She’d spent the past two days printing wedding pictures … and the nights imagining a variety of calendar poses that would make even Kira blush. Most of those poses required … assistance. She envisioned him tugging her down in front of that fire, rolling her to her back on that fur rug, plunging his hands into her hair, his tongue into her mouth. She’d rise up to meet his thrust … Or she’d roll him over and ride him, the firelight sparking a halo around her red hair, his hips pistoning from the floor, showcasing the lean muscles in his thighs, the cut of muscle in his shoulders and biceps … She could frame him again, and again, and again, and there would never be a bad angle.
The only advantage of it all was that she hadn’t suffered a nightmare in almost a week. Not since he’d kissed her out in the courtyard and distracted her every waking thought. She wasn’t sleeping any more soundly, but if she had to choose, waking in an adrenaline rush caused by dreams of Roan playing his own Highland version of a sexy Santa beat the hell out of the reasons she normally woke up in a hot sweat.
“When’s the deadline?” Kira asked as she bent her head back to the basket she was weaving.
Tessa blinked away images of naked Santa Roan and leaned against the framed entryway to the studio. She and Kira had both risen early. Tessa had been in the dark room since before sunrise, largely due to the very vivid naked Roan dreams she’d been having. When she’d heard Kira rustling about, she’d come out to get her friend’s input on the latest inconvenience. “Two weeks. They’re scheduled to go to press mid-October for an early November delivery. Apparently that’s high season for calendar sales.”
“Makes sense. Holiday shopping.”
Tessa nodded. “The winners each get paid a fee for being included. Roan said all along he planned to funnel any income he derived back into the island economy. His bigger hopes are that the information about Kinloch he’ll include in his bio will drive tourists here.”
“That would be a very Roan thing to do,” Kira said, sounding pleased.
It was on the tip of Tessa’s tongue to ask her a few questions about Roan, just random curiosity stuff. What he’d been like as a kid, how it had really been for him being raised here with no immediate family.
“Being the last man in the calendar is good, I suppose,” Kira said, “Keeps him in the public’s eye longer that way. Unless they don’t read his bit until it’s his turn.”
“Didn’t you hear? Traditionally, Mr. December is always the cover guy.”
Kira grinned and hooted. “Really! I bet that set his knickers into a knot.”
Tessa didn’t rightly know. She’d read the contents of the envelope while Roan was explaining his ideas for marketing, then she’d handed it all off to him and they’d agreed to discuss the photos they needed to take after Graham and Katie returned to allow her to finish their wedding photos. “I’ll admit I’ve enjoyed a few amused smiles picturing his face when he got to that part.”
“You weren’t there? Pity. We might have gotten pictures of the moment.”
Tessa’s smile grew. “Now I wish I’d stuck around. He did tell me he wants to incorporate baskets into the shoot. You do some of the most innovative work on the island, so I told him you’d be happy to let me use your work in the shoot. I hope you don’t mind.”
Kira looked sincerely stunned. “Really? But my work is so … untraditional. Maybe you should stick with samples of what we’ve done for the past couple hundred years instead.”
“I’ll have a sampling. At least that’s my plan. Roan knows all the weavers and I’m sure they’ll be happy to contribute. But I definitely want yours in there. They have the most visual appeal.”
Kira snorted. “Like anyone is going to be looking at the baskets.”
“Again, you have a point,” she said, grinning, “but, hopefully, when they flip the very last page to the bios, they’ll read about Roan’s lifelong work promoting the centuries-old Kinloch craft trade, and they’ll go back to the picture and look at them. When they do, I’d like them to be looking at your work.”
Kira sat back for a moment, but her surprised expression eventually turned to one of satisfied pleasure. “Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that? You’re not going to freak out on me later, or anything, are you?”
“I’ve decided I need to start thinking beyond my four walls here and the den of security I’ve made out of my weaving studio. It’s become a place to hide now.”
“What made you decide that?”
