It Matters To Me (The Wandering Hearts Book 2) (21 page)

“I know,” he gasps, though from his expression it’s clear I’ve made him uncomfortable. “I mean, of course you were,” he forces a laugh.

“What was your question?” I ask, hoping to move on, now thoroughly embarrassed by my poorly timed joke.

“Jumanda is friends with a member of the tourist department for Gaborone City, and they were curious if I—if we would be interested in snapping some images for an upcoming campaign they’re launching.”

“Are you kidding?” I nearly squeal.

Aiden draws in a deep breath, and I could swear it looks as if even his eyes are smiling at me. “I mean, if you’re not interested, or need to be back in Chicago for something, I’m sure I could handle things.”

“Oh no,” I say. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“So, you don’t need to go home, I mean nobody is expecting you or anything?” he asks, watching me intensely.

My head tilts as I study him. “I suppose my mother.” I laugh. “How long are we talking?”

“Couple of weeks, maybe longer,” he answers.

There are tears. Why in the hell am I crying?

He reaches out, placing a hand on my arm to support me. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head, fighting for breath, embarrassed that I lost my composure in front of him. “Just happy.” I choked out at last. “I love this job.”

A hearty laugh bursts from Aiden’s mouth, and he delivers me a sideways hug, nearly whispering. “It shows in the pictures you take.”

I blink, looking up at him. He’s so close to me I can smell the soap on him from the shower he must have just taken. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, taking a step back into the safety of my room. He doesn’t follow, but he’s watching me.

“Don’t be,” he reassures me. “How about we grab some dinner?”

Relieved for the change in subject I eagerly agree. “Absolutely. Meet in the lobby in twenty?”

He lingers. He’s not smiling. His eyes are traveling up and down my body. I laugh awkwardly, feeling the scrutiny with which he’s looking at me.

“Twenty minutes?” I ask again.

He nods, and without another word, he walks away. I press the door closed and stumbling backward, I throw myself onto the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I
S THIS NORMAL?”
I
ASK
Aiden, watching as the officers scurry, blocking off traffic, creating a secure location to set up our equipment.

He coughs, choking on the crumbs of a pastry he just shoved into his mouth. He chews, swallows, and clears his throat. “Is what normal?”

“Is all of this normal in a photographer’s life?”

“I’m still not understanding the question.” He looks at me.

I glance around and motion to the scene unfolding in front of us. “This. All of it. Since I met you, I’ve flown on a private plane to Africa where I got to see an endangered black rhino, and now the city is bending over backward to help you take these pictures.”

He laughs. “Let’s see. The private plane is rare, usually I’m stuck carrying minimal equipment, and I tend to sleep in the cheapest place I can. Occasionally, I get treats like this trip, but if you’re thinking this life is always so glamorous—”

“I never said I thought it was glamorous,” I interject with a grin.

He glances around, grabbing a camera bag as an officer waves us forward. “As far as this five-star treatment, what you’re seeing here is someone trying to cover their ass for not appropriately planning.”

I shake my head in confusion. “How do you mean?”

He pauses, looking back at me. “This kind of shoot takes time, permits, planning. I didn’t apply for a single permit and was told whatever I need, just let them know. If I had to guess, there was a budget to bring in tourism and someone let the ball drop. They discovered how far you have to book a project like this and now they’re scrambling. They’re probably just happy they found some idiot to take the job on such short notice.”

“Wow,” I hiss.

“What?”

“You’re just so cynical.”

“Cynicism has nothing to do with my opinion. It’s experience.”

I shrug. “Then I’m glad someone didn’t do their job. This is amazing.”

I catch a smile creep in at the corners of his mouth. He swallows. “You’re unique, Kenzie Crawford. I’ll give you that.” Gladly, I take it as a compliment. I watch him as he sizes up the landmark in front of him. Small lines appear at the corners of his eyes, and I feel a tightness grip my throat.

