Restoration & Forgiveness (Renovate Book 2) (22 page)

I don't want to move, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, but I know that although last night was amazing, we have to face the day, whatever it may bring.

Keegan stirs, and he runs his strong hands along my back. The contact with my skin is warming. I let out a peaceful sigh, and he laughs at my reaction to his morning wake-up call.

"How do you feel?" he asks.

"Satisfied." I giggle into his warm chest.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Although my muscles are a little sore, from you know," I add.

"If we had time, I could give you a rubdown, but I'm sure that would just turn into more sore muscles for you."

"True. Rain check?"

"Sunny day check," he replies.

We untangle ourselves when we absolutely have to, as Keegan still needs to drop me at home so I can change for work. I agree to meet him after work. He insists that I pack some extra things to keep at his place; I don't argue, because I get a little excited thinking of mixing our things together. I'm not sure when I'll change my address, but this is the right thing for the two of us.

After last night's events, I feel closer to him, as if we are truly in this together. He's lost those rose-colored glasses and finally sees Gretchen's claws, the evidence being my arm. The redness had disappeared and now it just looks like I had a fight with a cat. I choose to wear long sleeves until they disappear. I know I'll have to tell Reese what happened, if she doesn't know already, but keeping them hidden means no probing.

I'm running late, and the apartment is empty, so I hurry to make it to work on time. The morning goes at a snail's pace. I keep going over all the scenarios of what could happen with the James firm. It's their company, and has the family name stamped all over it. Will they be able to start fresh, or at all? I consider calling Liam and asking him some questions, and even have his name and number pulled up before I change my mind. I don't think that reaching out to him will be the best idea. Adding another ex to the mix might make the situation more complex. I want less of that; actually I'd like to do away with it all together.

It's a beautiful day. Reese is shooting in Central Park and sends me a text to meet her there for lunch. I agree, since staring at the four walls in my office is starting to get to me.

Just as I'm getting ready to meet Reese, I'm handed a bouquet of roses in red, yellow, pink, and white. It's an exquisite arrangement. When I open the card, there is a lovely note from Keegan that says
to the stars.
No other words are needed, and this thoughtful gesture reminds me that he's thinking about me. I consider faking an illness and leaving work early so I can thank him properly, but I think my body needs a few more hours to recuperate from last night.

I meet Reese at Strawberry Fields; it's her favorite spot in the park. She has always had a fascination with the Beatles, specifically John Lennon. When we were in college she dated a guy in a Beatles tribute band named A Ticket To Yesterday. She dragged us to every one of their shows, then she tried to fix me up with the fifth member, but that never came to fruition. He ended up offending Reese, calling her a Yoko Ono wannabe. She didn't take that too well, especially when her boyfriend broke up with her over it. I had to stage an intervention before she did something she'd regret, like steal all their instruments or vandalize all his precious memorabilia. I did feel bad. She was living her fantasy of snagging one of the Fab Four.

When I find her she's on the phone arguing with someone, and I'm curious as to who has her so worked up. I approach her cautiously, and she holds up her finger to me. I end up sending Keegan a text that simply states
To The Stars
as a response to his flowers.

Reese finishes her call and approaches me. She looks frustrated, and I cross my fingers that it has nothing to do with me.

"People are such assholes," she delivers angrily.

"Who is an asshole?"

"These protesters. They are rallying in the spot I'm supposed to photograph."

I'm relieved it's not about me, and now that she's on this rant, I'm going to avoid any more stress and leave out my run-in from last night. She will flip when she finds out.

"What are they protesting?"

"You're going to laugh; they're protesting skyscrapers, and how they are going to cast a shadow in the park. I mean, really? They have these giant umbrellas and are waving them around." She huffs.

"I'm not laughing, it's probably important to them. No one wants a cloudy park. How is anything supposed to grow and flourish?"

She looks at me with hard eyes. "You know, Aimee, you're on my list right now. If you want to join them, they're down the path a ways."

