The Picture

by Stephanie Taylor

  I turned my attention to the newscaster on TV speaking in a harried tone about the falling snow as though it signaled the end of the world. The population in the southern United States generally panicked at the mention of snow. Even though it was after eight in the evening and it just began snowing a few hours ago, schools had let out at noon. No doubt these same schools would be closed for a few days hence. I considered myself lucky to find a loaf of bread at the Chevron because people stocked up enough food to feed an army at the hint of snow in the forecast.

  “Looks like they upped the amount of snow. It was only a foot of snow earlier today.” Nicholas said as he walked up beside me to stand, all Green Giant-like with his legs spread wide and his arms folded across his chest. His blue eyes narrowed as he studied the TV.

  With great effort, I drew my gaze away from Nicholas and focused on what the news anchor said. Sure enough, they now predicted up to two and a half feet of snow. I had only been twelve the last time we saw that kind of snow.

  We stood in silence, listening.

  “This just in for our viewing area. The city of Huntsville has let us know that all side roads and overpasses are icing quickly. They are taking precautions and closing down roads that pose a threat to our community. For your safety, please do not try to go around roadblocks. It's best for you to stay inside if at all possible.”

  Nicholas and I looked at each other. “Guess I better head on before it gets any worse.”

  I just nodded my head and took a step in the direction of the front door, relieved that it was about to be over. But Nicholas didn't move and the step forward only put me closer to him. The look in his beautiful blue eyes stopped me. It was clear he was trying to figure out how to say something to me.

  Clearing my throat again, I decided I would help him out. “Aren't you going to yell at me?” I dropped my gaze to our feet and waited for his answer.

  “Yell at you? Why?”

  “For not giving you the picture right away.”

  At his chuckle, I looked at that smiling mouth, so beautiful and perfect. “I should be asking you that question.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I owe you an apology.”

  Floored, I could only gape at him.

  “I've already yelled at you once, and I don't want to do it again, Sophie. I'm sorry I lost it when I saw Emily's picture. It caught me off guard.”

  I frowned at him. “What?”

  He smiled again, that dimple in his cheek winking at me wickedly. “It wasn't fair to you. Especially after all you did for Emily.”

  For once, I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I hated it when people felt obligated to me after someone died. I often received five-page thank you notes, flowers, and chocolate for my services. I guess I should feel lucky that I made an impression on the families of the sick, but it mainly just cheapened the experience for me. “I did what I did for Emily because I wanted to, not because it was expected. And you're forgiven.”

  He looked at me and crossed his arms. “You're not going to get all hormonal on me and play the estrogen card? Now's your chance, you know.”

  I chuckled at that. “No. I think I’m the one who owes you an apology anyway. I should have told you on the roof, when we were talking about her.”

  “Maybe so, but we can't change it now.” He shrugged. His eyes roamed my face and I got the impression he was sizing me up in light of the new information he had about me. When they finally settled on my lips, I knew I was in trouble. I needed him to leave. Soon.

  “It's getting late.” I pointed at the TV. There were road closings scrolling across the bottom of the screen now.

  “Yeah,” he said and snapped his fingers together. He pushed away from the couch and walked the short distance the front door. He turned to me at the last minute and I almost collided with him.

  “Thanks again,” he murmured and gathered me in his arms. I didn't want to admit how good it felt to be there after so many months of imagining it, but I closed my eyes and allowed myself to melt into his embrace. I allowed myself to enjoy the brief connection I swore I didn't want. But in that moment, all I wanted was for him to stay with me and hold me just like this.

  Our friendship was still oddly placed in my mind. We spoke in circles about Emily, avoiding anything too deep. It was like we were afraid of each other. I suppose when I thought about it, that was the exact emotion I felt toward Nicholas.

  Fear.

  Mainly because he was a representation of all I hoped to avoid.

