Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Nima couldn’t think of a bright side to being stuck in a closet while a bunch of humans partied downstairs—until he caught sight of Mari. His nose twitched first. It had nothing to do with all the construction sawdust. Mari’s scent perfumed the bathroom before she even stepped over the threshold.
Sweet summer snow.
He gawked at her from the closet. Her glossy, dark-blonde hair trailed down her back in a low ponytail he longed to run his fingers through.
New piercings—the ones she’d always talked about getting—stacked her left ear in a neat row of shiny hoops.
While he’d noticed the earrings in Tseten’s pictures, seeing them in person made him smile, pleased she’d done what she’d always wanted.
Mari looked older, wiser. She wasn’t a kid anymore—neither of them was.
She’d only become sexier with age. He loved the way she filled out her sweater and the added thickness to her waistline.
His appreciative gaze lingered on the pronounced curve of her hips and rounded ass in her navy corduroy pants, thick and warm for the cold winter weather.
Mari stared intently at his tilework. His breath caught as realization dawned.
She’d come to look at his work. She could have visited many times with Tseten over the past months.
Instead, she’d arrived alone, assuming Nima wouldn’t be there.
Given their lack of communication over the years, he couldn’t blame her.
Yet her mere presence reignited the ember of hope Nima still clung to, that maybe they could reconcile and be friends again.
Guilt flared as he stayed hidden, watching her study the tile.
Mari strolled across the room, pausing occasionally as if something in the design caught her eye.
Her gaze lifted to trace the pattern up the wall.
A smile, the sweetest thing Nima had ever seen, graced her lips when she brushed her fingers over the lupine.
He’d been thinking of her when he created them.
And now she’d found them, and they pleased her.
His heart swelled as her response made him ridiculously happy.
She slid her phone out of her back pocket and raised it as if she were about to snap a picture.
Then she paused, pulling it closer to study the screen.
When her smile fell, so did Nima’s. He didn’t like the way she worried at her lip and cast glances around the room, as if she thought someone was watching her. He was watching her. Fuck!
Mari was likely here because she assumed she’d be alone. He didn’t want to ruin that for her . . . But maybe he should reveal himself?
As her complexion paled, it hit him. Had he accidentally texted her after all? A cold sweat broke out across his back, and his fur stood on end. He’d meant to say more, to tell her he wanted to talk with her. He had to fix this. Now.
He took a deep breath and prepared to exit his hiding place and offer her an explanation, but a noise caught his attention.
Someone was coming. Fuck! He couldn’t show himself now.
He’d have to explain it all to Mari later.
Jaw clenching in frustration, he made a silent promise that he would—no cold feet this time.
Instead of leaving the bathroom and greeting the incoming person, Mari dashed across the room to the light switch, then paused and eyed the linen closet. Crap! This wasn’t good.
Nima held his breath as she hurried toward the closet. Toward him. She grabbed the doorknob and tugged it open. Please don’t scream.
Mari didn’t let out a sound, but her lovely, golden-brown eyes widened when her gaze collided with his chest. She looked up and up until her eyes met his.
Nima swallowed hard. What could he say? He mouthed, “I’m sorry.
” While it seemed wholly insufficient, he did it anyway, then shrugged toward the voices.
Mari blinked in response, and Nima inwardly winced. Wholly insufficient!
Then she squeezed into the closet in front of him and closed the door.
Oh.
Nima hadn’t expected that. Not that the situation had allowed much time to think things through.
Mari’s heat and sugary vanilla-caramel scent surrounded him like a security blanket, triggering pleasant memories of their past. Their first kiss behind her parents’ Christmas tree—awkward but achingly sweet.
Skinny dipping at Moose Lake. Making love under the stars.
Years of smiles, laughter, joy. They’d been so happy . . . until that night in Nevada.
Was the universe punishing him now? Nima hadn’t been brave enough to reach out to Mari.
Now he was trapped in a closet with her, the space so tight her plush curves pressed against him.
