Love Me: The Complete Series (76 page)

He hadn’t thought of that. “Isn’t it like riding a bicycle? You never forget. It’s not that far.” He stuck his foot up and hoisted himself toward the first limb. Grasping hold, he reached above and shoved to the next spot.

She lifted a hand to shield her face and squinted into the light behind the tree. The soft pink of the clouded sun added an iridescent quality to her skin. He wanted to snap a few shots of her, but knew she’d have a fit. Roger braced against the trunk and reached down. He wiggled his fingers. “Okay, pass it up here.”

Caroline lifted the camera to his outstretched hand. He caught her eyes for a second, and the pink light cast a neon flicker across her irises. “You look beautiful.”

She didn’t look away, nor did she pull her hand free. For two seconds, he had her locked with him as the sun sparkled its early light upon them. She blinked. “You’re losing your shot. If you don’t hurry up, it’ll be too late. You’ll miss your chance.” She nodded toward the horizon.

He stayed focused on her eyes. To him, her words meant something else. They meant a different chance, a different shot. “Is it too late, Caroline? Have I missed my shot?”

Moment over. The lines of her throat and neck lunged as she swallowed. “You know better than I. You’re the artist.”

He wasn’t an artist. “That’s a laugh. I wouldn’t call those old snapshots art. And you know that wasn’t the shot I meant.”

She dropped her gaze to the landscape. “Take the picture, Rog, before it’s gone. Views like that don’t happen every day. And look at you: you’re in a tree, wrapped around the trunk like a monkey. If you don’t take it
now,
you’ll have wasted a heck of an effort for nothing.”

Roger turned and snapped about twenty frames, then shifted to his side and took several more. She should see the view. He wanted her to share it with him. “Come up here.” He put a hand down and flicked his fingers in a come-hither gesture.

Caroline rattled her head back and forth. “I haven’t climbed a tree since I was, I don’t know, ten? Besides, there’s no room for me.”

He tied the camera strap to a limb. With his legs anchored around the trunk, he leaned down with both hands and dangled his arms. “There’s plenty of room. Give me your hands. You have to see this. It’s amazing.”

“I’m dressed wrong.” He didn’t care. She hesitated, and he gestured again. Two seconds later, she reached for him. He grabbed her forearms as she wrapped her hands around his biceps and pulled her up. She was light, even lighter than his teenage sister. It took little effort to help her scramble up the trunk until she fell into his lap. Ouch. Knee to groin. “Uh, sorry.”

He sucked in air and moved her a few inches. “No problem. Look.” He pointed. From the ground, all one could see was trees. From this vantage point, the water of the lake on the other side shimmered like strands of tinsel, catching the light and magnifying the intensity.

Caroline glanced around, taking in the view in silence. “It’s nice.”

“It’s better than nice.” Except her weight was pinching his hip. He lifted her and shuffled her a bit to the side. The skirt hitched higher on her leg. He dared not look.

“Hey. Stop. I’ll fall.” She reached behind his head and clutched a limb. The simple act put her chest against his. Her heart thudded gently.

Roger wrapped his arms tightly around her tiny frame. “I won’t let you fall—I have you. I’m not letting anything bad happen.”

She turned slightly, and her hair fell against her cheek only centimeters away from him. It tickled. He focused on her eyes, which seemed to hold a pool of sadness. Why? “Too late for that.”

Huh? “What does that mean?”

Their gazes locked for a few more seconds, then she shrugged. “Nothing.”

He put a finger under her chin and pulled her face back to his. “One of the advantages of having sisters is that I’m a great listener. You know, just in case you ever feel like doing something really dumb and opening up.”

“I talk.”

He frowned. “I mean
really
talk. About whatever it was that put those shadows in your eyes.”

Caroline lifted her chin and challenged. “My eyes are fine.”

She was right about that. They
were
fine, just like all the rest of her. Every bit of her was fine—and plastered against him like a second skin. He was an idiot. This wasn’t the time to dwell on her ghosts from the past. She was in his lap, watching the most vibrant sunrise he’d seen—and he was wasting the moment.

