Burning for You

by Dunaway, Michele

  He put his hand on his chest. Pouted. “Potential. Gee.”

  “Such an ego.” Taylor laughed. “If you were an expert, you wouldn’t need me here.”

  He looked heavenward. “You wound me, but who can argue with such logic?”

  “Certainly not you.” She held the camera out. “Want to try again?”

  “Pork steaks are done. Food’s ready,” Marvin called. He waved his spatula. “Get plates and eat it while it’s hot.”

  “Let’s postpone for just a bit,” Joe said.

  “Okay.”

  He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the serving tables. She tried not to tremble. It was a polite gesture, nothing more, but his touch still sent quivers through her. She swallowed another hiccup, warning her traitorous body to calm down.

  “There’s Susie.”

  A group of women and kids headed up the hill. She recognized Susie immediately, for she was the one covered up. Despite the steady breeze, she had to be hot. Even though she wore a tank top, she’d topped it with a light plaid fabric, long-sleeve top that she wore over a pair of faded blue jeans.

  A girl about three held onto her hand. “That’s Susie and Winnie,” Joe confirmed. He handed Taylor a paper plate of full food. “In this family, you snooze, you lose,” he told her. “The only ones safe around here are the kids. They’re getting hot dogs.”

  She assumed he was joking as there appeared to be more than enough food. “You eating something too?”

  He grinned. “Yep.” He gestured to a cloth-covered table. “Have a seat. Be right back.”

  She plopped down on the picnic bench and set her plate down. The action allowed her time to study Joe’s family. The full crowd had arrived. Winnie giggled, held aloft on dad Parker’s shoulders. Susie laughed at something as she filled a plate and handed it to her husband. Then they joined Taylor at the table. Seconds later, Joe sat down with his own loaded plate.

  “So you’re the photographer,” Parker said.

  “Taylor,” Joe offered, grabbing a clear plastic knife.

  “Taylor,” Winnie parroted, a smear of barbeque sauce from her hot dog already on her lips.

  “That’s me,” Taylor replied. She cut some of her pork steak and popped the bite into her mouth. Delicious.

  “Joe tells me you’ve agreed to help him with the book,” Parker continued.

  Mid swallow, Taylor nodded.

  “I like books,” Winnie said.

  “We know you do,” Susie said. “Mouth closed when you chew. We’re working on manners.” She shot Taylor an apologetic smile.

  Winnie closed her mouth with an exaggerated snap, and Taylor stifled a chuckle. Winnie was adorable, around the age Taylor’s niece would have been. At least Evelyn had tried again, and Taylor had an adorable eight-month-old niece. “It’s fine.”

  Susie wiped Winnie’s mouth, and for the first time Taylor could see clearly the scar tissue on the back of Susie’s hands. “So what are your plans for the photos?” Susie asked.

  “Joe and I haven’t talked in detail yet, but my goal is always to make everyone feel comfortable and beautiful. High fashion but with no rough edges. Either on a backdrop or perhaps in a favorite environment. Joe and I have a lot to discuss.”

  Susie pushed her brown bangs off to the side. “Okay, I have no idea what any of that means, but I’d like to be comfortable.”

  “I promise you will be,” Taylor said, meaning every word. She lifted her fork to spear some green beans.

  “She’ll do a good job,” Joe affirmed. “We’re going to talk this week and work out the details. I told you about last night, and how sensitive Taylor was.”

  “You did,” Susie affirmed. “Joe says you’re a good person. He told me about your hospital work.”

  He had? Taylor had no idea how to respond, but luckily, Winnie pulled on her mom’s sleeve. “Mommy. I have to go potty.”

  “Duty calls,” Susie said, beginning to extricate herself from the picnic table.

  Taylor stood, stepped over the bench. “I’ll come with you.”

  Joe arched an eyebrow. She’d hardly touched anything on her plate. “You know that thing about women not able to go alone,” Taylor joked. She joined Susie, who was already hustling Winnie to a nearby restroom.

  Taylor availed herself of the facilities, washed her hands, and waited by the sink as Winnie and Susie finished up in larger, handicapped stall.

