Revealing Nicola

by Sam Cheever

  He peered more closely at the corpse. She was right. “A rattler?” He shook his head. “Well, I guess I was wrong. There was a squatter in the cabin.”

  She shuddered. “I’m not going to be able to sleep until we make sure there aren’t any more.”

  “I’ll do a thorough search as soon as I get the firewood.” He grabbed the gun off the counter. “I think I’ll just take the gun with me this time.”

  She shrugged. “That’s okay. I can still scream.”

  “Lord help me,” he muttered to the sound of her renewed laughter.

  ###

  Sleeping conditions were a bit tight in the cabin. The loft held a double bed, not nearly wide enough to chastely share in Nici’s opinion. The couch in front of the fire was wide and lumpy, but it had the added benefit of being in front of the fire...which Nici had to admit was just about the best fire she’d ever seen. “You are a true fire building virtuoso,” she told Franco with a smile.

  He laughed. “Just one of my many talents.” His gaze held hers, the firelight painting the side of his handsome face in warm tones. She saw the heat in that gaze, and recognized a quick answering fire in her sexual core. Common sense told her giving in to the attraction she felt for him would be stupid. Even wrong. And lord knew she was currently at a disadvantage. She was feeling vulnerable and, for the first time in her life, unsure about her place in the world.

  “Can I get you some more wine?”

  She tipped the plastic cup she was holding and peered inside. Sure enough, it was empty. That might explain the warm tightness in her lower belly.

  He leaned over her outstretched legs and wrapped his fingers around the cup, his touch against her own fingers like a brand. The electricity that arced between them with the slightest touch was a little scary. Something that Nici hadn’t really experienced before. She’d had relationships, of course. Even thought she was in love a few times. But never before had a man affected her the way Franco did.

  A single look, the merest touch, a certain tone of voice was all it took for her hormones to stand up and take notice. She flushed as he tugged at the cup, realizing her fingers had tightened over it.

  She shook her head. “Thanks. I think I’m done. We need to talk about sleeping arrangements.”

  “Nothing to talk about. You’re in the loft and I’m down here. I’m staying between you and anything that might come through that door.”

  She frowned and watched him tense for a fight. “I’m more worried about what might come out of the walls.”

  He relaxed slightly. “I checked the loft very carefully. There’s nothing up there to worry about.

  She rubbed her arms and shuddered, remembering the way the rattler had looked at her when she’d come face to face with it. “I’m not feeling very confident about that at the moment.”

  He pushed to his feet and reached for her hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you up and check again so you can get some rest.” She let him pull her to her feet, tugging self-consciously at the flimsy shorts she wore. She should have tried the little pajama set on before buying it. Between the paper thin tank top that seemed to highlight her nipples rather than hide them and the ridiculously short shorts, she barely felt dressed.

  “That’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

  Without actually moving, he suddenly seemed closer, the clean, masculine scent of his big body bathing her in heat. “You sure? Because I really don’t mind.”

  Nici glanced up, swallowing hard as her body swayed helplessly in his direction. “No...I’m...” She blinked, realizing suddenly that her self-control was badly compromised. “I should go now.”

  Franco skimmed a heated touch along her jawline, wrapping his fingers loosely around the front of her throat. “Sleep well.”

  Nici’s eyes fluttered closed as his other hand found her hip. He was so hot, the fabric of the shorts so thin, that it felt as if he touched her bare skin. A beat of time passed and Nici’s eyes came open. She looked into his impossibly handsome face, surprised by the frown she saw there.

  He dropped his hands and stepped back, looking angry.

  Embarrassed, Nici turned and hurried toward the rustic staircase at the side of the room. She hit the first step and ran lightly up to the loft, wishing she had a door she could hide behind.

  Diving under the covers, the fabric of the sheets slightly rough against her skin, Nici grimaced at the dusty scent of the bedding. They’d found the sheets and a couple of blankets in a closet in the loft. Though she’d taken the bedding outside and vigorously shaken it to freshen it a bit, she’d feel better once it got a good wash and some fabric softener.

