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But her condominium’s most compelling feature was the set of French doors leading to a balcony. Even though it was dark, he could see distant lights from downtown skyscrapers. Every day when she woke up, her first view was of the city.
Nathan was the second owner of his house. Though he was still inside the 610 loop, his neighborhood counted as his version of suburbia. He’d opted for a commute since he could get more value for his dollar, and he’d gambled that it would be a good long-term investment.
In contrast to her view of concrete and activity, he had landscaping designed by the local gardening club, complete with a pond. The back yard was lush with oleander bushes, bougainvillea and other tropical plants, including bamboo.
Unfortunately, working in the yard didn’t relax him as he’d hoped. Instead, it seemed to demand constant attention. The bamboo was now as tall as the house and threatened to engulf it. The bougainvillea had spikes so nasty they gave him pause. Even the koi that had been so alluring during the sale were nothing more than an invitation to passing birds.
The sight of his city in the near distance filled him with its seductive energy. Now that he saw the view from the outside looking in, he understood why his brother Connor had opted to live downtown. “Nice view,” he said.
“I waited for this particular floor plan and sightline of downtown to become available,” she said. “It meant I spent a year longer in an apartment than I wanted, but I think it was worth it.”
A number of framed photographs hung on the wall next to the doors. They all had a similar feel, as if they were taken by the same person. The play of light and form drew his attention? “Mind if I look?”
She shrugged. “Go ahead.”
He crossed the hardwood floors to study them closer.
One picture he recognized as a sunrise over Pleasure Pier on Galveston Island. Another was of the lighthouse on the Bolivar Peninsula. A third was of a flock of soaring pelicans. The largest and most stunning was of a large, bright full moon rising over the Gulf of Mexico.
Nathan looked back at her.
She was standing there, silently studying him.
“Who’s the photographer?” he asked.
“Me. They’re mine.”
“Yours?” He glanced back at them. “You’ve got some talent.”
“Thanks. I think you’re being generous. I only display them because I like the sights.”
“Galveston and Bolivar in particular?”
“Not necessarily.” She shook her head. “To me it’s more about the ocean. Dad had a decent job, but with Mom’s health issues and the fact she stayed home with us…” She trailed off then visibly refocused. “We didn’t have a lot of extra money, so my dad would take us to the beach for vacations. I loved watching the boats in the ship channel. I always begged him to let us ride the Bolivar ferry, and he invariably agreed since you can walk on for free. There’s a restaurant in Crystal Beach where the barges pass by—really close—and I always imagined that if I reached out I could touch them.”
And maybe her love of that had also influenced her career path?
“Galveston isn’t far away. Even with my schedule, I can get there several times a year for short trips,” she went on. “I’ve been wanting to get to Corpus Christi, though, and maybe South Padre Island.”
“You can do both when we go to the ranch.”
“We haven’t talked about that yet.” She unzipped her jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Whiskey?”
“Whiskey,” he said. “Thanks. On the rocks, if you have ice.”
“Make yourself comfortable.”
He followed her toward the kitchen but paused near the mantel to look at her snapshots. They appeared to be mostly family photos. One was of Kelsey and a smiling woman, arms over each other’s shoulders. Both were wearing huge smiles. Kelsey had much shorter hair, only to her shoulders, and her friend had icy lilac-colored tresses. The metal frame had the word bestie, in block letters.
She returned with a small glass for him and white wine for herself.
“Do you want to show me around?” he asked.
The ice cubes clinked in the glass as she handed it to him. “Not really,” she answered.
He regarded her.
“It’ll ruin your image of me as neat and organized.”
And encroach on her personal space. “All the better.”
“Are you serious?” She squirmed a little, and he liked that.
“I’d like to see your place, yes.” He took a sip of the liquor. It wasn’t as fine as the stuff Connor stashed at the Running Wind, but it was more than serviceable. “I’ve been clear that I want to know all about you. Especially the things you don’t want me to know.”
