Picture Perfect

by Thomas, Alessandra

  “How’s your leg feeling these days? Think you’d be up for a hike?” He stroked his thumb against the back of my hand. I hadn’t even realized my other hand was gripping my shin, folded beneath me on the heated seat of the SUV he’d rented.

  “It’s been bugging me a little, but that’s because I haven’t been working out enough.”

  “Too much studio time?”

  “Kind of.” I had been pushing to get my portfolio built up, but that was all he knew. I hadn’t told him about the contest, or about how his architecture-inspired insights had been so influential on my work. Mostly because I wanted it to be a surprise, and a little bit for some other reason I hadn’t quite figured out yet. “So yes. I’d love for you to show me around. Show me everything else, too.”

  “Okay. I’m warning you right now. It’s a hick town—like, a strip mall and a motel and a couple restaurants. Oh, and a casino.”

  “A casino? Fancy.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Hardly. Just a bunch of slot machines and a restaurant that serves mushy pasta and oily mozzarella sticks. And a Holiday Inn attached to it attempting to be fancy. Which, actually…” He dropped my hand to pick up his phone and scroll through the messages, read one, and groaned. “Yep. Mom says that’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

  Something about his half-misery about his small hometown made me laugh. Mostly because it made me think about Dayton, Ohio, where I was from. It was a whole city trying to be upper-class and not quite making it there. Not even really getting close. His mock disdain for it was just one more thing we had in common, just one more thing that made me love him.

  And there it was again, that word creeping into my thoughts, even though I’d tried to focus on things that would chase it away—the fact that we were in college, for one, and that I’d only known him for six weeks. The fact that when we were together we mostly ate and watched TV and had sex. We didn’t have a history besides him being the fat kid at camp and me giving him a pity kiss, even though that was an eternity ago.

  We pulled off the freeway about half an hour later, and the SUV handled the curving hill downward so beautifully that I could completely concentrate on watching the little town unfold before my eyes—a little network of white houses and golden-tipped churches huddled between the mountains and blanketed in mist.

  “Oh, it’s pretty!” I said, smiling and gripping his hand.

  “You think so?” he asked, a bemused smile on his face.

  “Yeah, I do. It’s sweet. Kind of like a storybook. Why all the churches?”

  “Super ethnic town. Lots of Polish and Italian Catholics. They love their churches more than their own houses.”

  My heart panged at that. “Everything in Ohio is flat, and kind of new. Not quite so many roots. More spread out. This is like a fairy tale.”

  “You really like it, huh?”

  “I love it, actually,” I said, looking up and meeting his eyes. His softened, and then he swallowed and cleared his throat.

  “Good. Because no matter how different my mom is and how much I’ve grown up, this will always be home.” He laughed a short laugh, and I squeezed his hand. “My house is…modest. You’ll see. It’s not that awesome, and I don’t know what room Mom will have you in, and—”

  I leaned in to kiss the underside of his jaw, which I knew drove him wild. “Will you be there?” I murmured.

  A rough chuckle rolled up from his throat. “Of course, sweetheart. Anywhere you’ll be.”

  “Then it’s perfect.”

  We wound down through the streets of the small town, whose streets were crammed with tiny white houses, Masoniclodges, a few mom and pop diners, an elementary school and a high school, and churches. Churches everywhere. We pulled into the parking lot of the casino, which actually looked like a huge hotel, were it not for the signs telling us it was a casino. We walked inside, and the whole thing was filled with office-quality carpet and slot machines as far as the eye could see—none of the showgirls or flashing lights or lavish card dealer tables like you saw in the movies about Vegas. The lights weren’t even dimmed. It was just a huge room filled with small-town people with nothing better to do. I couldn’t help but smile. There was something really sweet about the whole thing.

  A girl in a white shirt, tuxedo vest, and black bow tie carrying a tray with a half-empty drink walked up to us and asked, “Can I help you two?”