I don't want to fight with her, but she's getting worked up over something she can't control. I'm thinking from the way she just snapped at me that she's got low blood sugar.

"Hey, let's get lunch," I say sympathetically.

"Don't patronize me, Aimee. We need to have a talk, and you know this is my tranquil place."

I look at her, tilting my head in challenge. We've had fights, tons. We are like true sisters bickering and all. One time in college she spent a week at her brother's because she was mad that I wouldn't let her borrow my favorite earrings. What I learned early on about Reese is she loses everything, her keys, her wallet, it's like anything she touches disappears. It's not like we don't ever share anything, but those were the earrings my father bought me for my high school graduation.

"Well, I'm hungry and we never had any problems eating and talking," I say.

"You have a point, let's go." She bends down, blowing a kiss to the Imagine mosaic.

I don't say anything, just wait. It's her thing and I would never tease her about it.

We head to a little deli and both order sandwiches. Reese devours hers, and then goes back for cookies. When I'm done eating, she crosses her arms over her chest, and taps her foot.

"What?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me what happened last night, and why I have to hear from Kaleb, who heard it from Keegan, that the wench attacked you."

And, there it is. This has to be what's bothering her; she was just trying to start a fight earlier. I was the target of her frustration, so there you go.

"It was nothing," I say.

She reaches over and pulls the sleeve of my shirt up. The look on her face is a mix of shock and rage.

"It looks like you were in a fight with a bear, Aimee. Those scratches are really bad. Did you go to the hospital?"

I roll my eyes at her. The scratches are hardly noticeable. She's being dramatic.

"Look, she grabbed my arm when we were arguing. I was trying to walk away."

She leans back. "Didn't get very far?"

"Keegan showed up and put an end to the confrontation," I admit.

She smiles. "I heard he put her in her place, and basically told her to hit the road."

"It wasn't pretty, but hopefully this speeds things up. She's upset that we are engaged, she expected Keegan to get her approval or something. She just spouted the usual threats."

Reese looks at me with worry. "Aimee, don't push this under the rug. First she tries to get you fired, and now she assaults you in a lobby full of people. She's getting desperate, and I would feel much better if she just hopped on her broomstick and flew away."

Me too, but that's not going to happen.

"Look, Keegan is refusing to work with her. He isn't even going to the office anymore. He's doing all his work from home."

She relaxes a little, and places her hand over mine in comfort.

"I'm sorry, I know this is hard for you, and I don't want to fight. I just want you to be happy, okay?"

I nod, and give her a light smile.

"I'm telling you, if she ever touches you again, I'm going to kick her in her lady parts." Reese is always so modest, but without her I may have gone crazy a long time ago.

After lunch we say our goodbyes, and she apologizes for going all pregnancy hormones on me. I laugh it off, because there is no reason to be sorry.

The rest of the day goes by slowly, and through my boredom I begin to worry. How is Keegan dealing with all this, the possibility of losing so much that he's worked for? He's made it clear what's important, but what if after it all he's not happy? I don't want to be the cause of his misfortune. All I've wanted was for him to be happy.

When I make it to his penthouse, my feet are killing me from the shoes I've been wearing, so I slip them off immediately and place the rest of my things down.

There is a silence, and I'm not sure what I expected; maybe for him to greet me at the door. I catch sight of the city view. Making my way to the windows, I touch the reflection in the glass. The sun is moving behind the skyscrapers and giving off the most vivid picture. It's mesmerizing and calming, especially after what the last day has been like.

I head to Keegan's dimly lit office, where I spot him at his drafting table. He is wearing a plain blue t-shirt and sweats. I can see his back muscles through his shirt as he works on a design. I quietly approach him and wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stops working, placing his arm over mine but not yet moving to face me. His stiff body has relaxed into mine, and I'm praying it had nothing to do with bad news.

We stay like that for a few minutes, and I peek at what he has been putting on paper.