  She lay there, wide eyed, for several moments, listening to Franco pace downstairs. She didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep, but after a while her eyes began to droop and, a few moments later, she succumbed to the weariness wrought from the two days of upheaval.

  She slept deeply and didn’t wake until the stairs to the loft creaked in the early morning hours.

  Her eyes flew open and her pulse skyrocketed. Reaching beneath her pillow, Nici pulled out the steak knife she’d hidden there when she’d made up the bed.

  She gripped the knife and waited, barely breathing as a tall, dark form ascended the stairs and stopped.

  She couldn’t see his eyes but she knew he was staring at her. Forcing herself to breathe, she slowly emptied and refilled her lungs.

  Her fingers loosened on the knife and she deliberately allowed the tenseness to leave her muscles. “Is something wrong?”

  The figure on the stairs jerked, surprised by her voice through the dark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just going fishing. I wanted to make sure you were all right before I went out.”

  She pushed to her elbows, shoving a hand through her hair. “Fishing? In the pond?”

  He nodded. “I found a couple of rods in the shed outside.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Four am.”

  Shoving back the covers, she climbed from the bed. “Let me get dressed and I’ll come too.”

  He jolted again, clearly surprised. “You like to fish?”

  She grabbed some jeans and her hoodie, pulling them on over her pjs. “Of course. Doesn’t everybody?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The water slapped softly against the dock. The wind and rain from the night before had thankfully gone and the air was cool but not cold. They fished to a bull frog serenade, the chorus as varied as it was enthusiastic.

  Franco held his bamboo pole out over the water with one hand and sipped hot coffee with the other. He watched Nici scrutinize her bobber and was fascinated by her laser focus. She’d thrown into the strip of silver the moon painted across the pond so her bobber was easier to see than his. “When did you learn to fish?” he finally asked.

  She picked her coffee mug up off the dock and sipped it before responding. “When I was five my dad bundled me up in a life vest and blanket and propped me in the bow of his old fishing boat. He and my brother always went fishing together and I hated that they left me behind.” She smiled at the memory. “I guess I spaced on the whole before sunrise part of the event.” She laughed, sitting forward as her bobber danced on the water. After a moment, when it didn’t move again, she continued her story. “I slept through the first time, waking up as the boat bounced against the bumpers on the dock.” She shook her head. “I didn’t mind that I’d missed the actual fishing. I was just glad I was there. From then on dad always took me and, after a year or so I even managed to stay awake for most of it.”

  “Did you catch any fish?” He grinned at the picture she must have made, sitting in the front of the boat with her long, curly hair, her skinny arms pushed out by a fat orange vest.

  She slid him a quick look. “The first bass I caught was an eight pounder. The catfish I caught the next summer was thirty-six inches long and weighed twenty-one pounds. I won the fishing tournament at the state park three years in a row.”

  “Only
three?”

  She spared him a quick glance. “I went to college and traded fish for boys.”

  He chuckled. “You’re just a classic overachiever aren’t you?”

  She grinned up at him. “What can I say?”

  The end of her pole dipped violently and Nici gave a soft squeal, pushing to her feet. Franco fought the urge to help her, knowing somehow that she’d take offense. But as she set her feet wide and began working the pole to bury the hook, he couldn’t stop himself from getting closer to the action. Standing right behind her, he let his pole droop unwatched as he marveled at her style.

  But the best part was the way she murmured to herself the whole time. Psyching herself up.

  “That’s it, bubba, come to mama. Oh, did you think you were gonna swim away? Too bad, so sad...”

  Franco couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.

  “Almost there. Okay let’s see what you got.” She tugged the pole skyward and it bowed under the weight of the fish she’d hooked. She danced backward, trying to coax the monster out of the water, and ran into Franco. He had no choice. He had to wrap his arms around her and hold on or he would have gone over the other side into the water.

