Her own heart was beating loudly in her ears and she couldn’t hear anything but the dull drum and the shrill snare as it pounded out a string of notes she hardly recognized.
Eventually, she glanced up and Isaac’s eyes fell down on her.
He looked at her mouth, staring at her lips for a second before he met her eyes again, the bluest of tropical oceans mixing together with the richest of dark, deep earth.
God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly it made his neck ache and his eyes water.
Olivia watched Isaac’s throat slid up and down beneath his scarred skin. His lips were softly parted. His nostrils flared, and for a split second Olivia thought they were thinking the very same thing.
But as she watched him, she saw regret, or maybe it was doubt, wash gradually over his face—uncertainty, indecision—and then his hands flew up to his stomach and he grabbed Olivia’s fingers in a tight grip—held them there pressed against his body for a few seconds more—before he removed them from under his shirt and stumbled backward toward the bathroom door.
“I should go,” he said. He swore beneath his breath, gripping his hair with both hands. “You’ll be okay. It’s not that bad. I have to go.”
“Why?”
“I have things to do.” Isaac shook his head, beseechingly.
“Like what?”
“I need… I need, uh… to run.” He pushed his fingers back through his hair so that it was completely off his face. “I need to run.”
Rejection warped Olivia’s thinking, it wrapped itself around her heart and then squeezed so tight she thought she might pass out. She felt her voice catch and tears stung her eyes. She didn’t want Isaac to see that she was upset. She wanted to stay strong, stay silent, but the words fell from her lips, making her feel small and desperate instead.
“Don’t leave.”
Isaac’s reply took a long time coming, his expression tormented and strained as if he was angry at himself, or maybe he was angry at Olivia. He wasn’t sure of himself, he wasn’t sure of anything.
“I can’t. I have to go.”
And then Olivia stood slowly on shaky legs as she watched Isaac turn and leave the bathroom without looking back at her. He rushed down the hallway and then she heard the front door slam shut. It was as if Isaac wanted, or needed, to be anywhere else right there in that moment, but in that bathroom with her.
And it hurt.
God, it hurt.
Olivia dressed for church the following morning with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was embarrassed that she’d made the first move. A move that Isaac clearly didn’t want to counter with one of his own.
Maybe people were right?
Isaac Stone was a hard nut to crack. He was different to everyone else. He was a loner and he preferred it that way. Olivia wondered if she should just leave him alone. It was probably easier. Less pain. Less heartbreak.
But wasn’t living a life without taking chances like living no life at all?
Olivia sighed and moved slowly around her bedroom. She couldn’t seem to motivate herself and all she really wanted to do was crawl back into bed and forget last night happened at all.
Eventually, she dressed in her favorite knee-high black boots, her long green skirt and a black turtle-neck sweater that accentuated her curves nicely, and then grabbed her coat as she locked up the house and headed for her car, without once bothering to look over at the Stone residence.
Isaac didn’t go to church, so at least that afforded her an hour or more of uninterrupted time to think things through, especially if Reverend Rayleigh’s sermon went off on one of his famous tangents. The man could talk underwater with a mouth full of rocks sometimes. Olivia hoped today was one of those times.
The small stone church was filling up fast by the time she parked her car in the lot behind the hall. She hurried across the snow-covered lawn, trying desperately not to slip and fall, moving around the garden beds that separated the two buildings; nodding politely to the few last stragglers who were still making their way inside.
A rustling in the bushes caught Olivia’s attention and she turned quickly, slightly on edge now that Kyle Mason was suddenly so interested in her whereabouts.
“Hey, it’s just me,” Isaac whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He stepped out from behind the shrub and Olivia’s heart hurtled forward as her resolve pulled back.
Isaac was dressed in blue jeans and a dark gray jacket. The button-down white shirt he wore beneath the jacket was starched, fresh and clean and he smelt like he was wearing after shave.
But he definitely hadn’t shaved.
His beard was neater than normal, but it still hid most of his face, his long hair doing its best to hide what his short beard could not.
“Ditch church today,” he said quietly, his eyes bouncing around nervously. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
He obviously didn’t want to be seen, and Olivia had never before felt more seen. Her cheeks heated, and her lips tingled when his eyes bore into hers, practically begging her for something she didn’t have a name for.
“Please?”
Isaac held out his hand and Olivia took it, and without pause, not even a flicker of apprehension, not even a second thought of the way she’d felt when he’d left her so abruptly the night before, she eyed his shiny black truck hungrily and followed him across the parking lot toward the back of the hardware store.
Other than a few flimsy snowflakes tumbling over each other in the chilly breeze, Woodlake was experiencing a perfect winter day. The temperature was mild in comparison to the plummeting mercury of the days prior, and the sun had even made an unexpected appearance from behind the fluffy white clouds.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Isaac held the truck door open for her. He held her hand tighter, helping her up into the passenger seat.
“You know you don’t have to do that,” she added quickly. “It’s very sweet, but the year isn’t eighteen-twenty-nine.”