  He pulled away and I read the intent in his eyes but I couldn't be weak like I was at the hotel. I turned my head at the last minute and his lips touched my cheek.

  The frustrated exhale of his breath against my face touched me, but I knew Nicholas wasn't feeling anything emotional, only physical. I felt the blood slogging through my veins and tampered it down.

  “I don't do casual, Nicholas, remember?” As I looked at him, my heart danced all funny in my chest, like it was closing up and I couldn't breathe. Those electric blue eyes bore a hole straight through me. I couldn't really read what he felt just then and that bothered me. I relied a lot on physical communication in my line of work and when I couldn't read someone, I felt a little inept.

  “Right,” he drawled, a sarcastic grin quirking one corner of his mouth.

  He opened the door behind him and slipped out, letting a burst of cold air in. I shivered but focused on locking the door and turning back to the TV for the latest weather update. My brain worked overtime. I tried to push the feel of Nicholas's lips against my cheek out of my mind, but my heart kept coming back to it.

  I sat there for a while, wondering how on earth I was going to survive this. I hadn't even thought to ask Nicholas why he was here.

  So lost in thought, I almost didn't hear the knock at my door. I didn't get visitors and the few I did usually had the wrong apartment number.

  Through the peephole, I saw Nicholas stood at the door. I opened it, waiting for an explanation. He briskly rubbed his hands together and blew on them, narrowing his eyes from the cold on me.

  “The highway is closed and they won't let me through.”

  I continued to stare at him, not really understanding what he tried to say. When I raised my eyebrows, he assumed the manly stance with his hands on his hips.

  “I'm going to have to stay with you.”

  Chapter 6

  Sometime during the night, the power went out. The howling wind woke me up well before the cold did. I tried not to think about Nicholas lying on my couch a mere room away, but as the room grew frigid, I decided I needed to start a fire. Luckily, there was a stash of firewood tucked in the bottom of my coat closet for times like these.

  I opened the door to my bedroom and was surprised to see the glow of a fire already started. Nicholas knelt in front of it, the orange flames illuminating the hard planes of his body. As I stepped closer, I could see he was studying the fire with a concentration I had never seen in his face before. I imagined he was thinking of Emily.

  He wore black flannel lounge pants and a long sleeve t-shirt he had taken from his suitcase earlier that evening. He stirred the fire and the muscles in his arms and chest flexed with delicious ripples. His hair was casually rumpled from sleep and his feet were bare.

  “The radio says the temperature dropped to about twelve degrees,” he said without turning around. “It's about forty in here.”

  I clasped the neck of my robe and shivered. “What time is it?”

  He glanced down at his silver watch. “About three a.m.”

  Once the flames licked their way up the wood, he stood and looked at me with a faint grin. “Cold?”

  I nodded and realized then how ridiculous I must have looked. I hadn't even brushed my hair.

  “Well, I don't think sleeping in your room is an option right now. It's probably best to keep the door closed so we can keep the heat in here.”

  I nodded again and took another step toward the fire. My stocking
feet were already numb from the cold. He didn't say anything else, but he strolled into my room, grabbed my pillow and the comforter off the bed, and brought them into the living room. He then made a pallet on the floor in front of the fire with all the blankets from the couch and put both of our pillows down next to each other. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he intended for us to get warm the primal way.

  Nicholas caught my look and held his hands up in defense. “No funny business,” he promised. “I'm just trying to keep warm, too.”

  I considered him for a moment, wondering if there was truth in his words or if he wanted to get close to me. Finally, I gave up thinking. I didn't really care after all and wanted to be warm more than I wanted to fight with him. So, I laid down on the pallet, robe and all, and huddled up with the covers up to my ears. He chuckled low in his throat and joined me, curling up behind me and throwing his arm around my waist.

  My heart rate accelerated when his hand found mine and he threaded our fingers together. I didn't move away but when I was in fight or flight mode, like now, my instincts screamed for me to run.