“I’ve thought a lot about our talk, what you said, about my no’ socializing. And Roan’s perception of me as someone who’s not healthy and whole yet.”
Tessa’s regard sharpened at that.
“Dinnae worry, I’ve no’ decided to set my sights on him. He’s all yours.”
Tessa merely gave her a quelling look. “Who says I want him? God knows, you’re healthier and more together than I am. He’s all yours for the taking.”
“Right,” Kira said dryly. “Now who’s living in denial?” She went on before Tessa could reply. “But that whole conversation did get me to thinking, and … maybe it’s time.”
“For?”
“Making my move.”
Tessa’s eyes widened. “Really. Are you going to tell me who the lucky man is?”
Kira laughed. “Oh, I’m not ready to make those kind of moves. I’m just talking about stepping out into the world for more than milk and weaving supplies. And maybe thinking about my weaving as more than just therapy.”
“Roan said you’ve been talking about pushing more innovative designs and incorporating other nontraditional materials.”
“When did he tell you that?”
“When I was trying to convince him to make his move on you.”
“Oh. Well … did he say anything about whether he thought my ideas were good?” She looked so uncertain, which was impossible for Tessa to fathom. Kira had always been the one with a natural direction, she always seemed to know where to step next, even when it was in a direction she hadn’t planned. It was hard to see her so insecure. She’d always been naturally gifted.
“Roan seemed really intrigued by your ideas. Since when don’t you have faith in your own skills?”
“Since I found out I sucked at being a wife,” she said with surprising bluntness. “I thought I was a pretty damn good one. It’s made me question everything.” She held up a hand. “I’m not angling for a pity party, okay? Or a therapy session. I’ve dealt with it—I have—but even putting things in proper perspective, there’s still fallout. As far as I’ve come in reconciling and laying blame where it belongs, there’s still a process I have to go through. With everything, it seems. The more important and secure I should be about something, the more I worry. I don’t want to be wrong again, or unable to see the obvious for what it is.”
“Then I don’t need to tell you that, without even hearing the gritty details of why you and Thomas are no longer man and wife, I can state unequivocally that it wasn’t because you sucked. At anything, especially weaving. Or being a friend. Or anything else you set your mind to.”
Kira looked at her for a long moment, then pushed back from the work table, crossed the small studio to where Tessa hung in the doorway, and hugged her. Tightly.
Tessa immediately hugged her back. It felt good. Grounding. Rejuvenating to her spirit—which made her aware all over again of how bereft of human contact she’d been. And still was. Despite the very human contact she’d had with Roan, it wasn’t something that was part of her daily experience, nor had it been for a long time.
Her therapists had discussed it with her, told her she should get weekly massages, even a pedicure or having her hair washed in a local salon. That seemed ridiculous to Tessa, but they’d assured her it was part of her healing process. It was imperative Tessa get back in touch with herself. To do so, she had to let other people touch her. If she couldn’t handle touching on a personal, intimate level, with friends, family, a lover, whatever, then she could start with
impersonal touching. It took away the risk, the vulnerability, and the obligation to return the favor. But it was an important step.
Tessa had said she would. But she hadn’t. She’d done everything else they’d told her to do, but touching hadn’t seemed a particularly productive use of her time, and she’d never worked it into her schedule. The truth was that it had felt rather pathetic. The only way she could get a little human contact was to pay someone to wash her hair or rub her back?
Standing in the midst of a heartfelt, very personal human contact moment, she was crucially aware that it wasn’t just the warm fuzzies of connecting with a friend that was making an impact on her, but the simplicity of the touch itself. It really didn’t take much to make a difference. So … maybe she should have made time.
Hugging Kira made her feel very alone. Or, at the very least, she recognized the person she’d been when she’d arrived on the island was even more cut off and isolated than she’d realized. She’d tried to deny the truth of it, just as her instinct was to shrug off what she was feeling at the moment. Less risk that way. But she wanted the contact—hugging and being hugged. She wanted friends. She wanted more. She wanted a simple, heartfelt hug, from someone who mattered—and for it not to feel so monumentally abnormal.