He grasped both sides of her face and searched her eyes. “Yes, they’re fine…just like the rest of you.” He then pulled her closer and kissed the curve of her cheek. He moved to the tip of her nose and dropped a kiss there before moving on to the other cheek. She smelled delicious, citrusy, like always. He wanted more. He dropped to her mouth, and she parted her lips to let him taste.

He still wanted more. He reached for her, trailing his fingertips along her neck then down her sides. Had she shivered? He crept his fingers down to the hem of her skirt and played with the edge. He wanted to touch her, to touch skin. So he adjusted his fingers and walked them along her leg.

“Stop.” Caroline grabbed his wrist. He stilled for a second before moving his forefinger in a circular motion against her leg. Roger focused on her eyes and the feel of her skin in the morning air. It was warm to his touch, soft and trembling. He strummed softly against her thigh, and she groaned.

And closed her eyes. “Okay, don’t stop.”

He grinned. Don’t stop. He liked the sound of
that.
Roger dropped his mouth to her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin. Something about her citrusy cleanness made him feel hopeful inside, cheerful—yet feral—a deep wildness that strained against the bands of his control. He moved his lips down the curve of her neck and deep into the V of the shirt that clung to her body. Lucky shirt. He wanted to do that—cling to her like damp silk. The thought pulled a groan from him as well.

He opened his eyes and stared through a foggy haze ... at the grass below. Holy shit. He grabbed her hip, clutching onto her—panties? “We’re gonna fall,” he warned. The heat of her breath against his neck had made his body stiffen, betraying him when he needed to be agile. He spread his other arm and anchored against a limb, but it was too small to hold. They rolled over the bend of the branch and started to free-fall.

Caroline screamed and clutched at the bark, tearing away fragments that tumbled to the ground. Roger took a last-ditch grab at another branch, hoping it would be strong enough to save them.

It was.

Caroline crawled up him like a wild cat. Damn. Could he talk her into doing that again later? When they weren’t risking life and limb in a tree? “I’ve got you,” he whispered in her ear. “I won’t let you get hurt.” God, he hoped he could keep that promise.

The panic in her eyes flickered, and while Roger felt like his arms would split from his sides, he held tight. Yes, he’d keep the promise. He’d keep holding on because that’s who he was. The anchor. He stared into her eyes and nodded. “You’re fine.”

She mirrored his nod and bit a lip. “Okay.”

“Okay.” They’d only descended a foot or two, thank God. “Just hold on, and I’ll get us down.” She wrapped around him like a koala bear, her legs tight over his hips and her arms dug into his back. As he felt the full length of her breasts and torso rubbing against the buttons on his shirt, he stifled another groan. What the hell was wrong with him?

They were about to fall from a tree, and he was—aroused. He felt like he was fifteen again. Caroline was hot—he glanced at the fingers clutching his shoulder—and totally dependent on him at the moment. He inched along until his foot could reach a lower branch.

He looked up for a second. “Damn, forgot the camera.” It was still wrapped around the limb over their heads. Roger winced as Caroline dug a foot into his thigh and lifted until her breasts encompassed his face.

She yanked the camera strap loose and wrapped it over her neck. “Got it.” She clutched onto his shoulder. He liked the pinch of her digging into him.

Roger nodded and worked slowly, finding one foothold, then another, until he had them near the ground. Caroline unwrapped her legs from his waist and dropped.

A rush of cold—and loneliness?—enveloped Roger.

“I should get to work.” Caroline pulled a leaf from her hair.

“Or not,” Roger offered.

Caroline eyed him suspiciously. Mr. Reliable wanted her to ditch work? No way. “What do you mean?”

Roger slipped his hands into his pockets then shrugged and kicked the leaves they’d knocked loose. “You could be a few minutes late, couldn’t you?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

He grinned. “I thought we might finish what we started without the altitude problems.”

What was it about those silly dimples that made her insides curl up in a little ball and start spinning like a roly-poly? She stared. It had to be the little boy in him. He was built like a man and talked like one, but his face was young and ... a tad devilish. He was likely one of those children best remembered for playing pranks on teachers. Were his sisters dimpled like that, too?

“Abby will be alone and swamped. I can’t do that to her. We’re partners.”