  She squealed in delight as a thick body broke the surface of the water and sailed into the air, dancing for all it was worth as it fought the hook in its wide, gaping mouth.

  “It’s a bass!” Franco said excitedly. “And look at the size.”

  She did a happy little dance but the monster on her line nearly made her pay for it. The fish jerked hard just before it hit the water again and dived, pulling the pole nearly out of Nici’s hands.

  Franco grabbed for it just before it slipped through her fingers and she swore softly.

  “That wasn’t nice, bubba. Just for that I’m eating you for breakfast.”

  Franco and Nici worked the big fish for several more minutes before she managed to get him to the dock. The bass was so big he barely fit in the bucket Franco had placed on shore. Then they collapsed to the dock, exhausted but exhilarated.

  Finally she looked at him. “Where’s your pole?”

  He jerked his head around and swore. “It was right here a minute ago.”

  They stood up, squinting into the rising light in search of the errant pole. Nici finally spotted it gliding across the pond. “They tag teamed us,” she said with feigned disgust.

  “Yeah.” He barked out a laugh. “They certainly did.”

  With the rising sun came a rising wind. Franco reached over and tugged the zipper of her hoodie up to her chin. “It’s getting cool out here. Let’s get you inside before you catch your death.”

  She grabbed her pole. “I don’t get sick.”

  He followed her off the dock and grabbed the bucket, which felt like it weighed about thirty pounds. Not much of it was water. “Good immunity, huh?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. I just never get sick.”

  “Even as a kid?”

  “No measles, no chicken pox, no colds or flu.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Yeah.” She frowned. “Except I never got to miss school.”

  He held the cabin door for her just as thunder rolled across the charcoal gray sky. Franco could smell the storm in the air. It smelled like it was gonna be a good one. Her revelation bothered him somehow, made him sad. Kids didn’t like to be different. Even if the difference was that they were always healthy while everyone else was sick.

  He’d thought he couldn’t be more surprised by her than he already was. But once they got inside, Nici grabbed a cutting board and a large knife from the kitchen and headed out to the covered porch. “Where are you going?”

  She threw him a look over her shoulder. “To clean the fish. We can’t have fish for breakfast if I don’t.”

  He’d been expecting her to hand him the bucket and turn away, letting him go hands deep in blood and fish scales. But clearly her father had taught her everything she needed to know about fishing, including how to clean them. “I’ll...” He frowned, realizing she was putting kinks in his image of being the powerful male protector...turning the tables on him in small but stinging ways. The thought made him laugh. He’d never realized he was one of those men. The kind who thought women were weak and his job was to protect them.

  “I’ll just...” He pointed off toward the back of the cabin, his mind wrapping itself around the idea of chopping some firewood or some other manly kind of thing. But even as he turned away, leaving her to her fileting, he couldn’t help the thought that she could probably even do that better than he could.

  Amazingly, the thought only made him smile. That was the moment Franco realized that deep down he wasn’t one of those men. He just played one on the job.

  ###

  As thunder pounded and rain poured outside the cabin, they wiled away the hours inside playing go fish with an ancient deck of cards Nici’d found in a drawer in the kitchen. She’d quickly learned that Franco was every bit as competitive as she was...no easy feat...and the childhood game turned all too rapidly into a game of guts and glory as Franco dared her to tell one embarrassing secret for every hand she lost.

  Never one to let a challenge pass her by, Nici readily agreed. Lucky for her, Franco lost the next three hands.

  He threw his losing cards down and scrubbed a big hand over his face. “I don’t know how you did it but you’ve rigged this game.”

  Nici giggled, scooping up the cards and shuffling them like a pro. “Stop your whining and give it up. I need another embarrassing secret from you.”

