she fixed her gaze on him.

  Kyle had no idea how to react. Was she happy that he’d kissed her? Sad? What if the kiss was bad? Maybe, deep inside, she was angry that she’d kissed him back.

  All of a sudden, she rose. “I—I have to go.” She pushed past him and rushed toward the glass doors leading outside.

  ~*~

  She’d been ready to bare her soul to Kyle, and then he kissed her, and she kissed him back, and that’s when it all became scary.

  Was she really ready to move on? How do you give up a memory you’ve cherished and clung to for three long years?

  Anjelica shoved her way through the crowded patio, ignoring the wolf-whistles and offers of a drink. Why had she chosen this exit route? Why had she run at all? She’d almost cleared a path through when a hand grabbed her wrist. He’d followed.

  Heart pounding, she swung around. Disappointment crushed the moment’s elation. “Erick.”

  “Are you all right?”