Picture This

by T. M. Cromer

  Back in his hotel room, Royce made love to her as if she were precious to him. As if he never wanted to let her go. Each languid kiss, each sensual caress, each slow, deep thrust, brought her to tears with the beauty of their lovemaking.

  As they came together, she could no longer hold back her feelings.

  “I love you,” she whispered. Those three words were the most honest she’d ever uttered.

  She hadn’t expected him to pull away and sit up. He hung his head, not saying anything in return. Heart hammering, she knelt behind him and placed her hand flat against his spine. “Royce?”

  “I thought you knew, Hope. I never intended to stay. My job is in New York,” his words were soft, full of apology. “I’m supposed fly home tomorrow.”

  He half turned to gage her response.

  If he’d hauled off and slapped her across the face, she’d have been less surprised. How had she not seen this coming? Had she really believed he’d dump everything to move here? For her? When had anyone ever sacrificed anything on her behalf? Never.

  It was as if she’d run a marathon. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest and breathing became labored. The sting of salty tears burned behind her lids, and all she could do was close her eyes in an attempt to hide how much his words tore at her soul. She’d thought he’d been tumbling into love right along with her. She’d fallen so hard. So fast. God, it hurt to breathe. Her nose clogged, and it would be mere seconds before her distress was obvious.

  Casual. She need to convince Royce she’d only ever believed this to be as casual as he had. Her mouth opened twice, and twice she swallowed. Casual wouldn’t come. Not when she wanted to rage. The problem was that he’d never truly led her on. Never promised forever. Never even said those pesky three words she wanted so desperately to hear.

  Instead she patted his back and smiled. She hoped it appeared serene, or at the very least, sincere. “Of course,” she finally managed. Her only hope was that he would take it at face value.

  Silence reigned. The air had become heavy with regrets - definitely hers, possibly his. The need to be away from him, from this suffocating pain, overwhelmed her. Made it impossible to continue to lay beside him, pretending to be okay with this whole situation.

  “Oh crap! What time is it? I forgot I have to get the last of the photos in for the catalog. The deadline is tomorrow morning.”

  She hadn’t necessarily lied. Preliminary ads needed to get to the printer by eleven-thirty. They’d already been put aside for publication. She only needed to run the last of them by her family for approval. However, he didn’t need to know that.

  Perhaps Royce recognized the lie for what it was. It wasn’t as if she were a great actress or anything. She could feel his intense stare on her back as she gathered up her clothes. Regardless, he didn’t argue for her staying the night like he’d done over the past few weeks. That hurt.

  Hope closed herself in the bathroom and leaned against the door. Again, the moisture burned behind her lids. And again, she refused to shed the tears. Looking at the ceiling and blinking rapidly helped, as did the deep inhalations and exhalations.

  Turning on the faucet, she doused her skin with cold water. She only had to hold it together for another fifteen minutes. Just long enough to get out the door and home. She dressed hurriedly and finger combed her hair. A check of the mirror showed a pale complexion. That wouldn’t do for a California girl. It’d be a tell-tale sign that something was wrong. A pinch of her cheeks had her looking somewhat normal. Another deep inhale and she opened the door.

  Royce stood on the other side, as serious as she’d ever seen him. Regret written all over him. He’d most probably gotten a glimpse of her shattered soul, but she was quick to paste on a smile.

  “Are we good?”

  “Yes,” she lied. She must be getting better at falsehoods because he flashed a sunny smile and hugged her tight. A slight twist of her head put her nose in the crook of his neck. His smell soothed her and she allowed the embrace to continue, trying to draw strength from him.

  Reluctantly, she pulled back. “I have to go.”

  “Can I see you again before I leave tomorrow?”

  She wanted to say yes, but the wiser course of action was to end it now. Seeing him walk away would kill her. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Hope, if I led—”

  “You didn’t,” she said brightly. “We’re good. I really do have to run, Royce.”

  “Maybe you could come visit me in New York?”

  Whether the offer was legit or not, she couldn’t tell. Possibly he was trying to ease some of the awkwardness. The only cure for awkward was to get the hell out of Dodge. “Goodbye, Royce. Have a safe flight.”

  “That’s it. ‘Goodbye, Royce. Have a safe flight?’ That’s the way you intend to leave this?” he asked, a deep frown pulling at his brow.

  There was no true explanation for his anger. Suddenly, it seemed as if she were standing on quicksand. She was going under with no handholds in sight. The harder she struggled to stay above ground, the faster she was being sucked down.

  “What would you prefer me to say?” she asked. Keep moving. Keep breathing. If she could manage those actions, she’d be okay. She shifted to sweep up her purse and shoes when he grabbed her about the waist and spun her back to face him.

  “Anything but that,” he said gruffly.

  Hope rested her forehead against his chest directly over his heart. She imagined she felt his heart hammering, but it was most likely the pounding of her own head from the tension building.

  “Anything but that,” he repeated more softly.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered.

  “Better,” he murmured and tipped her head up.

