To find happiness, first you have to find yourself.
Krissa has always been the responsible one. Driven to fulfill her mother's abandoned dreams, to make her husband Derek happy. She's brought that single-minded determination to the one dream she has for herself -- a child. Except she and Derek can't conceive, and Derek refuses to consider using a stranger's sperm. The result? Guilt that her desperation is causing their marital rift.
The last thing they need is a long-term houseguest, but Derek's best friend Nate, a nomadic photographer recovering from a career-threatening eye disorder, has nowhere else to go.
Nate thought his friends' home would be a temporary haven from the grief that has dogged his heels since his wife died. Instead he's in the middle of a marriage in meltdown. Soon their friendship develops an underlying hum of forbidden sexual tension. When Krissa proposes a wild idea -- that Nate be their sperm donor -- Derek has an even wilder proposal: bypass the fertility clinic and accept Nate's donation straight from the source.
At first, Krissa believes she's on the fast track to having her dream. But it quickly becomes clear that when the heart gets involved -- and secrets are revealed -- the simplest of arrangements can become entangled beyond belief. Or repair.
Reviews:
RT Book Reviews: 4 Stars
"Jamieson creates an emotionally complex, well-written story about relationships. The moderate pace allows for absorption of details in this complex, affecting romance. Love scenes are alternately hot and tender..."
Joyfully Reviewed
"Loved Lost and Found! Kelly Jamieson has taken an almost taboo subject and made it realistic. Add in a surprise I wasn't expecting and Lost and Found consumed me for the time it took me to read this enticing novel... Lost and Found stayed with me for hours after I finished reading. Nate and Krissa just worked for me and I wanted their happy ever after in the worst way! Kelly Jamieson now has a permanent place on my keeper shelf and I can't wait to see what she writes next."
Dr. J’s Book Place 5 out of 5
"I can't believe there isn't a romance fan "out there" that won't love this novel."
The bathroom door opened, spilling light into the room which Krissa quickly extinguished with a flick of her fingers. Candlelight shimmered on the satiny gown and her glossy hair.
Nate threw back the covers and stood. He was naked, but who cared. He walked to Krissa and without saying a word, took her in his arms.
"I'm sorry, bunny," he murmured against her hair. He held her slender body against him, tried to show her with the hug that he cared. He couldn't say the words but he could show her. His erection surged again, against the thin silk over her warm body. She had to feel it.
He stroked her silky hair, and held her, her arms folded between them. He rocked her gently, soothingly. "I'm sorry," he said again. "Come on. Come back to bed."
He released her and took her hand, led her back to the bed, her barefoot steps hesitant. He climbed onto the bed first, sat with his back against the pillows and headboard and covered his lower half with the duvet. He held out a hand to her. She extended her arm and put her small hand in his. They looked at each other. Their eyes met, and heat wrapped around him, seeped into him, warmed him. Her liquid green eyes shone in the candlelight. He dropped his gaze to her shoulders, the smooth curve of them, the jut of her collarbones, the ribs faintly visible beneath satiny skin, the shadowy hollow between her breasts revealed by the V of the gown. Gently, he pulled her toward him. She ended up in his lap, and he tipped her chin up with his knuckles.
"You're beautiful, Krissa," he murmured.
"Thank you."
They sat there, silence filling the room, flickering candlelight casting a golden glow over them. Nate stared down into Krissa's eyes, trying to assure her that it was okay. He stroked a last tear from under her eye with his thumb. He looked at her mouth, vulnerable and soft. Bent his head lower, his mouth nearing hers. She held his gaze, and her pretty lips parted. He was so close he could feel her warm breath sighing in and out. His eyelids felt heavy and he let them droop closed as he closed the distance and touched his mouth to hers.
It was the softest, gentlest kiss, a brush of his mouth on hers, then again. Then he deepened the pressure, opened his mouth against hers and he tilted his head for a better angle. Their tongues touched, tentative, questioning, warm and wet, and they kissed again, and again, long, delicious kisses, lush licks, clinging lips. Small whimpers came from Krissa's throat.
"Oh, Krissa." Nate lifted his mouth from hers to mutter her name, slid his hands into her hair and held her head. "Kiss me, Krissa."
And she did. Over and over, shifting closer. Her hands slid up his chest and held onto his shoulders; her fingertips stroked his neck. His hands explored her body, over the silk, caressed her waist and hips and thighs.
Oh fuck. Fuck me. Nate was lost. Her mouth destroyed him, soft and warm and eager, kissing him back like she was starving for him. Her desire for him ignited something inside him, a spark turning into a blazing fire, heating him from the inside out, making him gasp.
"Beautiful, Krissa," he murmured against the sensitive skin of her throat. He covered the pulse fluttering in her throat in an open-mouthed kiss, absorbing the beat of her heart. "Isn't she, Derek?"
"Yeah." Derek's voice was low and rough. "Beautiful."
"I'm sorry about earlier," Nate said, his throat aching. "I didn't understand…Now, we're both going to make love to you." Nate stroked her bare thigh. "We're going to make it good for you. Right, Derek?"