Isaac shrugged. “Maybe it should be.”
“Why?”
“I get the feeling people had more respect for one another in those days. Ladies were treated as such, and men knew how to keep out of other men’s business.”
“You still thinking about those boys at the gas station?”
“Hard not to,” Isaac replied, jogging around the front of the truck, before climbing in behind the steering wheel. “I want to take you somewhere. Do you trust me?”
Olivia nodded.
“You asked me what I did when everyone else was in church.” Isaac yanked the heavy door closed behind him. He cranked the engine and then they were off, headed west across town toward the tall buildings on the opposite side of Main Street. “I’d like to show you.”
Olivia wasn’t sure where they were going, or what Isaac planned on showing her once they got there, but she didn’t care. He was opening up to her, revealing a part of himself to her, and as it was, she would have followed him to the town dump if that’s where he spent his spare time while the rest of Woodlake was in worship. Olivia loved cookies, and Isaac had just thrown her a crumb.
“How’s your hand?” he asked as he drove.
“It’s okay, a little sore. But I’ll survive.”
“Did you sleep?”
“No. Not really.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor. It might be infected.”
“It’s not. That isn’t why I couldn’t sleep.”
Isaac nodded, but kept his eyes firmly on the road.
“You’re dressed up,” said Olivia, glancing across at him, ignoring the blush in her cheeks and the awkwardness that came with chasing something that obviously didn’t want to be caught. “You look nice.”
“So do you. Look nice.”
“Well yes, but I was actually going to church. I always get dressed up for church. You on the other hand, I’ve never seen you in anything other than a flannel shirt and dusty w
ork boots. Like I said, you look, nice.”
Olivia wasn’t sure, but she thought she noticed Isaac’s breath hitch slightly. He didn’t say anything else as they drove, but the easy silence was filled by the whooshing sounds of passing buildings and the chilly breeze blowing through the open window.
A few minutes later, he steered the truck around the back of a group of abandoned buildings and parked in the empty parking lot behind them. It was the back of the old Glenrock Theatre and Olivia blinked as she looked up at the rusty sign hanging by a few spindly nails from the second story.
The Glenrock hadn’t been in use in years, as far as Olivia could remember—not since the big multi-movie theater opened up over in Cedar Grove, about an hour out of Woodlake.
“What are we doing here?”
Olivia jumped out of the truck and met Isaac near the bonnet, both of them staring straight ahead at the tightly padlocked door in front of them.
“Is this where you’re taking me?” she asked, looking around. They were in broad daylight, she wasn’t afraid. But there wasn’t another soul around for miles and she wondered what would happen if Isaac decided now was the time to get lost for a while.
“Come on.”
Isaac grabbed Olivia’s hand again, as if it was just the most natural thing in the world. As if they’d done it a hundred times before. He walked her toward the door and then paused, hesitating ever so slightly, before he reached through a small slat at the very top, a tiny space where the faded timber frame met a thin panel of stained glass.
He jiggled his fingers around for a few seconds and then pulled down a key.
“Eleanor worked here, before it closed down. She worked the late shift, after school finished and she was done teaching.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“She used to let me come here when I was younger. On weekends. She taught me how to run the reel and switch the lights. Sometimes she’d stay here with me and we’d talk a while. Other times, she’d leave and let me have the place to myself.” Isaac smiled his half-crooked smile. “Eleanor reckoned she learned more about people here in this theater than she did anywhere else. You’d be surprised the stories she told me. People forget when the lights go out that there’s still someone sitting upstairs, watching everything they do. Eleanor said she heard every word, and saw things that would make your eyes pop. That woman didn’t miss a trick.”
He used the key to unlock the pad, letting the chain fall to one side, and then he pushed the door open with a screech. “Here, this way.”
Olivia stepped over a timber pallet blocking the entrance, and a pile of firmly packed snow that bordered the entire building.
She walked through the doorway, into what had once been the grand foyer of the most magnificent building in the entire town.
The air was thick with dust, and the entire place smelt like antique wood, furniture polish and stale popcorn, but there was no denying that there was a still an air of sophistication about the place.
Ornate ceilings and chandeliers hung overhead, and the marble floor was dull and lifeless in comparison to the highly polished floors Olivia remembered from her childhood.
“Wow,” she gushed, her eyes taking in everything at once. “This place is incredible.” She looked back over her shoulder at Isaac. “I’ve only been here a few times, when I was a teenager. By the time I was old enough to really come by myself, the place had closed down. It’s stunning.”
“That it is.”
Olivia turned in one full circle, keeping her fingers linked with Isaac’s so that now they were all twisted up, and Isaac didn’t even try and pull away from her.
That was something right there.
A small, triumphant smile crept across her face. “This is where you go when the rest of the town is in church? To the movies?”
He nodded shyly. “Yes.”
“Every week?”
“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.” Isaac suddenly released Olivia’s hand and turned away from her, climbing a steep flight of stairs to the left. “Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said, before disappearing from sight.