  Time stopped as they stared at one another. His head dipped and ever so gently he touched his lips to hers. “I’m going to miss you too.”

  Her heart stuttered and her throat closed on what she truly wanted to say.

  He was the first to pull away, and it was a good thing because she didn’t have the strength left to do so. Her legs refused to support her any longer, and she plopped down on the edge of the bed. To hide her weakness, she made a show of putting on her heels.

  The ringing of her cell phone was a welcome distraction. Whipping it out, she checked the screen and saw it was Tony. Concern gripped her. He wouldn’t be calling this late unless there was a true emergency. She swiped to answer.

  “Tony? What’s up?”

  “Hope, it’s mom. We think she’s had a heart attack. Val brought her into the ER about five minutes ago. We’re running tests now. How soon can you get here?”

  “I’m on my way,” she said and was heading out the door before the words cleared her mouth.

  The door slammed behind her, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t explained to Royce her sudden exit. A second slamming of the hotel door caught her attention as she was entering the elevator. She glanced back toward his room as the elevator doors started to shut. Royce’s hand darted forward, stopping them from closing. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Royce—”

  “You wouldn’t leave like that if it wasn’t serious. Look at yourself. You’re a wreck. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.” His tone brooked no argument.

  “It’s not necessary. I’m sure you have plenty to do before your trip home.”

  “Screw that. Your wellbeing is more important.”

  Panic flared to life, sparking her temper. “My mother’s in the ER. I have to go.”

  “Hope.”

  The understanding and kindness in his voice brought the flood of tears she’d been fighting since he’d said he was going back home. The hurt, the loss, the fear for her mother - it was all too much. The sobs started as silent hiccups. Soon she was doing the big ugly: tears, snot, and babbling. Strong, warm arms came around her to pull her close, and the elevator dinged to indicate they’d reached the lobby.

  Royce tucked her close and guided her out th
e main entrance to the hotel.

  “Where’d you park, babe?”

  Hope lifted her hand in a weak gesture to the left. He grabbed her flapping hand and pulled her in the direction she’d indicated. When he located her car, he took her keys and helped her into the passenger seat. Before she could gather her wits, they were parking again and rushing to find her brothers.

  As he waited for news of Isabella’s condition by himself in the visitor’s lounge, Royce played the night’s events over and over in his mind.

  She loved him. He didn’t take it as lightly as she’d thought. When she’d gone into the bathroom to hide, he’d felt like a complete shit. Shock had propelled him up and away. Not because he was rejecting her, as she had suspected. But because he’d been poleaxed. And when she’d touched his back, as if to comfort him, as if she’d been the one to make the mistake by confessing her feelings, he’d turned and saw the pain in her eyes for what it was. Devastation in the belief he didn’t love her.

  A crushing weight had settled upon him. He was at a loss as to how to get out from under it. If he told her now that he cared about her, she would think he wasn’t being truthful. That he was saying it to assuage her hurt. In the end, it didn’t matter. He still lived in New York, and she lived here. Hadn’t Val and Ashley lived through the same situation? They hadn’t come out unscathed. Long distance relationships didn’t work. It was a well-known fact.

  Add to that her mother’s trip to the hospital, and the night was a complete disaster. Their leisurely day, topped with incredible sex, had disintegrated in less than five minutes. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her drive in the state she’d been in. That autopilot state, he remembered well from when his own parents had died. He’d been reserved with his feelings in the five years since their accident. Playing it safe at every turn. Refusing to care.

  But somehow, someway, Hope had knocked down all his barriers, without even trying. Christ, he was in a pickle. The first person he truly cared about in years, and he’d just lit the match to burn the bridge.

  She’d assured him that he hadn’t led her on. But she’d lied. They both knew he’d been relentless in his pursuit of her. The truth was, he would pursue her still from behind his desk in New York. He’d already planned on how he would send her flowers, daffodils in every color, and arrange business trips around her free time so he could fly out and stay with her.

  He’d only seen her old Victorian house that one night, but in the nine hours he spent there, he’d been more comfortable than in his high-rise apartment in the city.

  Tony came out to inform him Hope said he should go home.

  “How is she?” Royce asked.

  “It was only a mild heart attack. She was lucky Val and Ashley were there when it happened.”

  “Ashley was there?” He hadn’t spared her a thought since filming for the final commercial wrapped yesterday. Some friend.

  “Yes, she’s in with my family now.”

  Royce nodded numbly. “I’d like to speak with Hope before I go.”

  Tony was silent, and Royce suspected he was trying to form the words to tell him to get lost in a tactful way.

  Finally he nodded. “Okay.”

  “Thank you, Tony.”

  A slight tightening of the other man’s mouth was all the acknowledgement he got.

  One minute rolled into two, then ten, and then twenty. Royce was about to give up on the idea of Hope coming out when she pushed open the double doors.

  God, she was beautiful. And he was a fucking idiot to leave.

  “Tony said you wanted to see me.”

  Her words and eyes were bland, as if he were a stranger she was forced to be polite to. He opened his mouth and closed it again. All the things he wanted to say, the feelings he wanted to explain, bottled up in his throat.