  “Relax, remember body heat is the best way to warm up.” His voice was against my ear, his lips grazing them as he spoke. My blood certainly flowed fine now.

  I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn't making any moves on me, we were sharing body heat, and his hands never strayed from their respectful positions. When I stayed in his hotel room, he hadn't even laid with me then but slept on the couch. He could be a gentleman, but I also knew he didn't want to be. He was too playful.

  Soon enough, his slow breathing alerted me to the fact that he was asleep. I was warm in the robe lying so close to the fire, but it was a good warm. A cozy warm.

  A peaceful warm.

  ***

  I awakened to a chill on my nose but the rest of me was toasty. I was face to face with Nicholas now and I wasn't quite sure where I began and he ended. Our legs were all tangled and his arms held me close. For a second, I remembered all too well how wonderful this sensation was – to wake up next to a handsome man. I remembered how easy it would be for me to press my lips to his and start something intimate.

  I used to be good at playing seductress – or so I thought. Not that I wanted that with Nicholas...well, it wasn't that I didn't want intimacy with Nicholas, but as I mentioned several times to him already, I didn't do casual. Nicholas was a love 'em and leave 'em type and I knew based on my feelings for Emily and the feelings I wouldn't let through for Nicholas, it could only spell trouble for me in the long run.

  Nicholas's hand began to roam up and down my back. His eyes were still closed and his free hand was fisted against his chin. “The fire went out, didn't it?” he mumbled, barely moving his mouth.

  I couldn't help but grin. “Yeah.”

  “Crap,” he said but still didn't move or open his eyes. “I was having a really good dream.”

  “What about?” I was curious.

  “I was dreaming about holding a beautiful redhead in my arms all night. There was candle light and everything.” His hands continued to trace a path up and down, never wandering from my spine too low.

  “Sounds like some dream.” I was afraid of where this was headed.

  “It was. Why don't you let me get back to it and you take care of that fire over there.”

  Again, I grinned, unable to contain it. He was quite the handsome guy with his five o'clock shadow. I moved to get up and his arm tightened around me.

  “I was kidding,” he mumbled. Nicholas had the power to unnerve me with his grin but it was his eyes that never failed to devastate me. Slowly, he peeped at me through the veil of thick lashes. Those electric blue eyes pinned me with a stare that seemed strangely intense and playful at the same time. “Mmm,” he groaned. “It wasn't a dream after all.”

  A thought entered my mind that perhaps I wasn't the first person to hear those words. I went still and watched him, waiting to see what he would do next.

  The hand that was rubbing my back came up to touch my cheek. He was fully awake now and his gaze was trained on my mouth. I knew if I didn't stop it now it wouldn't be stopped. But for a moment, I wanted to be one of those cheap, easy women he spent the night with and said goodbye to in the morning. I didn't want to be riddled with the baggage that followed me. Right now, I was just Sophie and he was just Nicholas. Nothing fancy, nothing emotional.

  So before he could kiss me, I kissed him. It felt good to be the initiator. I had sat back for so many years, waiting for someone to come to me. It was like I was taking life by the reigns again and making my own destiny.

  The soft flesh of his lips melted against mine, slightly parted in surprise from my advance. My head came off my pillow and I deepened it, touching my tongue to his when he let me in. His fingers speared through my hair and grabbed a fistful of it. It didn't hurt but it did make my blood flow like warm molasses. His groan told me that I succeeded in what I set out to do, but I wasn't prepared for him to take control of the kiss and put me flat on my back.

  His weight felt so good against me, I was beginning to doubt my reasons for not doing casual relationships. Nicholas was everything I wanted to avoid in the long term, but everything I needed in that moment. Who better to do casual with than Nicholas? At least I knew exactly where I stood with him.

  I was nothing but a warm body.

  A strong hand grabbed my side as he pinched at my skin. Our kissing grew to a fevered pitch and it was my turn to run my fingers through his thick sable hair and hold him close to me. He suckled my bottom lip and then lowered to my neck, nipping and licking until I sighed and groaned like the hussy I apparently was.