  “I didn’t have an accident,” Winnie proudly told Taylor as her mom held her up so she could wash her hands.

  “That’s a big girl,” Taylor replied.

  Winnie grinned widely and waved her hands under the hot-air dryer. “All done, Mommy.”

  On the way back, once they got close enough to the picnic area, Susie allowed Winnie to run on ahead. Taylor used the opportunity to ask the question that had been bothering her. “Are you okay with this?”

  “What do you mean?” Susie asked.

  “The book. The photos. Your brother can be a bit …” Taylor hesitated, trying to find the politically correct word.

  “Bullheaded?” Susie filled in with a laugh. Eyes similar to Joe’s twinkled.

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far. But Joe is pretty determined.”

  “Oh, you’ve just met him. You’ve seen nothing yet. He’s as stubborn as they come.”

  “He did tell me he likes challenges,” Taylor admitted.

  “That’s an understatement. You’re talking about a guy who can complete the crosswords in the New York Times in record time. He’s killer at Sudoku. But back to your original question. I actually think the book is a good idea. People who’ve been burned carry a very visible reminder of a terrible accident. We look in the mirror and see scars. Most people complain about their looks, but many of us struggle to ever see any beauty at all. If your photos can give us a glimpse of that, I’m all for doing this. For once, I want to be out of the shadows and not feel disfigured or think I need to hide my skin so it doesn’t disgust people.”

  Taylor felt her eyes moisten. She blinked. “Thanks for being so honest with me. If I had any residual doubts about this project, you’ve ended them. I’ve got some ideas brewing that I’ll discuss with Joe.”

  “Have you asked him about why this is so passionate to him? Why he’s so determined?”

  The question caught Taylor off guard. “No.”

  “You really should ask him.”

  “He told me a bit about what happened when you were little. That he couldn’t save you.”

  Susie’s brow rose. “Wow. I’m surprised. That’s more than what he normally says.”

  Taylor paused. “There’s more?”

  “He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” Susie said, giving Taylor absolutely no clue to what she meant.

  They were almost back to the picnic area. Winnie was sitting on Parker’s lap and Joe was making silly faces at her. He reached forward and tweaked her nose, and then showed her his thumb tucked between his forefingers as if he’d stolen it. Winnie reached up and touched her nose to make sure it was there, and then laughed.

  “He’s such a great uncle,” Susie said, oblivious to the sudden tumult overtaking Taylor as Winnie reached up and “stole” Joe’s nose.

  Getting personally involved with her clients was not allowed. She needed to close her heart. Listen to her head. Shut out these silly emotions that threatened to disturb her existence. Yet as she rejoined the group at the picnic table and lifted her fork, she realized that any defense system she deployed would be far too little, and far too late.

  Chapter Five

  Taylor looked like she was having fun. As Joe spooned a corner piece of birthday cake through his lips, he allowed his nervousness to fade. She hadn’t run for the hills. He dipped the spoon into the vanilla ice cream and took another bite.

  Across the way, his thirty-two-year-old sister Liz wanted to know if Taylor could do a separate family portrait of her, her husband, and their three kids at a later tim
e. She and Taylor were discussing the logistics.

  “I like her,” Susie said.

  “I’m not planning on dating her,” Joe replied.

  Susie gave him a knowing smile that said gotcha. “Did I say anything about dating? You made that leap and stuck your foot in that admission all by yourself. Thanks for confirming you’ve thought about her beyond photography. Hmm. I wonder what Mom would think?”

  “Damn,” Joe said, setting his empty Captain America plate down. “You’ll keep quiet.”

  “Maybe,” Susie teased.

  “She’s attractive,” Joe admitted. “I’d be blind not to see that.”

  “You’d be a fool not to do anything, especially if you like her,” Susie countered.

  “I like her, but we’re working together. The last thing I want is to have the book derailed by romantic complications.”

  “Sometimes those are the best kind.”

  “Not for me.” He eyed her. “Did you say anything to Taylor?”