  Nate’s eyes darted around the room, suddenly wary. I squeezed his hand and smiled at the waitress. “Yes, thanks. We’re looking for the restaurant?”

  “Right this way,” she said, sauntering off to the left. We crossed out of the huge room with the tacky patterned carpet and into a restaurant that looked like half the Italian chain restaurants I’d seen: side wall painted like a faux ancient brick you might see in Italy, if you squinted hard enough, bottles of cheap wine lining the walls, and Sinatra crooning over the speakers. I didn’t know what about it made me grin, but it did.

  Nate looked into my eyes, his expression bemused. “What?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. It reminds me of home, maybe. You have to admit, this is kind of cute. A good attempt, right?”

  Now a grin broke out across his face. “We had like every special dinner growing up here. In the last ten years, this has been the nicest restaurant in town, and we weren’t going to drive down to Philly, so…”

  I stood up on tiptoes to kiss him. “It’s perfect,” I said, and I swear I felt his shoulders relax just standing next to me.

  Just as I was pulling my lips from his, I heard the squeal.

  “Natey!” A woman with huge blonde hair held up with what looked like half a can of hairspray, dramatic purple and blue eyeshadow framed with cat-eye eyeliner, and enough perfume to scent the whole restaurant scurried up to us on four-inch heels. Nate half rolled his eyes, smiled, and said under his breath, “I told you,” before turning and wrapping his arms around his mom’s shoulders and rocking back and forth as he hugged her tight.

  Yeah, my heart swelled about twenty sizes when I saw that, and even a little more when he murmured, “Hey, Ma.”

  Okay, yeah. This was the guy for me. At that moment, I knew, hands down.

  “And this must be Catherine?”

  My stomach jumped. He’d used my full name when he talked to his mom about me? “Uh, yeah.” I blushed. “Cat is fine.”

  “I’m Shelley,” she said, smiling and stretching out her hand, which I shook. She leaned back to look at the two of us, and I stifled a grin when I realized she was wearing acid-washed jeans. Definitely a sweet lady, and definitely a blast from the past. And the bright red press-on nails were a nice touch.

  “Well, he said you were beautiful, but I never would have thought…”

  Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw Nate give her a sharp look and a head shake, but she grabbed my shoulder before I could really look. “I never would have thought you were so stunning. You’re a model in Philly, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I…” I stammered.

  “Yes. She is. Actually, that’s how we met.”

  My jaw dropped. I didn’t plan on talking about nude me at this dinner, but I when I thought about it, it was okay.

  “We’re waiting for someone, right?” Nate asked.

  “Yes, Rich is on his way. But he’s gonna be another fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay, so let’s get a table, and I’ll let Cat tell you all about it.”

  Ten minutes later, we’d gotten drinks and appetizers and I’d laid out the whole story about how Nate and I had met—first in camp, and then with me nude modeling. That felt like an eternity ago, now that I said it out loud. And I only left out one thing—the why. That is, until she asked.

  “So how’d you end up in there, sweetheart?” My mouth dropped open, and I briefly considered telling her the whole sordid tale. She seemed like a lady who would understand, with her obvious attention to keeping up the way she looked. But just as I was about to say some
thing, she waved down the waiter to ask for another glass of wine.

  “Maybe wait until Rich gets here, Ma?” Nate said under his breath.

  “Well maybe I did!” she smiled. “Look, here he comes!”

  A guy in blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a striped button-down shirt came sauntering up to the table. Shelley stood and grinned, scooting out of the booth to wrap her arm around his waist. “Hey, baby.”

  Nate rolled his eyes, and I giggled and elbowed him. “Kids, this is Rich. Rich, baby, this is my handsome son Nate and his even more gorgeous girlfriend, Cat.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” He said, scooting into the booth next to her and flashing a smile. He was handsome, with salt and pepper hair, and a chin dimple. But what really got me was the twang that ran through even the few short syllables he’d said. I could barely keep the amusement out of my voice when I asked, “So, you’re not from here, huh?”

