Read Lost Her (Lost #1) Online

Authors: Ginger Sharp

Lost Her (Lost #1) (3 page)

BOOK: Lost Her (Lost #1)
5.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Ooh I see the jungle” he snorts out a laugh, “How come you do not drive to school, do you have a car?” he asks.

I see Katie left out some details. “Yes, I have an old Land Cruiser and I do not like to waste gas, plus in order to get more gas, I have to get half way to Límon in Cahuita. I like to save the gas for market trips,” I reply.

“Wow, is money that tight for you? Katie said something that you were seriously penny pinching,” he asks.

“No, money is not tight. It is different here. Not like you can jump in the car and have all amenities one mile down the road. You have to plan your purchases for those days when you travel to the market,” I respond like I am giving a teenager a lesson on life planning.

“Geez, how far is your house? I feel like I am going to crash on these loose rocks under my feet,” he announces like he is annoyed.

“I live close to 4 kilometers from town.” I speed up my pace.

“What the hell, kilometers, really Livi? How many miles is that and is it really all up hill. The tequila is hitting me hard and I think I am sweating it out my pores,” he pants out the words with that New Jersey Italian accent.

“Just about 2.5 miles and yes all up hill. You really need to be careful with the alcohol here. Much stronger and easier to get dehydrated,” I spoke.

“I am already dehydrated,” he slurs out.

 

We walk for another 17 minutes not speaking a word to each other. I think Ryan is really concentrating on not passing out. Ryan is such a strong man. He is a little over six feet tall, but he has always had amazing muscle tone from playing soccer and ice hockey. But hearing him winded and whining about the terrain is making me laugh.

 

We walk up to the front door of the house and I am fiddling with keys to open the door. Ryan breaks out in a drunken laugh then he offers what is so funny to him, “Livi honey, it is pitch black here and back home in
Jersey you’d be freaking out to get out of your Lexus truck in the driveway without the driveway lights on and you do not even have a light on inside this place, so unlike you.”

“Your eyes get adjusted to the darkness, but tonight there is no moon to light the way and I was not excepting company,” I look at him as I push open the door and hit the light for him.

 

He walks in and the look on his face is a little taken back. He walks over to the refrigerator and opens it. He grabs a beer and guzzles it. Then he is digging around for more to drink. “Do you have water?” he asks. “I am parched and I have had too much alcohol.” I laugh at him knowing his threshold and point to the lettuce crisper in the refrigerator.

He pulls out water and drinks that next. “Please show me around” he asks me.

“Really simple, Kitchen, dining, office and living room,” as I motion with my hand, “bedroom and bath over there
.”

“This really works,” he says with a wink and continues to speak, “That coffee
table is gorgeous.”

I laugh and it makes me weak to know that Ryan and I still have the same eye for beauty. “Señor Marquis made it for me and I am a little protective of it, so no feet or bottles on that table,” I smile to him.

“No way, he made it? That silly man with the American jokes? He is a true talent. Can he make kitchen tables?” Ryan asks as he sits on the couch and runs his hand over the wood grain. My brain starts working to wonder why Ryan wants a kitchen table. I wonder if he is moving or something. I walk over to the closet grabbing a blanket and pillow for Ryan. I go to give him the blanket when I see him trying to get his dog to cuddle with him on the couch. He is drunk and being all mushy.

“Good night,” I say while laying the blanket and pillow down on the arm of the couch, “I have to head to bed, school here starts super early”.

“How early?” he questions with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Seven in the morning and you may be up too since the sun shines right through this house in the morning,” I say while walking away into my room. I close my bedroom door and get ready for bed.

I head to the bathroom to wash up and hear Ryan grunting. I guess the tequila has decided to turn on him and aggravate his stomach. I quickly finish up in the bathroom and head back to my room. I close the door and climb into bed. I am having a hard time sleeping trying to figure out why he is here and I know this is going to be hard for me. I finally doze off to be awoken by the sound of Ryan being sick in the bathroom. I know I should ignore him, but I can’t. He is a lot like me when getting sick to his stomach, the nausea and dry heaving is unbearable. I jump out of bed and grab a hand towel from the closet. I run to the kitchen sink and wet it with ice cold water. Turn around walking fast to the bathroom and I open the bathroom door. Ryan is sitting on the floor with his arms draped over the tub with his cheek resting on the ledge of the tub. His back is to me and he is shirtless. I am watching his labored breathing and all his back muscles contracting with each breath. My mind wanders off again remembering feeling those muscles under my hands while we were intimate. I want to touch him and feel his back muscles under my hands again. I walk toward him and I place my hand on his sweaty back and startle him. I guess he fell asleep. I placed the cold wet towel around his neck and he takes the end and wipes his face with it.