  He sighed, sitting back against the couch and sipping his beer as he stared at the fire. Nici stilled when pain turned his features taut. He clenched one hand on his thigh and flexed his jaw, his pain so obvious even a heartless card shark like Nici couldn’t ignore it. She suddenly felt bad for making him pay the price. “It’s okay. I’m tired of cards anyway.”

  Franco’s intense gaze spun toward her, locking onto her face. His lips were pressed in a tight line, somehow managing not to look any less intriguing for the tension there. “No. I don’t back away from a challenge. I owe you a painful secret and you’re going to get it.”

  She bit her lip, suddenly not liking the idea at all. “No really, I...”

  He was staring at the fire, the beer clutched in one hand as he seemed to view his painful past in the dancing flames. “I grew up in a tough part of the city. People were poor and felt helpless against the challenges facing them. He shrugged. “I guess it was easy for them to try to gain strength by making somebody else feel weak. I was only six when I got beat up for the first time. I was small for my age and there was always somebody who thought I’d be an easy target.”

  Nici stilled, her heart breaking as she pictured a tiny Franco, his little jaw tight and tiny fists clenched in the face of certain pain. “Oh Franco.”

  He shook his head, sipping his beer without looking at her. He was clearly embarrassed by the admission that he was small and a target. She reached for him, twining her fingers through his. “That’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

  He didn’t respond. His silence lingered between them like a punishment. She’d been wrong to insist on his secrets. Even though it had been his idea to do it in the first place. She moved closer. “I’m sorry. Let’s just forget the game...”

  His shoulders shook and she stilled, horror clutching her lungs so she could barely breathe. He was crying! “Oh dear god, Franco.”

  He turned and she thought she was ready for the depth of emotion there.

  She couldn’t possibly have been ready for what she saw.

  Nici smacked him hard on the shoulder. “You ass!”

  Franco swiped at the tears sliding down his cheeks, his mouth opening on a shout of laughter as he finally released the hilarity he’d been fighting to hold back. “You’re such a sap.”

  Nici crossed her arms over her chest. “You tear my heart into pieces and then you laugh?”

  He grabbed for her a
rm and she jerked it away, trying to push to her feet. “Nici...”

  She shook him off. “I can’t believe you played with my emotions like that.” She glared at him, her voice warbling with hurt.

  His grin disappeared immediately. “I’m sorry, Nic. It was just a joke.”

  “I was a victim of real bullying. How can you be so callous?”

  “Oh god, I really am sorry...”

  She grinned and he stilled, his lips moving for a moment as he tried to figure out what had just happened. Finally he shook his head. “You turned the tables on me.”

  “I did.”

  He expelled a long sigh and turned back to the fire. “I can’t believe it.”

  She chuckled softly. “You deserved it, Franc....ahhhh!!!”

  He grabbed her ankle and tugged, sending her falling backward to bounce against the couch. She barely had time to squeal out a laugh before he was on her, his big body covering hers and pressing it into the lumpy couch. “You’re gonna pay for that, Nic.”

  She let her eyes go wide, feigning fear. “You wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”

  He grasped her hands and pulled them over her head, pressing them into the couch. “Or what? You’ll tell on me?”

  “I will,” she said, nodding. “I’ll tell Mr...erm...Gordon.”

  Franco’s gaze found her lips and darkened with heat. “I don’t think you will.” He lowered his head and she stopped breathing. Her heart pounding hard and fast.

  “I will tell him, you know I will.” She squirmed in an attempt to escape his grip but he was just too big, too heavy, too hot and hard.

  She slammed her lips closed on a moan as he pressed himself against her, the hard ridge of flesh on her belly turning her insides to a pool of molten need.

  “You’re right,” he said suddenly. “I should stop.” Before she knew what he was intending, Franco was standing and offering a hand up. “It’s late. You should turn in.”

  Nici was in a daze as he pulled her to her feet. She realized her mouth was hanging open and forced it closed, swallowing hard. “Um, yeah. It is late. I’ll just...” she pointed toward the stairs but didn’t move.