“Maybe, but what if it’s a slow morning? You won’t be missed at all.”

She considered the thought. “Um, let me call and check.”

He looked up at the sky, and she wondered if he was praying for slow business. She hoped not; they needed the money. Of course, she needed a little more of what they’d started, too, but sometimes you have to take what you can get.

Abby picked up on the first ring—meaning the store was empty. “Hey, what’s up?”

Caroline hesitated. “Mind if I’m a little late today?”

“Not at all. It’s dead here right now. I was just thinking about reorganizing the shelves.” Yikes—that meant the store wasn’t just dead; it was comatose.

After saying goodbye, Caroline hung up and turned to Roger. “Hmmm, guess you have me captive a little longer.”

• • •

“Captive” wasn’t exactly the word he’d have used, but at least they had a few more minutes. Caroline glanced up at the tree they’d nearly fallen from. Her neck arched gracefully, and he wanted to run a finger down the soft lines. She dropped her glance to meet his. “Where’d you learn to use the camera like that, seriously?”

“What? You think you’re the only one with talent? I have talent, too ...”

She huffed. “I
saw
that. And despite the fact that you had an unwilling subject and no signed release to use those photos of me, I have to admit they were good. Better than good, they were unusual. Artistic. Do you have others like that?”

Others of her? Or another girl’s body? What was she inferring? “Not like those. Those were a one-time attempt at ... something. I don’t know. But where did I learn to use the camera? From you at first. I took a few photography night classes after I graduated and realized pretty quickly there was a lot more to it than just clicking the button. Now, I look for shadows. Not gradual ones—for deep, dark shadows that really make a scene dramatic. That tree’s a good example. If you look through the leaves, you get this veiled glow of green and yellow. Then there are these vivid oranges and reds. Let me show you.”

He shifted the camera and slid open the review screen. After a few movements, he turned the display to show her the shots of the tree. Green leaves that faded to red and revealed the crevices of the bark on the side, then the sunlight glowing through with streaks of brightness. Bold pinks and oranges. Soothing greens and browns.

She focused on the screen. “Oh. That’s beautiful. What do you do with them? Do you blow them up and frame them like the ones at the fundraiser?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t that be nice to get that much money for each of these? No, I upload some of them to this stock photo website where they pay me if the pictures get downloaded. A lot of them just get deleted because I usually take a dozen or so just to get a good shot.”

She handed the camera back. “I know the feeling. So, how’d you meet my father?”

He wanted to tell the full details, but some things are just too painful. Would she understand the effect her mother had on those around her? Would she get angry? “I met your father through your mother.”

Her eyes popped at the words. “What? My mother’s ... gone.”

Roger’s stomach turned as if someone had kicked him, a quick reminder to choose his words carefully. Still, she needed to know. “Your mother was in one of the photography classes I took. She wanted to capture the people around her in the hospital. According to her, it was something she could do that didn’t require becoming a painter or a seamstress. I had no idea at the time you two were connected. Of course, as soon as I learned her name, I asked. You favor her a little. More than a little, I guess.”

“Was this a one-night class?”

“No, it was a six-week class that met at the library. She stopped coming after the fourth class, and by that time, I’d become so used to her chatter that I called to find out if she was okay. Until then, I had no idea she was sick. She always seemed tired, but, well, you don’t ask people personal questions when you don’t know them. Even if you do, they don’t always tell the truth. Some do. Some don’t. With your mother, it seemed rude to ask. Your father answered the phone and told me she had gone back to the hospital. So ... I went to visit her.”

Caroline’s eyes glittered in the morning sun, and he knew there was a depth of emotion behind her blinking and stillness. “You did? I hated that hospital.”

He nodded. “Can’t blame you. Not a pleasant place.”

“Was that before or after I came back?”

“Before.”

“Why didn’t she tell me about you? She could have—”

“She talked about you, but I never told her we’d already met. I just acted ... ” He shrugged because he wasn’t sure what to say. Carol had been pretty out of it at the time and showed him a pile of pictures Caroline sent home. Good pictures. Sad ones, too. It made his work seem trivial. She was snapping death, war, and all sorts of violence. He was snapping lights, fences, faces, and abstract nothings.