It starts drizzling and Natalya turns her face to the sky. “It’s going to pour. Let’s go inside.”
In the kitchen, James drops the bottles into the recycling bin. He yawns deeply. “I’m going to turn in. Thanks for the beer, and the talk.”
“Sure, that was nice.” She glances toward the stairs that lead down to the first level. “I hope you don’t mind I put you in my office. My dad is expected back soon and we usually meet there to catch up when he returns from his business trips. I can have the boys bunk together and move you up to one of their rooms if we become too intrusive.”
“I should be fine.” She had him on a pullout sofa in her office. She’d made the bed and left out towels and soap for the adjoining bathroom.
“Do you have everything you need?”
“I think so.” He starts moving toward the stairs, then stops. “Thanks for letting us stay.”
Natalya is staring at him, watching as he leaves. Her shoulders rise and fall on a long breath; then her eyes lift and meet his. “Of course, you’re family.”
“Ohana.”
She smiles. “Yes, ohana.” She twists her hands.
The gesture makes him uneasy. “Everything all right?”
She nods and circles a hand as though erasing her thoughts. “You move like him. I mean, you move like yourself. I guess I expected there to be more of a difference than just your names.”
“We are different. I bet by tomorrow evening you’ll kick me out because I’m too much of a snob for you.” He points at his collared shirt.
She laughs. “I doubt that. But, speaking of tomorrow, I have work to do. I hope you don’t mind that I have to encroach on your space.”
“Not at all. I’ll take the boys exploring.”
“Well . . . um . . . good night, then.” She moves toward the hallway that leads to her room.
“Good night, Natalya.” James watches her go. Carlos would have kissed her good night. Or taken her to her room. Made love to her until they crashed, gasping and sweaty, on rumpled sheets. He read those passages multiple times, often wondered how different Carlos was in bed. Would Natalya sense the difference should she close her eyes?
He inwardly groans. Why is he even thinking of sleeping with her? They just met.
With a tinge of embarrassment, he scratches at the back of his head and turns away.
“James?”
He swings back around.
“Julian told me you’re leaving him and Marcus here.”
When will Julian understand he won’t abandon them? “What else did he tell you?”
Natalya comes back into the main room. “He doesn’t believe you want him. And Marcus believes anything his brother tells him.”
James swears. He rubs his forearm, scratches the bite on his elbow. “I’ll be honest; it was rough those first few weeks when I surfaced. Getting our lives in order hasn’t been easy. Okay, it’s been extremely difficult, and that’s putting it mildly.” He slightly smiles with the admission. “But they’re my sons. I love them, and I’ll never leave them behind. I just wish they’d believe that.”
When James initially came to, he and his sons had been confused and scared. While Carlos had prepared Julian for the possibility it would happen, it didn’t make the situation any less frightening. Or had Carlos’s instructions to Julian. He’d told his son he might forget him and need help being a father again. He’d also warned him that James might not want them and they could go live with Aunt Natalya. James could kick his other self in the ass for that. The kid was ten years old at the time. What had he been thinking?
“I don’t know what Carlos told his sons, but he thought you might be like your brothers.” She looks him up and down. “You aren’t like them, are you?”
“Hell, no.”
“Knew it.” She reaches for his hand. “I want to help you.”
“How?” He watches her trace the lines on his palm. That slightest touch buzzes through him. He feels it all the way up his arm. His throat thickens with unshed emotion.
“My nephews trust me. Let them watch how we interact and see that I like you. Let them see that I trust you.” She lifts her gaze and meets his. “Maybe they’ll do the same.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, staring at her. He can see why Carlos loved this woman. And she just admitted she likes him, James. “Thank you.”
“May I ask you something?”
He nods.
“May I hug you?”
“Ah . . . sure.” He opens his arms and she walks into his embrace, settling her ear above his heart. He stands there, arms out, pulse thrumming, unsure what to do. Does he hug her back? Should he hold her? Then he feels her body heat seep into him. He finds it comforts him and he releases the breath he wasn’t aware he held. He folds his arms around her.
Natalya hums, a contented sound. Then after a few beats, a few meditative breaths, she whispers on a sigh, “Same heart.”
CHAPTER 20
CARLOS
Five Years Ago
August 15
Los Gatos, California
Several weeks after Aimee showed up in Mexico and Imelda told me what she knew of my situation and the role she played, I received a package in the mail from Thomas. An iPhone. Aimee had downloaded James’s contacts, music, and photos from his iCloud account when Thomas got word to her the phone was for me. Just in case I found use for it.
I hadn’t, until now.
I’d brought the phone with me and charged it while I showered. Natalya brewed coffee and when the phone could be powered on, she scrolled through James’s contacts. Then she looked through his photos.
“There are a lot of pictures of you and Aimee,” she said, her tone flat, giving me the phone after I’d dressed. She twisted her hair, her attention drifting to my phone on the desk where there were plenty of snapshots of us.
“Hey,” I murmured. My hand cupped her face. I skimmed my thumb over her freckled cheek, the skin as smooth as expensive bedsheets. “I love you.” I kissed her gently, then rested my forehead against hers. “You.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just . . .”
“You don’t have to come with me.”
“Yes, I do. Someone has to protect you so you aren’t knocked over the head again.”
We both laughed uneasily.
“Have you looked through the pictures?”
I shook my head. Seeing James’s life through his pictures was a gamble with my mind I didn’t want to take.
She moved away from me and grabbed her purse. “I found the address where you lived. We should go.”
We now sat in the car Natalya had rented, parked one house down from the one I owned, or had owned. Two boys played catch on the lawn, and the woman sitting on the porch was not Aimee.
“She must have moved,” Natalya surmised.
I’d told her on the way over that Aimee and Ian had recently married. That part of my conversation with Thomas I did remember.
A dull ache burned across my forehead. I scooped out the two aspirin I’d brought with me from my front pocket and dry-swallowed them.
Natalya passed over a bottled water. “How many have you had since I woke you up?”
I chugged half the bottle. “Six, I think.” I screwed on the cap and returned the bottle to the center console’s cup holder. “They aren’t helping.”
“Maybe we should go to the hospital.”
“No. No doctors. I don’t want anyone else messing with my head. I don’t want to forget my sons.” I grasped her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Or you.”
“God, you’re stubborn. No doctors, unless your headache gets worse. Promise?”
I leaned across the front seat and kissed her. “Promise.”
She turned on the ignition “Where to next? The café?”
The dash clock read 5:56 p.m. “We don’t have time. The café closes at six.”
“So, what’s the plan?”
I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes against a wave of light-headedness. “I was thinking Aimee’s parents’ house. They can tell us where she’s living. But I need to eat something.”