A few moments of silence passed, and then the soft stirrings of music could be heard coming from inside the actual theater. Light seeped from beneath the double doors and Olivia found herself moving closer.
“Isaac?” she called, half whispering.
“I’m right here.” Isaac appeared again just as quickly as he’d disappeared. “Let’s go. The show’s started and the beginning is my favorite part.”
Olivia shot him a surprised look as they stepped through the fancy ornate doors to the theater; the enormous black-and-white screen on the far wall filled with the beautiful faces of men in tuxedos and glamorous woman wearing flowing gowns, dancing. The house lights were off, the aisle lined with tiny white lights.
But Isaac didn’t walk very far down the aisle.
Instead, he stopped about four or five rows down, and then stepped back to allow Olivia through first—always the gentleman—before he slid in, taking a seat in the middle of the row.
“This is the perfect seat,” he said. “Not too close. Not too far away. And just the right amount of leg room.”
He sat back in the seat, bent his knees up and then stretched his long legs out; taking advantage of the fact there was no one else in the entire theater.
He shoved his feet between the empty seats, his polished tan shoes sitting on the armrests in front of him.
Olivia fake-gasped. “You rebel!”
“Be quiet. We’re missing the best part.”
The credits rolled and Olivia sat completely still in her seat, her eyes glued to the fading screen.
Isaac wasn’t watching the screen, and Olivia knew it. She’d felt his eyes on her many times throughout the movie, and he’d looked away quickly when she’d turned her head.
But this time he wasn’t looking away.
His dark gaze glued her to the red velvet chair and her head felt heavy, lolling to one side when she sensed the hard length of his muscled shoulder leaning into her.
“Well?” he whispered softly.
Though Isaac already knew the answer. He’d caught the way Olivia’s breath had escalated in the fight scene, and the way her eyes had lit up during the love scenes. Her face was touched with the silver glow of the screen, the blonde of her hair and the bright blue of her eyes indiscernible in the blanketing of pale light.
Olivia was too caught up in the upsurge of the final score to answer Isaac. A deep well of emotion washed through her, rumbling across her chest, making her weepy. She wasn’t sure where the feeling came from, but she didn’t push it away. She let it come instead, and she felt things with a rawness she’d never experienced before.
“That was… was… magnificent,” she eventually whispered on a shaky breath, swiveling in her seat so that she was facing Isaac.
He’d deliberately sat on her right side, so that his scars were hidden slightly and his left side was facing Olivia. She noticed him pull away, but it was just a minuscule movement—one born from instinct and habit she figured—and then he was back again, looking at her with hope in his dark eyes that she caught in the intermittent bursts of light as the actor’s names scrolled up the screen.
“Why do you always wear your hair up?” he asked.
Olivia blinked.
She stared back at Isaac, surprised by his words. They’d come out of nowhere, and she wasn’t sure why. Didn’t he like the way she looked with her hair up? She’d always thought her features were too sharp, her nose too pointy and her neck too long. Maybe Isaac agreed.
“Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking,” he said mildly. “You have lovely hair, that’s all. I was just wondering why you always wear it up.”
“Why do you always wear yours down?”
Isaac didn’t know what to say. She had him there. “It gives me someplace safe to hide.” He closed his eyes; rubbing is brow with his thumb. “Shit. That sounds
pathetic, even to me.”
The last credits rolled in silence and then the movie ended, darkness falling over them like a thick blanket. The aisle lights were all that remained, the sound of the reel flicking over and over again, a backdrop to the silence.
“It’s dark in here, Isaac. But I’m not scared with you sitting next to me. You shouldn’t be scared either. There’s nothing to hide from. No one can see you…” Olivia took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She’d come this far, what did she have to lose. This was her chance, to take a chance. And so she did. “No one can see you, except me. And I want to see you, Isaac. I want to see you in a way no one else gets to see you. You asked me if I trusted you earlier. Do you trust me?”
Isaac was taken aback by Olivia’s honesty, but he found himself nodding. He did trust her. It felt wrong to admit it. But he did, and despite the way he’d walked away from her the night before, he knew for certain now that he wanted more. He’d walked home from her house in a hazy fog, one that he hardly remembered. But what he did remember was the horrible way it felt to turn his back on Olivia Parker.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
“Yes. I trust you.”
Isaac watched Olivia slowly lift her hands behind her head and wiggle the elastic band free from her hair. Thick mounds of golden locks fell around her shoulders, the softly curled ends trickling down across her pretty breasts. Isaac might not have been very experienced when it came to women, but he’d definitely noticed her breasts. And they were very pretty.
Olivia pulled herself up onto her knees in the seat, her skirt falling to one side over her tall boots. “Keep still.” Her voice was gentle but her eyes were adamant, a command that Isaac didn’t dare disobey, and he forgot about everything else. Her hands moved slowly toward him, and then her fingers slid into the longs strands of hair at the base of his neck. “I’ll leave my hair down, if you wear your hair up.”
The Winter Before Page 13