Page 56 of The Austen Escape
“I suspect anything over 1 psi is too aggressive. I’m playing with 10 to 15 kPa right now.”
“You cannot judge that.”
“Who says?”
“I do.” He laid his rod on the ground next to the bench. His linen shirt billowed around the waist. He dropped next to me and I scooted a couple inches to give him room. “No, really, can you?”
“I’m not sure. I like to think I can.” I glanced at him. He was so close I could see the lightest smattering of freckles across his cheek. “That small room off the lab can be pressurized, so the guys play around with it all the time. Sometimes they let me in on the fun. So... maybe my guess isn’t without some foundation. But no, I can’t really tell.”
“Nice. But I’m not the jealous type.”
“What?” I almost choked on the gum.
“You know all the lab guys adore you. You’re the only one they bring their hard copies to, and they spend entire lunch breaks trying to figure out how to make your jewelry rise off your neck or create a decibel only you’ll hear or something else that’ll drive you crazy. They even freeze-dried some cookie you love.”
“That was disgusting.”
“I know. I was their guinea pig.”
“I am so sorry. They’re just goofy.”
Nathan leaned back against the bench, arm crashing into mine, and laughed. “They’re a bunch of brilliant physicists who respect you, trust you, and slightly adore you. Don’t discount the power of the friendships you’ve built... But enough of WATT. Do I get a piece of my own gum?”
I handed him the pack and he joined me. No more words, just several very well-pressurized bubbles.
After several minutes and as many bubbles, he slid me a glance. Sunbeams caught his eyelashes and the stubble across his chin. It was darker in that little cleft in the center. His whole facebecame a contrast of light and dark while laughing eyes locked on mine. I also noticed the way the heat from his arm in the thinnest of linen shirts pressed into mine... I tucked the moment away.
“Why do you look so happy?”
In reply he drew his lips into a straight line and his face turned red. It reminded me of the couple times we bumped into each other climbing off the treadmills in the gym, or of myself, multiple times this morning.
“I’m not... Well, I am, but... I feel like I can see you better here. I’m enjoying this.”
I felt something unfurl within me. I drew it tight again. “We should find Isabel.”
“Not yet.” He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun as I’d seen him do so often in Austin.
I did the same. The silence lay light until broken by a muffled sound, a clopping sound. Across the stream Tennyson came into view pulling a carriage. A bonnet... Grant...
“Hey.” It felt as if cold water had been thrown at me. I shot off the bench and pointed. “It’s Isabel. They’re probably headed to the stables. We should go back.”
“Why?”
I bit my lip. I couldn’t articulate why—we just needed to leave. All my thoughts for the last twenty hours had been focused on this moment. Isabel seeing Nathan; Isabel seeing me with Nathan. Isabel waking up, running off into the sunset with him. Or Isabel facing us both and knowing I knew she’d lied and finally understanding that things couldn’t be the same again. Isabel finally learning that some lines friends never crossed.
Without answering I picked up my rod and headed toward the path.
Nathan caught up within a few feet, his own rod in hand. “I’m serious, Mary. Why the rush? We were having fun.”
I stopped and looked at him. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
Then tell me. Nathan caught the flash of recognition in my eyes. He offered that same half smile. “We’ve been here before, I know, but this time, trust me. Please, Mary. Tell me.” There was nothing professional about his look. It was intimate and compelling.
“You’re Tall Consultant Guy. That’s a nice thing.”
His mouth tightened. I dropped my eyes.
