Lost & Found Read Online Free

that.”
    His jaw tightened. “There’s nothing to get over.”
    Her eyes went wide. “What? How can you say that?”
    “I’m okay, Krissa.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t even want to think about it. Thinking about Lauren was pointless, made him remember all the grief, betrayal, uncertainty and anger. Things he’d never expressed to another living soul. Because no one else knew the truth about Lauren’s death. It was much better to just keep those emotions out of his life. He’d done fine without them the last two years.
    Tears glimmered on her face. Ah, shit. “Don’t cry, Kris, really, I’m okay.”
    “But I’m not.”

Lost and Found

Chapter Three
    Oh, why had she said that? The words had emerged shaky and pathetic from her mouth. She wanted to talk about it, wished it was Derek sitting there so they could get this out in the open and deal with it. She could talk to Nate about it. But what if Derek didn’t want Nate to know?
    It wasn’t a failure on Derek’s part, but he’d see it that way. It shouldn’t be humiliating, but she knew Derek felt it was.
    They should have been prepared for the news Dr. Edgar had given them. Lord knows, they’d had enough time to think about it, worry about it. Hearing it should not have been such a shock.
    But having your worst fears confirmed was always a shock.
    “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Derek. I wish I knew where he was.”
    “I’m sure he’s fine.”
    “Yeah.” She’d been carrying such a load of guilt around for so long. Their problems were all her fault. Derek made that pretty clear to her every damn day. Maybe that’s why this was so difficult for him. Maybe he’d never really believed the problem could be his, not hers. Maybe he was never coming back.
    She put her hands over her face.
    “Hey, hey.” The couch dipped beneath her as Nate moved toward her, then his arm went around her shoulders and he pulled her into him. His arms were stiff and awkward, as if he hadn’t done such a thing for a long time.
    She pressed her face to his chest, inhaling the scent of his cotton T-shirt and warm musky male. His body relaxed a little, and his arms around her felt strong and comforting. One hand cupped the back of her head, then stroked down over her hair. The tenderness of the gesture caused more tears to flood her eyes. She sniffled. “I’m sorry.”
    “I don’t know what it is, but if Nate’s done anything to hurt you, I swear I’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Nate’s fierce defense of her made something inside her expand and burst. She tried to restrain the sobs, but ended up blubbering in Nate’s arms.
    He held her, pressed her head to his chest and let her cry her heart out. All the tension, the worry, the fear built up in her over the last few months coalesced into a shirt-soaking deluge of tears.
    “He hasn’t done anything,” she sobbed.
    “Okay.”
    His hand stroked her hair, slowly, mesmerizingly, soothing her ragged nerves until her sobbing eased, leaving her quivering and hiccupping for breath.
    “Oh, God,” she mumbled into his chest. “I am so sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize,” he murmured. “It’s okay, bunny.”
    The old nickname, coming from all her job hopping, touched something deep inside her, deep and warm. He continued to stroke her hair and rub his hand up and down her back. She became aware that the thin cotton of her tank top was a flimsy barrier between her skin and Nate’s warm hand. But it felt so good, so comforting.
    “I’ll wait up with you for him,” he murmured, and he pressed his face against the top of her head.
    “Thank you.”
    They stayed like that, and she took solace in his embrace. They talked about inconsequential things—the house, the weather, mutual friends—while the flickering fire cast a spell and emotional exhaustion took its toll. Krissa fell asleep in Nate’s arms.
     
    A crashing woke her up.
    Krissa lifted her