During the hardest times in her life, when she felt twisted up inside, the only chance she had of making it through in one piece was if she was putting her feelings down on paper, one image at a time.
So that's what she'd do now, in this cabin on the ocean in Big Sure, with Luke sleeping on the couch beneath a soft blanket she pulled up over his naked body. Even though she already knew that this time the problem was bigger than her pencil and paper.
Chapter Twelve
Where was she?
Luke kicked off the blanket and sat up, looking for any sign that Janica was still there. But her clothes and her bag were gone.
She was gone.
No!
It was almost impossible to breathe until he walked to the door and saw her sitting on a rock just off the deck, her head bent down over her notepad as she captured the setting sun over the ocean.
My God, she was beautiful. How had he missed seeing her all these years?
Or had he?
His brain spiraled back five years to their meetings about Lily and Travis. Hadn't there been something there? An attraction he hadn't wanted to acknowledge because she was so young, so impetuous, so forward and overtly sexy.
He saw her pencil still on the page, knew she sensed his presence.
Turning her head to look at him, she scanned his naked body with a saucy grin. “It's been a long time since I did a figure model drawing class. You would've caused a riot. For the girls and the boys.”
Looking down at himself, he shook his head. He hadn't even realized he was still naked. All he could think about when he woke up was Janica.
If she had left.
Or if she had made the choice to stay.
Closing her notepad, she stood up and said, “I'm starved. Have you got any food?”
“I don't know.”
He hadn't been thinking about food when he got here. Just getting drunk.
And feeling sorry for himself.
Moving past him, the soft fabric of her shirt brushing lightly against his already half-mast cock, she went to look in the refrigerator. He had his pants on by the time she pulled out some eggs, a block of cheese, and some sausage.
Watching her maneuver around the kitchen gave him another chance to see her in a completely new light. He'd never thought of her as someone who would even know how to boil water, let alone whip up omelets.
Minutes later, she was pushing a plate over to him. Coming to sit beside him at the kitchen island, she smiled and said, “Sex always makes me hungry,” before forking out a bite from the plate.
“This is great.” The best omelet he'd ever had. “Where'd you learn to cook?”
“Thanks,” she said. And then, “Lily taught me when we were kids.” She shrugged. “I guess she figured since we were fending for ourselves she wanted to make sure I never starved if something ever happened to her.”
She'd been so young when her parents had died and the Aunt who had taken in Janica and Lily wasn't exactly the motherly type.
“It must've been hard for you.”
Again, she shrugged. “Lily took really good care of me. Better than most of my friends’ parents.”
He knew what she was doing, trying to act tough, like she hadn't been hurt. Because that was just what he'd always done. What he was still doing.
“Still, there's a difference between a sister and a mother. I'm sorry, Janica.”