He whispers, “Thank you, Livi,” pauses and proceeds to tell me, “I will be fine, just going to take a cold shower to break my heat from the alcohol. You go off to sleep.” I am still crouching with my hand rubbing his back. He lets out a little moan as if he finds this comforting. I slowly stand to bring my hand away and step back to grab a towel off the bar and place it close to him for his shower.

 

I leave the bathroom and leave the door slightly ajar. I walk into my room, climb back into bed. I notice that I have his very sexy comforting smell on my hand from rubbing his back. I smile as I grip my pillow trying to get comfortable as I listen to the shower water run. The relaxing sound of the splashing water must have put me to sleep.

 

I am awoken again by an arm over my hip and Ryan’s gentle breathing while he is asleep. He climbed into bed with me after his shower and decided he wanted to cuddle against me. I do not move. I just lie there and I too feel secure with his arm around me. I smile and soon drift back to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

 

My alarm goes off and I quickly hit it off trying not to wake Ryan. I do not want to move, but I have to get to school. I gently slip out of his arm and I stand up. I turn to look at him and see this very sexy man who came to bed with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His giant muscular thighs are hardly being covered with my towel which the towel seems so small at this moment. I pull my eyes away to stop staring at this gorgeous man that I had loved since college. I walk to the glass sliders and pull the room darkening curtain across so Ryan will not have the rising sun in his eyes and maybe sleep in, too. I turn on the ceiling fan so he has a cool breeze to keep him from getting too warm. I bustle around to leave for work on time.

 

I head out on to the road and notice I only have one dog with me. What traitors those animals are staying with
Ryan instead of the person who feeds them. I pick up my pace fully knowing I am going to be late, but thinking has overcome me again. Maybe being late is a good thing, and then I do not have to answer any of Parker’s questions about Ryan’s visit or about what happened yesterday. I am running up the stairs to the school and turn right around the corner to my classroom. There is Parker as always with a cup of coffee for me. He hands to the cup to me with a gentle apologetic smile then he whispers to me as the students are running to their classroom, “We’ll talk later.” He turns away from me going into his room.

 

Ryan
- I wake up pretty late and realize the warmth next to me is my dog and not Livi. I get up noticing that I am in her bed, the bed she stole from the house when she split. Well, it is her bed that she has had since second grade, but I keep shaking my head. Of all the things for her to take and ship is her king sized childhood bed. She really is pathetic and I remember all those times trying to get a real bed. She would fight me so hard. She would tell me that she has tried other beds and needs her platform bed. I finally step foot on the hardwood floors and realize I am naked. Oh crap, I came to bed in here after my drunken shower with a towel on; it is all coming back to me now. I walk toward the light and open the curtain. Wow, what a bright light, I think to myself. I head into the kitchen going through every cabinet and refrigerator looking for anything. I found the coffee in the refrigerator and take it out. I am looking everywhere for the coffee pot, I come up with nothing. I open another cabinet and see a French Press. Oh my god, I am going to die and I need to find the closest Dunkin Donuts. I put the coffee back in the refrigerator and grab a beer to apply alcohol to my hang over. I fiddle to open it and take a gulp. Taking in the kitchen supplies, I am noticing that there is no food, just fruit and vegetables, not even bread. I turn around and see by couch another slider. I open the door and walk outside. What a magnificent view of the sea from this hillside and how breathtaking it is just looking at it. I see below me the gravel rocky road that heads back to the town. I look back at the clock in the kitchen and make out that it is almost lunch time. I know what I will do; I will shower and head down to the Cantina for some food. Hopefully it is open. I get ready and lock up the house. The dogs are not staying inside the house; I guess she never leaves them behind. Well, I guess since they were at the Cantina last night then they would be welcome there again.

 

I head down the hill and by the time I reach the Cantina, I am parched. I slide up to the bar and notice that bar is made from the same wood as Livi’s coffee table. Then I get an idea in my head that I have to remember to do today.