  “No, hon, I’m not. Hard to hide, I guess.” Rich spent the next half hour over appetizers, salads, and drinks for the two of them telling us how he’d come up to work on expanding the casino area, but how he usually worked as a real estate developer in Texas. “I’m trying to get this gorgeous girl to let me take her back there with me,” he finished, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

  Nate’s eyes flared. “Are you serious?”

  His mom gave a little nod and squirm in her seat, like she’d been sitting on the news and just waiting for the right time to pull it out. Nate shook his head, as if maybe he’d just heard wrong. “You guys have been together for…”

  “A year now, Natey.”

  He gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it has been.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Shelley reached across the table to place her hands on his, and Nate yanked back, sliding his arm around my back instead.

  Her face fell, but didn’t lose the relaxed, slightly happy expression. I counted mentally—how many glasses of wine had she had? Four? Yeah, and Rich had had as many glasses of beer to match.

  “We’ll talk about it later. Tomorrow.”

  Rich leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and giggled. “Speaking of tomorrow, is it okay if we see you two then? After dessert, of course. But Rich booked us a room here, and he’s flying back down to Texas tomorrow, so we thought we’d stay here a little longer.”

  Nate just looked at her.

  “I booked us a room. I hope y’all don’t mind.”

  Then, Nate shook his head. “No, no, not at all.” He cleared his throat, looked down, then flagged the waitress. “Could I just get a scotch? On the rocks? And maybe bring us some tiramisu, too.”

  My head darted to the side. Nate never drank. Wouldn’t drink, or so he had told me.

  “Nate, what…”

  “Just one, sweetheart.”

  I didn’t actually have a problem with it. It was just unlike him.

  But when it came, Nate was as normal as ever, nudging the giant plate of tiramisu toward me more often than he attacked it with his own fork, and even offering me a drink of the scotch.

  “Tastes incredible together,” he said, but I wrinkled up my face.

  “Remember the last time I drank?” I said it under my breath, since I didn’t want to have that conversation with his mom and her boyfriend. But they were talking quietly between themselves anyway, lost in their own world. I grinned to myself, and nudged Nate. He hadn’t finished his scotch yet, but I took the last bite of tiramisu, licking my lips and winking at him.

  He definitely sat up at attention when I did that.

  “We should get home, Mom. Cat’s been up since this morning for an early class,” Nate said to his mom, who nodded and smiled.

  “Okay, babe. I’ll be home bright and early so we can start on the pumpkin pie.” She turned to me. “We bake from scratch every year. He’s awesome at rolling the dough.”

  Well, if that wasn’t the sweetest thing I’d ever heard. I might be falling even more in love with him.

  We walked out to the car, and Nate opened my door, as always. There was a wet chill to the November air, but my body buzzed with knowing we were about to be all alone in the house, just the two of us. I was sure he would waste no time warming me up.

  He started the car, then turned to me and took my face in both of his hands. He kissed me hungrily, and the sweet taste of the tiramisu mingled with the faint trace of alcohol left on his breath to something utterly delicious. My entire body was suddenly on edge. “You were incredible,” he said, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind my ear.

  I licked my lower lip, something I knew drove him absolutely wild. “What?” I asked innocently. “I liked her.”

  “Most girls… well, anyway. She loved you.” He backed the car out of its spot, pulled out of the lot, and started down some winding back roads.

  “You okay to drive?” I asked as he picked up speed.

  “With all we had to eat? Totally.”

  He did seem to be in perfect control of the car, so I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of his hand rubbing my knee, then slowly making its way up my thigh. His fingers were so long that they actually made my legs look shapely and cute instead of huge, and almost nothing could make me feel sexier.

  We pulled up a hill and turned onto a little street full of little white houses with small yards. A narrow driveway separated two of them, and we pulled into it, next to a one-and-a-half-story with a flower box in the front and a bluebird painted on the mailbox.