  Susie shook her head. “No. It’s not my story to tell.”

  Joe ran a hand through his hair. She’d kept his secret. “Thanks.”

  “You have to forgive yourself sometime, you know,” she told him. “I’ve forgiven you.”

  “Well it’s hard to forget when you’re faced with the daily reminder,” he shot back.

  “You can choose to look at it or look past it. When I finally let go, along came Parker. He sees me, not my scars. And we have Winnie. And”—she paused, leaned closer—“another one’s on the way.”

  A thrill shot through him. “Really? You’re … ?”

  “Almost ten weeks. We’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”

  “What about now?”

  “It’s Ben’s birthday.”

  “He’s four. He’s not going to care.”

  “I don’t want to steal Claire’s thunder.”

  Steve, their brother and Claire’s husband, approached the table. “What are you two talking about?”

  “Susie and Parker have an announcement but they don’t want to steal Ben’s thunder.”

  Eyes so like Susie’s and Joe’s widened in comprehension. “That’s great! Claire won’t mind. Hey, Parker!” he called. “Get over here.”

  Seeing her husband, Claire also came over.

  Taylor followed. She came to stand by Joe, and he liked having her there. Even after just a few hours, she seemed like she belonged. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Parker ambled over. “Yeah?”

  “You need to tell everyone the news,” Steve said.

  “What news?” Claire asked. The light dawned quickly. “Oh my god! Susie! Congrats! This is so exciting!”

  Taylor turned to Joe. “Am I missing something?”

  He realized she couldn’t yet follow the way his family could communicate without words. “Susie’s pregnant.”

  “Oh. Congrats!” Taylor said.

  Soon the entire family was congratulating Susie and Parker, allowing Joe and Taylor to ease back from the crowd. “Exciting,” she said.

  “I’m always ready to be an uncle,” Joe said.

  ‘I know. It’s fun. My sister did try again, and Allie is almost one.”

  “That’s good.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Thanks for coming today. It meant a lot to my mom.” And me, he thought but didn’t voice.

  “You’re welcome. It was a good idea. Not only did you bring me more business, as promised, but I have tons of ideas for your family portrait and, after talking with Susie, no reservations about doing your book.”

  He grinned. Music to his ears. “Great. Shall we make plans? Could we book Friday for the first shoot?”

  “Let me look.” Joe watched as Taylor retrieved her purse and withdrew her calendar. “I can do Friday.”

  “Great. Pencil me in. I’ll line up the first person.”

  “Okay.” She yawned. “Sorry. Long night again, and I have to burn the midnight oil on the photos. My deadline’s Tuesday.”

  Concern filled him. She had work to do. “Why don’t you go home, and we’ll talk later this week? I’m working Tuesday and Wednesday but off after that.”

  “That will work. You clearly proved you can dial a phone and the food and cake weren’t too bad either.” She smiled, and it was like a punch in the gut. He wanted her. Badly.

  “I’ll walk you to your car when you’re ready,” Joe said, trying to maintain a safe distance.

  “I am getting a little sensory overloaded, and I have a lot of work to do.” Taylor agreed. A group of shrieking kids ran past, and almost knocked her over.

  Joe reached out to steady her, drawing her close to his chest where she seemed to fit perfectly. He searched her face, those perfect pink lips far too close to his. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just knocked off balance.”

  Someone whistled. “Get a room you two.”

  “You’re funny, Steve,” Joe yelled to his brother. “How about you control your kids before they knock people over?”

  “Joe. Be nice to your brother.” And before Steve could open his mouth to add something, their mother added, “And Steve, Taylor is our guest. She shouldn’t just be knocked down.”

  “Kids, go play over there,” Joe’s dad shouted, and every grandchild immediately complied. He then went back to cleaning the grill.

  “I’m fine,” Taylor said, smoothing her shorts and smiling at everyone. “No worries here.”

  However, Joe wasn’t fine. Having her pressed against him had disturbed his equilibrium. He’d felt heated—and from far more than the afternoon sun. He’d started to sweat—not the kind that dripped, but the type where wanton skin slicked into silk. A part of him tried to stretch the front of his jeans. He wasn’t a teenage boy, but in that moment he’d felt like one, like the first time he’d held a girl in his arms.