 

Rosalie comes over to the bar and chuckles at me. I completely know why, for my drunken-self last night. Best I can do to not seem like an ass is to apologize. “Hello Rosalie, sorry I was such an ass last night. I am not the tequila drinking kind,” I say with a smile.

“No problem, so what can I get you?” she asks.

“Tequila,” I say, “no no, just joking. Anything that will cure my hangover and satisfy my stomach.”

She smirks at me and responds with, “So you are hungry and I will make you, as you Americans call it, Bloody Maria.”

I look up at her strangely and I have to ask, “Isn’t that with Tequila?”

“Yes, you need to add a little more of what got you that headache and the vitamins in the juice,” she looks at me like I should know better. “So for your food, how about a salad,” she asks.

“Is this entire town vegetarian? Livi has nothing but fruit and vegetables in her house. I need meat!” I respond with a sense of dramatic urgency.

Rosalie looks at me then explains, “Olivia eats most of her meals here at the Cantina and her students bring her fruit, vegetable and milk, sometimes cheese. She pays them for it so she doesn’t have to go to the market so much. It is a very long drive alone.”

“Oh, I had no clue and how far can it really be,” I ask.

“Tomorrow, I am going to the market for staples for the Cantina. If you get up early enough, you can join me. I can use the muscle to load the truck. While you are there, you can make some purchases of your own if you like,” she smiles back at me waiting for an answer.

“Sounds good to me. What is early?” I ask.

She looks at me like I am a child, “About six, do you think you can refrain from getting drunk tonight and how about a burger?”

I nod and smile, “I think I can make that and yes please, I am starved.” Rosalie is a really nice outgoing lady, not sure if she is from this town or came from somewhere else. She has to be about sixty years old and seem very mother hen like. I like her and she seems protective of Livi, I guess she is a good friend to Livi.

 

Rosalie brings me my burger and I nod with each bite. “That was amazing, it was like a meat mixture, like meatloaf from back home,” I say to her.

“It is a pork, chicken, beef and beans mixture. But what makes it smoky is the coffee wood in the grill. Olivia loves it when I grill her fish over it,” confidently assured of her cooking techniques.

“Speaking of lunch, does Livi come here for lunch?” I ask looking over toward the school.

“No, Olivia eats whatever she brought with her and she eats in the classroom along with her children,” Rosalie responds, “Please, if I may be nosy, you are not planning on taking her back with you. I overheard you ranting yesterday about the surfer boy which I gather you are speaking about Parker. I noticed he made you all hot heated jealous; you eyed him up the entire time until Olivia came to sit with you. She belongs here and her children, students need her.”

Taken back from her brute honesty, “I will do whatever Livi wants, but I am not going down without a fight. She is mine and has always been mine. I am not sure how much she divulged to you about home situation,” I speak with caring eyes.

“Your daughter is quite a chatter mouth, so I know it all, both sides. Have you asked Olivia if she wants you here? You did come without warning,” she responds looking me straight in the eye and continues. “If you take her back, then you are taking her from here. Are you willing to stay?”

I never thought past getting down here to Costa Rica. Rosalie is right and what does she know about the connection between Livi and Surfer boy? What is my game plan? I can work remotely and this village is breathtaking. We do need to start over somewhere new, away from the bad memories. I muster up to ask a question, “So what is going on with Livi and Surf boy anyway?” That came out sounding so jealous, but I am.

“Oh honey, they are co-workers and friends. If you need more, best to ask
Olivia. I do not think she would cross the line in such a small school, she has morals. If Parker does have a crush on her, that is only natural and who wouldn’t be crushing on her. I think you might have to fight off Señor Marquis, he crushes over her too,” she replies with a laugh.

“Speaking of Mr. Marquis, where can I find him? I would like to ask him to make a present for Livi and I will pay him for his artistic craftsmanship. He is amazingly skilled,” I smile.

“Here in about ten minutes and he does not know much English, so I might have to help you with your request. I warn you though, he will have to string you up by your genitals if you hurt her again,” She glares at me trying to hide her smile. I am not going to even try to explain my side since everyone here is on the cheering squad for Livi. I patiently wait until I hear a voice off to my side. Mr. Marquis is saying something is Spanish which sounded like man is still here. I laugh and Rosalie looks over at me with questioning eyes.

“I know a little bit of Spanish,” I say gesturing with my thumb and index finger pinched. She lets out a loud laugh. Why do I feel like these two people are going to be my newest extended family members? I feel so at home with them both. Rosalie speaks in Spanish to Señor Marquis and the constant motioning to me with her hand.