Maybe she hadn’t scheduled in the massages and the pedicures for that reason. She’d been afraid of wanting more. She’d been afraid that wanting and needing, but not knowing how to get it, might have pushed her over the edge—possibly right on the massage table. She hadn’t been willing to risk another humbling mortification. She’d been feeling humbled enough, thank you, just going through counseling.
But she had to think about the possibility. Confront it. Deal with it. No longer was it some ambiguous want or need, but a specific one—hard to deny.
Kira stepped back and her cheeks were suspiciously wet. Immediately Tessa felt like a jerk. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” she said. “I was trying to tell you that you’re awesome.”
“You didn’t make me feel bad. You hugged me just now. Tightly. And … it was brilliant. It made me feel great.” She sniffled a little, even as she choked on a bubble of sincere laughter. “It did for you, too, didn’t it?”
Tessa’s shoulders fell a little. Had they both really had it so bad that a hug was like a small miracle? She knew the answer to that, but it was mortifying to have her weaknesses exposed to someone she cared about. It made no sense since the someone she cared about was probably the one person who wouldn’t judge, and could possibly even help. But, it just felt … hard. To feel like a failure in front of the one person she wanted to think well of her. “It did,” she said, a bit horrified to hear the choke in her own throat. She wasn’t going to cry. Not now, not ever if she could help it.
She’d come a very long way in her healing process, but she knew, without a doubt, if she ever let the tears come, she would shatter into a million pieces.
“I need more of that,” she said, trying on the truth, then feeling the overwhelming need to escape. Baby steps, she told herself. She shouldn’t be ashamed if she needed to take baby steps. It was better than no steps. “I’m going to let you get back to work. I need to keep on with the wedding photos. The happy couple is due back late tonight and I want to have a decent sampling to show them.”
If Kira understood her retreat for the escape it really was, she didn’t push it. And for that, Tessa was almost as profoundly grateful as she’d been for the hug.
“Pot roast for supper later. I’ll want to put it on to stew in a bit.” Kira said, smiling warmly. “You’re on vegetable duty.”
“Deal,” Tessa said, already backing out of the doorway. “Just tap on the door when it’s time for me to come out.”
“I will.”
But before she could make a full retreat, there came a tapping on the outside door. She and Kira traded surprised looks. She hadn’t even heard a car or truck.
“I’ll get it,” Kira said. “Go ahead and—”
Hide, was the word that came immediately to Tessa’s mind.
Another rap on the door. “Tessa,” came a voice through the door. “It’s me, Roan. Could you step out for a moment? Or can I come in?”
Kira glanced from Tessa to the front door, and back to Tessa. “Want me to ask him to come back another time?”
Tessa truly did feel ashamed. Clearly Kira thought she was some fragile flower. And maybe she was. But she’d been pretty good at not letting other people see her vulnerability.
“No,” she said, when what she’d wanted to do was fall on the ground in abject gratitude for the save. It was for that very reason that she declined Kira’s offer. “I’ll go talk to him.”
Kira looked sincerely surprised. “You’re sure?”
Anyone else she’d have snapped at for getting too close to the truth. But not Kira. “No, I’ve never been less sure,” she said, going with blunt honesty again. It was a bit less mortifying the second time. “We’re not hiders anymore, right?”
Kira smiled. “No. We’re no’ hiders anymore. We’re bold and we’re out there and we’re no’ taking any prisoners.”
“Badass non-hiders. That’s what we are.”
Kira snickered. “Exactly.”
“Totally.” They both tried to pull that off for another second, then laughed at themselves. “Sadly pathetic, that’s what we really are,” Tessa said, shaking her head.
“Yeah, but no one else has to know.”
Tessa shot her a look over her shoulder. “Right.” Except she knew she would be opening it to the one other person who somehow would know. Lovely.
