Lost and Found [Harvest Moon: A New Beginning]

Wishes

Eager to get to work—or more accurately, eager to see Rio again—Vaughn showed up at a little after 5:00 the next morning. He knocked lightly, then again more firmly when there was no response. He heard a crash and a thud and muffled swearing, followed by footsteps approaching as she yelled, "Who the hell is it? Do you have any idea what time it is? Is someone dying?"

Then the door opened, and there she stood, fumbling with the tie of a short silk robe. She looked just like he remembered her: tall, tan, narrow waist between full breasts and hips, those long, lean legs, thick brown-black hair with streaks of gold where the sun had kissed it... and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen, glaring blearily at him. "Oh, it's you. So no one's dying—yet." She opened the door a little wider as she stifled a yawn. "Goddess, Vaughn... I know I said early, but don't get carried away."

The phrase "carried away" echoed in his head as he walked through the doorway, and glancing over at her disheveled bed, he thought to himself that getting carried away was exactly what he'd like to do with her. Pulling himself together, he felt relieved that at least she seemed to have slept alone—there was no sign of that Neil kid.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Rio stumbled into the kitchen and switched on the coffeemaker, staring at it blankly until the black liquid started trickling into the carafe and the fragrance of the strong brew began to fill the room. With a yawn, she turned to the refrigerator and opened the door. "Well, since you're here so early, I assume you haven't eaten yet?"

"No. No one was up yet when I left." He stared at her, unable to keep his eyes from her. Goddess, he'd missed her, and in so many ways—but right at that moment, one outweighed all the others, and it was a struggle for him to focus on anything but the tantalizing glimpses of her bronzed skin that taunted him as it peeked out from beneath her robe. She'd always slept in the nude when they'd been together—and it looked as though that hadn't changed. He swallowed hard and ran a hand through his silver hair as he tried and failed to look anywhere else.

She pulled out eggs, mushrooms, cheese, milk, and a pitcher of juice and set about making a mushroom omelet. After pouring the egg mixture into the pan, she grabbed a loaf of sliced bread and started some toast, then poured two mugs of strong, black coffee. In a very short time, they were sitting down to breakfast.

"Thanks," Vaughn muttered. "Smells good. I miss your porridge, though. No one makes it as good as you do."

"I haven't made that since I left the Islands," she replied over her coffee mug. "I can't stand the stuff."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah? I never knew that. You always seemed to eat it fine."

"I only made it when you were there, and I only got it down by not thinking about it. That's why I was usually so talkative at breakfast—I was distracting myself from what I was eating."

"Huh. Why bother to eat it then?" he asked.

"Because you loved it. And because, bland as it is, at least it's nutritious and filling. It didn't kill me to eat it, I just don't like it," she replied with a little shrug, then she turned her attention back to her food, ending the conversation.

After breakfast, he looked at the kitchen and then at her. "I could, uh, I could clean up," he suggested, a little hopefully, wanting to linger in her company as long as he could. Especially while she was still in that little robe.

"Vaughn... I need to get dressed," she sighed, looking exasperated.

Damn, he thought to himself. "Then, uh...."

"Why don't you go check on your horse? I'll only be a few minutes," she said, pushing him out the door.

"Yeah. Sure," he muttered as he stomped off towards the barn.