  So instead of speaking, he kissed her. Both hands cupping her jaw, pouring everything in his heart into that one kiss. Her mouth softened, opened to accept him and responded in kind. When they came up for air, he rested his brow against hers.

  “I know you can’t right now, but when your mom’s better, come to New York,” he said, his voice ragged and raw.

  “I can’t, Royce. I—”

  He cut her off by pressing a hard kiss on her lips. “Tell me you’ll at least think about it. Promise me you will.”

  At her nod, he pulled back to check for the truth in her sad, mocha eyes. And that truth was that he’d be disappointed if he ever thought she’d come. Her intention was clear. Putting on the best face possible, he rubbed his thumb lightly over her moist, lower lip.

  “This has been the best two weeks of my life. I owe it all to you, Hope.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, burning the back of his hand. He gently wiped them away.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  If his own eyes were damp as he strolled out the ER doors, well, it couldn’t be helped.

  Chapter 9

  Six weeks later…

  “Have dinner with me?”

  Hope looked up from her desk to stare at the hopeful man standing in her doorway.

  “Fine.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she said with a resigned laugh, putting down the final proofs for the catalog. She’d finished for the day, and all that was left was for her to shoot off an email to give the go-ahead. Since it was after six, the printers would be closed for the evening. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the approval. Besides, the rest of the family and vineyard staff had cut out about an hour ago.

  She grabbed her sweater off the back of her office chair. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “The Sweet and Savory Bistro?”

  Hope experienced a pang. Would she ever be able to eat there without remembering what her and Royce had done after those eclairs had been delivered to his hotel room? Probably not.

  Putting on a bright smile, she let Coby precede her out the door and locked up.

  “I’ll follow you there.”

  “We can drop your car by your place and go from there,” he suggested.

  “That works too.”

  The hand he placed at the base of her spine didn’t send the warm zing through her as Royce’s had. And last week, when Coby had been so bold as to kiss her after their first date, Hope had felt nothing. She’d spent the rest of the evening at home. Alone and feeling sorry for herself. The crying started about five minutes after she’d said goodnight and shut the door. She then proceeded to consume a whole bottle of wine on the floor in front of her fireplace.

  Because she called in sick to work the very next day, suffering the world’s nastiest hangover, her mother had sent Tony to check on her. While he promised not to inform on her to their mother, had actually agreed to lie and say it was a twenty-four hour stomach flu, he hadn’t let her live it down. He teased her every chance he got.

  As she opened her car door to get into her vehicle, a text rang through.

  “You look like you need saving.”

  Royce! Her head came up, and she scanned the immediate area around her. Seeing nothing, she shook her head. Again, her phone pinged.

  “You aren’t doing him any favors by not coming right out and telling him you don’t want a relationship.”

  Hope froze in place, heart pounding. Those were the exact words he’d told her the first time he witnessed Coby ask her out.

  “Hope? You all right?” Coby asked, coming up beside her.

  Her distress was obvious to anyone with eyes.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I…” Royce was right. Then and now. It was time to break it to Coby that she wasn’t interested.

  She closed her eyes, uncomfortable with hurting him. Having recently experienced how painful rejection could be, she was loath to inflict it on him.

  “It’s never going to happen between us, is it, Hope?”

  “I’m sorry, Coby. Truly.” And she was. Coby was one of the nicest men she’d every known.

&nbs
p; “Does this have anything to do with the New York guy arriving back in town today?”

  Her jaw dropped in shock.

  “I guess you didn’t know,” he mumbled.

  “Not until about one minute ago,” she confirmed. She lifted her phone to indicate the news source. “But thanks for giving me a heads up.”

  Her sarcasm was not lost.

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  Her phone pinged again, indicating another text. This time she ignored it. Two more pings came in rapid succession, and she lifted her middle finger to the night and spun in a circle.

  What she hadn’t expected was the burst of laughter from Royce being echoed by Coby. “Dude, seriously? Shouldn’t you be arresting him for being a peeping Tom or something?”

  Her temper had kicked into high gear.

  “But I brought you eclairs, babe.”

  She spun around, and there he was, pastry box in one hand, daffodils in the other. Looking more gorgeous than she’d ever seen him - tired, but gorgeous. Hope stormed to where he stood, snatched the flowers from his hand, and threw them on the ground. Her next move was to grab the box of pastries and sock him in the gut.

  “Uh, Hope, you know that’s assault right?”

  “Really, Captain-not-so-obvious? Really?”

  “Officer, I want her in cuffs,” Royce panted, bent double “In room number 204, if you can manage it.”

  Eyes narrowed, she charged him. He ducked around the tail end of her car, careful to keep the vehicle between them. “Do you want another broken limb?”

  “You kids have fun with your little mating ritual. I’m heading down to the Spigot.” Coby’s words brought them both up short. Just before getting into his car, he gave Hope a long look, then winked. Her heart lightened to know he’d have no long lasting effects from her rejection. “Make sure you put on some of that strawberry flavored lipgloss that tastes so good.”