  “Oh my God.” I said, grinning.

  “It’s not much…”

  “It’s absolutely adorable,” I said.

  “Home sweet home.”

  The back had a lattice-framed porch, and I watched his shoulders move even through his thick jacket as he climbed it, getting just high enough to reach over the top and undo a latch. Inside the porch, which looked like it served as a sort of a storage area and mudroom, he reached under an overturned flower pot and pulled out a key. He propped open the screen door and unlocked the house, opening into a small kitchen housing an even smaller eating area.

  “Well, it’s not much, but I’ll show you around…” He started flicking on lights.

  But I couldn’t stand it anymore. I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, spun him around, and plunged my hands inside, gripping at his waist. “Only if we can start with the bedroom,” I said, taking advantage of his surprise to crush my lips against his.

  Half a minute later, our lips were still fused, but we’d both kicked our shoes off and he’d undone my bra and I’d unbuttoned his pants. Something about me was desperate to get my hands on him, and when I did, I was absolutely not sorry.

  He was hard as a rock. And from the way his mouth was devouring my neck, then working its way along the edge of my bra after he hastily unbuttoned my blouse, he hadn’t planned on starting anywhere else.

  I pushed him away, laughing and gasping. “Seriously, though. Take me to bed, before we end up doing it on the table.”

  Mischief flickered in his eyes, and I’d almost never seen anything sexier, including him shirtless. There was something about a guy with that look in his eyes, combined with knowing what that guy could do to drive me absolutely wild, which turned me on like nothing else.

  I hadn’t meant it literally when I said “Take me to bed,” but that’s the way he took it. In an instant, he’d hitched my legs up around his waist, and started walking all one hundred and eighty pounds of me through the dark house with not a grimace or a grunt. We walked through what I thought was probably a living room, turned a tight corner, then he hoisted me up around his waist again. His lips never left mine as we climbed a flight of stairs, then went straight through a door and landed on a free-standing bed, on a plain metal frame in the middle of what was definitely his teenage bedroom.

  It was so dark I could barely see the outline of a dresser holding a TV in one corner, some posters on the walls, and another small door that probably led to a bathroom. The house was warm, and not a sin
gle goosebump erupted on my skin as he tugged my shirt off my arms and laid me back on the soft sheets, his tongue already sliding under the edge of my bra, making me arch my back and whimper and squirm at the sheer pleasure of it.

  I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my jeans, which he’d already somehow unbuttoned, and tugged them down, kicking them off so I could get my legs around his waist again. As soon as I did, I yanked his shirt up so that I could run my hands up over his shoulder muscles. Feeling them flex as his hands tugged my bra away from my breasts, then clutch at my waist as he licked and sucked every inch of them, drove me absolutely wild in a way nothing ever had before.

  He was rock-solid against my leg, and when he finally kicked out of his own pants and he pressed up against me, the only thing I wanted, the only thing I could remember ever wanting, was him inside me, pumping into me, being completely and totally mine. I wanted all of him. Every bit of Nate, every discomfort and every fear I saw in his eyes.

  I pulled his shirt over his head, and he pushed himself to sitting upright to tug in the rest of the way off. His hair stood up every which way, and between that, the hard lines of his torso in the dim light, and the wild flash of wanting in his eyes, I scrambled up to kneel, facing him.

  He stroked the side of my face, kissing around my lips in four different places before diving in again. My fingers threaded back through his hair, clutching it, and he moaned. I almost didn’t notice the sway of my breasts, so much bigger and less perky now than they had been before the accident, before they crushed up against his chest.

  That seemed to set something off in him, because his hands dropped from my face to cup my breasts on either side, and he buried his face between them, kissing each one desperately before sucking one nipple into his mouth, drawing on it so hard that I cried out as the slightly painful pleasure shot through me.