Rosalie then speaks to me, “Señor Marquis would like 100,292.57 in Colón for the table,” with a concerned look in her eyes.

I laugh really loud with sticker shock, “Over one hundred thousand dollars?”

Rosalie starts laughing and almost choking trying to contain herself, “No silly, that is in Costa Rican Colóns so about two hundred dollars American.” I start to laugh and realize that I need to download a currency application on my Android smart phone.

I speak with all seriousness, “Tell Señor Marquis if he finishes within two weeks that I will make it five hundred American dollars.” Rosalie’s smile just blacked out the sun and she now knows that I really do love Señor Marquis’s craftsman artistic ability and maybe I won her over for my love of Livi.

 

             
I am getting really antsy waiting for Livi to either appear outside with her class. I have not seen her since my little drunken sickness session in her bathroom. Well that is a lie, I saw her as I snuggled up to her in her bed last night. I let out a chuckle as I think to myself what Livi must have thought when she woke up. She is this calm, reserved and strong person who is known to get easily embarrassed. She used to be a little wild when she played in her college band with her best friend Chris. But, I know how to turn on her desires that jumpstart her wild sexy side.

 

I remember the day I finally spoke to her on campus. She was in my Juvenile Delinquency and Crime class as well as being in my lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays. She was a freshman and an overzealous student, teacher’s pet type. I remember when I saw her in lunch and asked a few of the guys if they knew anything about her. Scott Stevens chuckled, “Man, stay away from that one, she is pretty dyke.” Instantly, I had to hate her since I was still trying to please the first line players and she had other preferences as I was rumored to believe. She was a commuter student and I was a sophomore living in the team apartments, but I still had a car on campus. I was driving up Mountain Ave from Brother Bruno’s Pizza heading back to my apartment. I saw a car with four way flashers on the side of the road and a girl digging through the hatch of a 1986 Camaro. Me, not being a man who leaves a damsel in distress, pulls over behind the car to see if they need a ride to a pay phone. I get out walking over to the car and see it is the girl from my class. She is red faced and crying while she is still digging through the hatch of the car.

“Did you break down,” I ask, “and do you need a ride?” She uses the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away the tears and nose run off before she looks up at me with those piercing crystal blue eyes.

She tries to breathe out words, “Car is fine, thank you.”

Now I
am confused and I have to ask, “What are you doing and why are you crying?”

As she pulls out one of those red foldable emergency shovels, “I hit a cat,” she speaks softly trying not to fight back the tears.

I laugh and try really hard to look serious, “I am sorry. Would you like help? I assume you are going to bury it since you have a shovel.” She turned then I noticed that she has blood all over her hand and the thigh area of her jeans.

“Sure, please, can you help me dig a hole,” she speaks meekly, “this way over here?” I follow her to a bundle wrapped in a sweat shirt and start to dig a hole. Once I
feel that hole is deep enough, I nod to her to put the bundle in the ground. She gingerly places the cat in its grave and she again is trying to choke back small sobs. I back fill the hole and she just stands there watching. I have never seen some one in so much pain for hitting a darn cat. We walk back to the cars. I place the shovel in her car and close the hatch.

She looks up at me and speaks softly, “I am going to head back home and cleaned up. Thank you for helping me. I just shut down after what I had to do.”

I look at her with sympathy, “Well, at least it happened quickly.”

She started crying again, “No, he was alive, but mangled. I knelt beside him and picked him up. I snapped his neck to end the pain and misery.”

Stunned at what I just heard, “You did what?” She did not say another word and just gave me a nod as she got back in to her car. She drove off. As I drove up to my apartment, I found myself complete mystified by her and her caring act to help an animal is distress that she caused. Most girls would have run away and said oops to what they did, but she is an odd one who knew what she had to do. She wore the blood on her clothing and herself, she was not even freaked out. Gosh, she was stronger than me. I made it my duty to get to know her better from that day on.

BOOK: Lost Her (Lost #1)
5.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Caveat Emptor by Ken Perenyi
Fun House by Appel, Benjamin
5-Minute Mindfulness by David B. Dillard-Wright PhD
Midsummer Murder by Shelley Freydont
Scandal in Seattle by Nicole Williams
A Simple Change by Judith Miller
Play Dead by John Levitt