"What are you up to?" I ask.

He looks at me and smiles, kissing me lightly on my lips. His eyes are sad, and I'm afraid to ask, so I squeeze him a little tighter.

"Just playing around," he answers.

He's designing a room. From what I can gather it has floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls. He's marked off several spots in the room for furniture.

"Is this for us?"

"Naw, I was just bored."

It doesn't look like nothing, I stare at the picture; it could be a nursery. When I look closer, I read the word crib.

"Is this a baby's room, Keegan?" I let go of him trying to snatch the drawing before he can stop me.

He has quicker reflexes, and crumples it up, throwing it in the trash. Why would he be acting like this?

"It's nothing, Aimee, and never will be, so just let it go," he says.

I stare at him, holding back my emotions. All the worry I had before is right back, and his actions tell me maybe I should be worried. He's not acting normally; this isn't the same man I was with last night. He is an entirely different person.

"I'll drop it when you tell me what's got you acting this way. Did something happen today?"

He looks at me, taking in the emotion written on my face, and he walks away without a word. What is happening right now?

I take a deep breath and grab his drawing out of the trash and open it. You would think it was just an ordinary room, but I know better because I know how he thinks. This is the vision he has for our baby's room, the one we haven't even conceived yet. He's sad about it, and I don't know why. This truthfully scares me. I take his work, smoothing it out as much as possible, and place it back on his desk. Something this thoughtful shouldn't be discarded, no matter what he thinks.

I walk out of the room, looking for him. His leaving me in the middle of a conversation has me rattled. I need to know what he's thinking. I check in the bedroom; the door to the adjacent bathroom is closed. I hear the water running. He's obviously avoiding me, and I debate just leaving. He didn't ask me to, but I doubt me being here is what he wants right now. Then I convince myself to stay. I promised him no running, and total honesty. It works both ways, and I'm not going to let him do this to me.

I sit on his neatly made bed and stare at myself in the mirror. I tap my feet lightly on the floor as I listen to the spraying water. Once his excessively long shower is over, he moves around in the bathroom. I stare at the door, willing it to open. When it finally does, Keegan steps out with a towel wrapped around his waist, and as the steam escapes behind him he stops to look at me. I'm not going to make it easy on him; I know he would do the same. He proved that when he followed me to Indiana.

He doesn't say anything, and I can't quite read him. I've always been able to follow his moods, but this one could be a cross between tortured and regretful.

"Do you feel better?" I ask.

He doesn't answer my question, just moves to his dresser and pulls out clothes. He dresses slowly with his back to me.

He turns around and looks at me again. He goes to say something, then stops himself.

"I know what that room was, and I don't know why you are acting like this, but you need to tell me, especially after last night," I say bravely.

"Aimee, I asked you to drop it."

I'm not going to let him do this. He can't just push it aside and think I'm going to forget about it.

"And I asked you a question too. You see, I received these beautiful flowers today, with the most romantic words. By the way you're acting I'm thinking you must have made a mistake," I shoot back.

There's a lot more where that came from, Keegan James
.

"Can you stop being overdramatic, please?"

"I'm not being overdramatic. Just tell me what changed from the time you sent those flowers and now."

What he does next infuriates me, because he just walks away.

"Stop walking away from me when I'm talking to you, Keegan," I yell after him.

He doesn't answer, just keeps on walking; now I'm thoroughly pissed. He's ignoring me. After everything, he's brushing me off.

When I reach his office, he throws a paperweight against the wall, and I flinch. I've never seen him lose his temper like this, and reconsider pushing him any further, because I have no idea what he's going to do next. I know he would never hurt me, but right now he's scaring me.

I slowly approach him at his desk. As I reach him he loudly grunts, pushing everything off the top. The contents scatter all over the floor, including the blueprint of the nursery. I can't hold back the tears at this point, and I don't really care. I'm not sure I want to know now what has caused him to react so angrily.