  He needed to get a grip.

  Taylor made the rounds to say her good-byes, receiving hugs and kisses on both cheeks from his parents and from Nana. She accepted each with grace.

  “She’s better than that last woman you dated,” Susie whispered. “The one who only air kissed.”

  “That was …” Joe couldn’t remember. Had it been that long since he’d dated anyone seriously? He’d simply been so busy and, without anyone to capture his interest, there’d been no real point. Steve had done his job to ensure the Marino name would continue, so that responsibility was off Joe’s back.

  “Joe, ready?” Taylor called.

  “Yep.”

  She slung her camera bag and purse over her shoulder, and then they began to walk down the hill to her car, aware that most of his family watched their entire progress.

  “We have an audience,” Joe said.

  She swiveled, glanced over her shoulder, and gave a final, friendly wave. “Your family is sweet.”

  “You saw us on a good day.”

  “No, seriously. We are nowhere near as tight, and it’s a shame. I’m going to need to work on that. What time will everyone leave?”

  Joe glanced at his wristwatch. A little after six thirty. “Probably in another hour. The kids will need baths and then it’ll be bedtime.”

  “True. We always had an early bedtime, which is ironic as now I stay up into the wee hours working.”

  “Try to get some sleep tonight.”

  “I have to get the images done for Virginia. If I fail, I don’t get paid and my mother will insist I live with her. As it is, she has me housesitting her Himalayans for two nights next week so she can help a friend and her friend’s daughter on some cross-county moving adventure. She’s hoping that by having me stay in my childhood bedroom, I’ll be enticed to move back home.”

  They reached her car, and Taylor put her camera in the trunk. She walked around and opened the driver’s door, and pent-up hot air whooshed out. She started the engine, cranked the AC, and then climbed back out, shutting the door and leaning her hip on it. “We’ll let that cool down.”

  �
��Smart idea.”

  She hadn’t put on her sunglasses, so facing west, she held up a hand to shade her eyes. She saw a flicker in his eyes. “Oh no. You’ve had those calls. They weren’t—”

  “One was,” he confirmed, surprised he was sharing with her. “Two-year-old in his car seat.”

  “Oh, Joe.” Her hand came down and touched his arm. He could see tears threaten in her eyes. He shifted, blocking the sun. “I’m so sorry.” She blinked, trying to hold back the flow.

  He crooked a finger, tucked it under her chin. “It’s my job.”

  “I couldn’t do it.” She bit her lip, put both hands on his forearms.

  “But you did last night,” he reminded her. Her touch comforted him, broke through the shell he’d erected around himself. She was dangerous.

  “But I know they can’t be saved.”

  “So do we, before we even get the door open.”

  She shivered as the tears escaped. “How does it not give you a form of PTSD?”

  Any other woman who’d asked him this had met with anger. He was a protector. He didn’t need help. Didn’t need sympathy. Yet, with Taylor, he wanted to talk. Wanted to let her in, no matter how scary the prospect. “Maybe it does,” he admitted. “I’ve found physical activity is the best release. I’m rock climbing tomorrow.” He moved his fingers—wiped her tears away.

  “I’d be afraid I’d fall off,” she said, stopping the sniffles.

  “There are ropes. I’ll take you.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Afraid of heights. Made one attempt at rappelling during Girl Scouts and I was done.”

  “So no jumping out of airplanes either.” He’d diverted her attention, and she laughed.

  “Heck no.”

  “You should probably go before you use all your gas,” Joe said. “It’s cool in there.”

  “Or good enough,” she replied. She lifted her hands, missing the skin-to-skin contact. “Thank you for today. Thank you for the jobs. I feel like I have some egg on my face for being so stubborn about things at first.”

  “It’s part of your charm,” he told her, reaching around her to open the car door. If she didn’t get inside soon, he was going to do something foolish, like kiss her senseless. “We’ll talk this week.”