  “This is even better than my dream,” he whispered against my mouth and delved in once more. I held him close then, rubbed my hands down his clothed back and scratched as they slid up. My legs came up and wrapped around his waist.

  Nicholas placed all his weight against me then, anchoring me to the floor. I sensed his retreat and I tried to squirm against him, to bring him back to the careless place we just left, but I couldn't move. His hands removed mine from his hair and locked them above my head in his grasp.

  Humiliation swamped through me and I stopped moving. He was rejecting me. Stupidity was my middle name when it came to men anyway, so this shouldn't have been such a surprise. But there he was, kissing me chastely when all I wanted from him was dirty sex. What did it say about me that a man with so many notches in his bedpost didn't want me? Was that bulge I felt even then just a reaction to the circumstance?

  “Uh uh,” he said when I stopped kissing him. “I know what you're thinking so stop it right now.”

  He didn't know anything.

  “I want this even more than you do and that's why I'm stopping. You've made it clear that you didn't want to have sex with me from the very beginning and I'm trying to be a gentleman here and honor your wishes.”

  Hot tears pricked my eyelids and I felt even more stupid and manipulative. “We need to get a fire re-started, Nicholas. We'll freeze to death if we don't.”

  “Ah, honey,” he argued. “I can tell you right now I'm in no immediate danger of freezing.”

  I rolled my eyes at the lame attempt to lighten the mood, and pushed at his shoulders. “Get off of me.”

  “Not until you look at me.”

  That was the last thing I wanted to do. Nicholas had a way of seeing straight through me. He nudged my nose with his and I finally did as he requested.

  “I want you, Sophie.”

  Of all the things to say, he’d chosen the one that made me feel needed. Not needed in the way I was at work, but needed emotionally, as if my being there with him filled a part of him previous empty. He still had my hands or I would have snatched the stupid tear away and ran for the hills. This was why I didn't sleep around.

  “I mean it,” he said. “When I first saw you at the after-party I knew I had to have you. In case you didn't notice, I was pretty single-minded that night after we got back t
o the hotel room.”

  I'd noticed all right, but that didn't change anything now.

  “Look at me,” he urged again, a trace of annoyance in his tone. So I did, being the pleaser I was.

  “I don't want to do something you're going to regret later. I owe it to you to be more than that.”

  And there it was. The inevitable, obligatory thought that put all of this into perspective more than anything else ever could. Nicholas felt like he owed me something for all I did for Emily.

  “You don't owe me anything,” I spat as I tugged at my hands, needing to be free. His grip just tightened on my hands and his weight pressed me into the floor.

  “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. But am I crazy for wanting to do this right?” His eyes were soft and he swept his gaze over my face. I had no idea who he was. One minute he was soft and tender, the next cold and harsh.

  “Yes, you are. Before I know it, you'll be pretending to love me, then you'll say you want to marry me ... just because you owe it to me.”

  “What are you talking about?” he said, looking genuinely mystified.

  “Nothing. Forget it. Just let me up.”

  He studied my face for a moment but then did as I asked. I went to work at the fireplace with shaking hands and my heart pounding, placing another log on top of the charred remains of the previous one. I was angry. No, scratch that, I was furious. My life didn't have room for this kind of stupidity. Who was I kidding? I didn't want this kind of trouble.

  “Sophie,” I heard softly behind me. I ignored him and lit some paper to place under the log and watched it catch.

  “Sophie,” he said louder. “I don't want to fight with you.”

  Yeah, he didn't want to do much of anything with me. Still, I kept silent.

  I watched the fire burn for a long while before I got up and moved to the kitchen, trying to figure out what we could do for breakfast. I found some strawberry Pop Tarts and tossed a pack to Nicholas, who was watching my movements with a disconcerting stillness.