When he snaps his fingers and waves to the oversized box of gear, I spring into action. I tell myself to focus on the task at hand. I’m here to do a job. I’m being paid to assist him, but I can’t stop looking at him. Watching him. Wondering about his story. There’s so much more to him than what I’ve found from a Google search. I can see it in his eyes. Pushing the curiosity down, smothering it, I focus on the task at hand.

I
GLANCE AT MY PHONE.
I’ve been waiting all day for a call from my lawyer—an update on the case against the Andersons. Just one more gift from my father. I can’t stop thinking that had I never looked up Dale and Janet—had my father never found out—perhaps he wouldn’t feel the need to punish them further. No matter how many times I look at the screen of my phone, the status of zero messages doesn’t change.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Kenzie says, causing me to glance at my watch. I smile. She’s exactly two minutes late, not what I would call an infraction requiring an apology. She looks at me with a prying gaze. In one connection, it feels like I’ve revealed a million secrets to her. “Are you okay?” she asks me.

“Huh?” I scoff, squirming uncomfortably. “Yeah, of course.”

Lifting her brows and offering a slow blink she shakes her head. “Sorry, you looked all ‘sad Keanu’ for a moment.”

I lean back, a smile climbing across my face, a laugh breaking free.

“You know,” she adds. “The meme.”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I know what you’re talking about, I’ve just never had someone call me ‘sad Keanu’ before.”

She shrugs innocently. “Oh, here!” She exclaims shoving a travel cup of coffee in front of me. “It’s all froufrou, just like you like it.”

I retrieve the coffee from her hand and advise her casually, “Just a heads up, calling your boss ‘froufrou sad Keanu’ probably isn’t the best way to set yourself up for a promotion.”

Without missing a beat, she replies, “That’s okay, I’m only planning to learn everything you have to teach and then steal your clients away, anyway.”

I laugh again. I’ve laughed more since I met Kenzie than I think I have in my entire life. I like it. “Good to know.”

She tilts her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. So, what beautiful treasure of Gaborone City do we get to shoot today?”

“Let’s see.” I tap my chin as if I’m running through the vast options in my mind, though the truth is we could probably wrap up most of the locations in a couple of days. “We’ve got some government buildings and statues.”

She grins. “I can hardly contain my excitement.”

“We also have at least a day’s worth of temple shots to get,” I add.

“Now that sounds fun, can we do that today?” she pleads, blinking at me wide-eyed.

“I mean you buttered me up with all that talk of me looking like an internet meme, so how can I say no?” I joke.

She pumps an arm enthusiastically. “Yes!”

“We should get some great shots. From what I’ve been told they’re getting ready for a Hindu festival,” I add.

She shoves me firmly in the arm. “Get out, you’re messing with me.”

I lift three fingers and stiffen my back. “Scout’s honor.”

She glares at me cautiously. “You were never a Boy Scout, were you?”

“What? I don’t seem the type?” I ask with my best clueless face.

“Not exactly.”

“No, I probably would have been kicked out of the Boy Scouts.”

“Oh nice,” she grins. “A bad boy, huh?”

“I had a phase,” I confirm.

She frowns, exaggeratedly.

“What?” I question.

“I like bad boys,” she wiggles her eyebrows at me. If it were anyone else, I would have sworn I was being flirted with, but Kenzie has made it clear she’s dealing with a tough breakup. I remind myself, this is simply her sense of humor coming through.

“How many coffees have you had?” I ask.

She shrieks gleefully, “I’m just having a little fun.”

Fun around Kenzie is contagious. I remember scattered comments of randomness from her. Each nugget a genuine and unique thought, unlike anything I’d ever heard from anyone I’d ever met. I can’t stop myself from trying to memorize her. I could never tell her as I’m sure she wouldn’t understand, I’m not even sure I do, but I feel like I need to come up with any possible way to extend my time with her. I’m not sure if I’m trying to figure her out or what. All I know is I like the way I feel when I’m with her. I tell myself, that can’t be a bad thing, can it?