His cock threatened to respond to her nearness, and yet at this moment he still couldn’t tell her how sorry he was for . . . well, so many things.
Nima closed his eyes and silently sighed.
They flew open a few seconds later when the closet door rattled.
Was someone trying . . .? No, no one was trying to bust in.
The entire room shook. Damn it! Another earthquake.
The earth shouldn’t move like this. He braced his palm against the wall, as if he could stop the shaking, and tried to control his breathing.
Then something brushed against his thigh. Distracted, he glanced down to see Mari wrap her fingers around his. A tingle of awareness shivered through his whole body. Did she remember his fear of earthquakes? Was she trying to comfort him?
When the door rattled again, she squeezed his hand. After everything they’d been through, this small act of compassion made his eyes tear up. He wasn’t ashamed of crying. But all the same, he was glad Mari was facing the other way.
As Nima gave Mari’s hand a light squeeze of thanks in return, a pair of humans walked into the bathroom.
“They say the big one could hit at any time,” the man said.
Great, just what Nima didn’t need to be reminded about. As if the little quakes weren’t scary enough.
The woman clinging to the man’s arm said, “If the big one is going to hit, then we should make the most of our time before it does.”
When the man huskily responded, “So I didn’t need to pretend to bring you upstairs to see the tile?” Nima cringed but was also flattered. Apparently, his art was sneak-away-from-the-party-to-impress-your-date material.
“It’s pretty, but I thought you’d want to see this.” She dragged her top over her head, dark hair tumbling over bared skin.
The man sucked in what sounded like an appreciative breath as he stared at her chest. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “Anyone in the driveway could see us through the bedroom windows. Or someone could come upstairs and catch us.”
“Maybe I want to be seen,” the woman purred. “And heard.”
Oh. Crap.
So much for Mari’s covert attempt to see Nima’s work. He’d caught her spying on him while he’d been spying on her. This situation is so messed up!
And now? Aw, geez. Mari grimaced as she looked through the closet door slats at a woman’s bare back.
Her guy friend seemed to have his hands on her breasts, and from the moans and groans, they were both very into it—or maybe it was the possibility someone could see or hear them that was riling them up. If only they knew.
She should do something. Say something. But what?
Alerting the couple of their presence risked revealing the yeti secret.
Mari and Nima were trapped. Was she okay with witnessing this couple’s display?
Was Nima? Not that they had a choice—short of closing their eyes and plugging their ears.
She turned her head a fraction, gazing up at Nima from the corner of her eye, then gestured with her chin toward the lovebirds.
He shrugged a shoulder and squeezed her hand in silent acquiescence.
Right, so they were about to become voyeurs.
How had Mari’s special day gone on such a tangent?
From becoming a business owner to being stuck in a closet with her ex while a guy ravished a woman’s breasts on the other side of the slatted door.
When had anyone last shown attention like that to Mari’s boobs?
Years. And truthfully, she hadn’t enjoyed it.
She hadn’t enjoyed any of her partners’ attentions since Nima—the heartbreaker yeti who dreaded earthquakes and created the most beautiful tile lupines.
As Nima remained silent and motionless behind her, Mari’s shoulders drooped in resignation. She was stuck in one of the most awkward situations she’d ever been in. But what could she do?
As the couple outside the closet kissed like they needed each other’s mouths to survive, Mari thought back to the earthquake a few minutes earlier.
Despite the hurt and anger she felt toward Nima, she’d offered support when the tremor hit.
How could she not when his breaths had come in little bursts, and he’d flattened his palm against the wall like he could hold it up if it began to crumble around them?
She would have done the same for anyone in his situation. At least, that’s what she told herself.
As the couple backed toward the closet door, Mari instinctively pressed into Nima, pushing on his thigh in a futile attempt to tuck him further behind her and hide him. It surprised her. After all this time, she still felt protective of her yeti.
Her yeti? Uh, no. Her ex-yeti. Now that had a satisfying ring to it.
Actually, it didn’t. It was sad and empty-sounding. But it had been her reality for ten years. Hopefully, the divorce would help her move on.