“I can still tell him to go away.”
“No,” Tessa said, girding herself. “We have to build our asses up to the badness level at some point. But thank you.” She shot her friend a smile. “I’m going to be expecting you to live up to the badass end of the non-hider bargain, so don’t even think about backing down when it’s your turn.”
“Wouldn’t dare.”
“You would totally dare. So, fair warning.”
Kira smiled. “Warning received.” She made a shooing motion with her hand as Roan knocked again.
“Tessa—”
“Don’t get your kilt in a knot, Mr. December,” Tessa called out. “I’m coming.”
“You tell him, badass,” Kira said behind her as Tessa exited the studio.
Tessa smiled at that as she crossed the main room to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob and took a steadying breath. She couldn’t seem to be around the guy without either pouring out her life story or throwing herself at him and shoving her tongue down his throat. She couldn’t keep doing that. Either of those things. He had way too much of an edge over her already, and giving him more pieces of her puzzle was not the way to create a defined space between them. And that’s what she wanted. That’s what she needed.
A defined space between them that would allow her to figure out what she wanted to do next where he was concerned.
She opened the door. He grinned at the sight of her, the full dimple treatment. And her heart fluttered.
Yeah. That wasn’t a good sign.
She put her hand on the frame, blocking entry. “Why are you here at the crack of dawn, banging on the door?”
Her attitude didn’t so much as make him blink. If anything, an amused twinkle lit his green eyes. “I’m on to you, you know,” he said, as if he’d been reading her mind. She wasn’t entirely sure he couldn’t.
“Goodie. We’re trying to work. In peace and quiet.”
“I came in peace. And I can be quiet, if given proper motivation.”
Then he did something that shocked her as much as it had the first time he’d done it. He leaned right in and kissed her. Had she guessed he’d even been thinking about it, surely she’d have blocked him. Surely.
Instead, he’d just moved in and kissed her. Just like that. Before she could gather her wits, he slid his hand under her hair and cupped her neck, pulling her mout
h that much more intimately beneath his.
She blamed her lack of fight on being blindsided. Well, that and having spent the past two nights imagining him in various Mr. December poses. All of them requiring him to be naked. Any red-blooded woman would have responded. Right?
“Kiss me back, Tessa.”
She shouldn’t. What she should do was knee him. Make it perfectly clear in the most painful way possible that he didn’t just get to lean in and kiss her. Not without her permission. Until further notice, she needed to make it clear she was off limits to him, to his charm, and most definitely his hands and mouth.
But was that what a badass non-hider would do?
Was she making space, setting ground rules? Or was it another form of her ducking and hiding? He said he was on to her. He knew she’d retreat if given half a chance. So maybe what a badass non-hider would do was give him what he wanted. But on her terms. He wanted her to kiss him back? Look out. She gripped his face and attempted to do just that and take control of the kiss.
But he was having none of that.
To her shock, he tugged her into his arms, pulled the door shut behind her, then pinned her up against it. “I didn’t say take over. Or make it about lust. Kiss me, Tessa.”
“What gave you the impression I wanted you to come barging in here and shove your tongue in my mouth?”
He leaned in and kissed her chin. Then he kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead. Each kiss was impossibly sweet. “I’m no’ barging. And my tongue hasn’t been at all involved. Yet. I’m merely kissing ye. It’s fun. Try it with me.”
“Don’t patronize me,” she said, but he kept up the gentle assault, and it was hard to maintain any sense of outrage. Especially when she wasn’t shoving him off of her, and her body was wanting to go all pliant and warm.
“Kiss me back, Tessa,” he urged her again. The plea was playful, but there was a tension in his body. His hard body. Pinning hers to the door.
He was confusing her. She didn’t understand how to combat that kind of attack on her defenses. She didn’t want to be any more vulnerable to him than she already was. But the other truth was … she did want to kiss him back. So much so that it simply couldn’t be wise for her to give in to the desire.
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