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Love for Beginners: An Under the Hood Novella Page 12
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Page 12
…
Heath unlocked the door and walked into the silent house. He stood for a moment and let the still quiet wash over him. This house was so rarely silent—despite the fact that all his brothers were grown, four of them still lived at home and the house was almost never empty.
He hated being the center of attention, but at least tonight was shared with Ben and Alice. Alice and Mom had insisted on displaying all the photographs that had won him the contract, and had invited the extended family to join them for the party to end all parties in the hotel.
All of the pictures except the photographs of Mel. He’d sent her back both sets, had only kept the one he’d taken of her at the river; he had two copies of that one.
She hadn’t even acknowledged receiving them.
He’d thought being without her would get easier with time, had thrown himself into work to try to dull the pain. But the moment he’d heard that Alice was coming home for the party, his only thought was to interrogate her about Mel, to find out if there was any indication that she was missing him as he was missing her.
He’d done as she asked and walked away, all the while hoping she’d come to her senses, realize that there was a hell of lot more to them than a quick fling. And had been in torment, growling at his brothers and family like a bear with its paw caught in a trap until he’d finally shaken the rocks out of his head and come to a decision.
He’d booked his ticket. And when the meeting with National Geographic was over, he was flying right back to Meadowsweet, right back to Mel. The worst she could do was reject him again, but he owed it to both of them to try. The show might be over, the curtain down, but there was always hope for an encore.
He stalked into the kitchen, picked up the bouquet from the table, and headed out.
…
This was probably…definitely…the most stupid idea she had ever had. Mel checked her makeup in Alice’s hotel room and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long. The phone rang and she snatched it up with shaking fingers.
“He’s here,” Alice said. “Do you want me to come up and get you?”
Mel’s heart was racing. “No. Stay there. I’ll be right down.” She smoothed a hand over her red dress, walked out of the room, and headed for the elevator.
The party was in full swing by the time she entered the room they’d hired for the evening. Alice was standing near the door, watching out for her, and walked over and linked her arm through Mel’s. “Okay?” she whispered.
“Where is he?”
Alice pointed across the room where Heath stood deep in conversation with two older people who must be his parents.
“He’s only just arrived. He hasn’t seen the pictures yet,” Alice said.
“Let’s do it.” Mel forced down the feeling of panic, and they strode over to the first of Heath’s framed photographs, gracing the wall behind a table set with canapés.
Alice grabbed a fork and tapped it against her glass of champagne.
“Can I have everyone’s attention?”
All sound in the room faded into silence and every eye in the place focused on them.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Alice said. “It’s wonderful to see all my family, and to celebrate my engagement, the news that Ben is going to take over the day-to-day running of our family garage, and the fact that Heath has landed his very first National Geographic contract.” She looked over at Heath and raised her glass.
He was staring at Mel, but not moving a muscle. Giving no indication of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. The thought of a very public rejection made Mel’s body tense, ready for flight. Of course I’m not going to run. Not in these heels.
Alice was talking again. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Mel,” she said and then took a step back.
Mel’s mouth dried as she looked out into the sea of unfamiliar faces.
“Hello, everyone.” She looked at him. “Hello, Heath.”
His gaze flickered to the wall behind her, then back to her eyes.
“I’m an interloper at your party tonight, and I brought some party-crashers with me.” She waved a hand at the series of six photographs behind her. All photographs of her.
“Heath will tell you about the rest of the photographs at this exhibition, but I wanted to talk about these.”
No one responded. No one spoke. It was amazing how an entire room full of people could be so silent.
She started at the first photograph. “This was taken when we first arrived at Jamesons’ Cabin. Heath asked me to pose for him, and for the first time, I saw his love for photography, his passion.”
She pointed at the second. “Here, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and moments after Heath took it, I fell. I hurt myself, and he looked after me.”
Then picture three. “In this one, I pretended to skim stones across the surface of the river, but actually spent every unobserved moment watching Heath instead.”
The fourth picture. The one at the river where her feelings for him were written in her eyes. He still didn’t move, and fear curled tendrils around Mel’s insides. “I think you can all tell what I was thinking in this photograph.”
Murmurs rippled around the room.
She took a couple of steps to the final two pictures. “This is the last picture that I was aware of Heath taking of me. It was at the end of our first day in the mountains, and he was captivated by the setting sun.” The memory triggered a tiny smile. “I was captivated by him.”
She looked up at the last picture, the picture that said it all, and made her heart ache in her chest. Her face wasn’t visible. “Heath took this picture the next day. And as you can see, I was leaving him.” She’d left him at the shack, and something had compelled him to take a picture as she walked away. The poignancy of the image was powerful.
And now, finally Heath reacted. He walked across the room to her, slowly, deliberately, as all his relatives watched, many of them with their mouths agape.
When he reached her side he took her hand in his.
Her palm tingled at his touch. She breathed in his familiar scent and noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes.
“There’s one photograph that isn’t here,” she said in a low voice, intended for him alone. “One you wanted to take after our night together. I told you no…because I couldn’t. I was afraid of what your lens would see.” She breathed deeply and evenly. “That somehow, you’d see how unconfident I was inside. Even then, I didn’t trust you.”
Heath’s beautiful blue gaze didn’t waver from hers.
“Now you’re going away. Fear rose up in me I and pushed you away. I’ve come to ask you to take that photograph of me tonight. To carry it with you wherever you go. To see me, and know how much I care about you. How much I trust you.”
“You want me to take your photograph?” Heath asked.
She nodded.
Heath reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out his wallet.
“Look.” He opened it to reveal a smaller print of the picture that graced the wall behind them. “Your face is always with me. Your eyes tell me what your lips couldn’t.”
Mel stared down at the picture he’d taken that day by the river. In it, she looked not into his lens, but through it, to him. Her expression was more naked than her body would ever be.
He ran his hands over her shoulders, leaned in. “I appreciate the thought,” he said against her lips. “But I’ve stayed awake every night since we parted gazing at your picture. And it isn’t enough. I need you. Making it work isn’t going to be easy—I’m going to be away a lot. But I’ll move to Meadowsweet, so when I’m home I’ll be home with you.”
He turned to the room. “Mom, Dad, everyone—this is the woman in my life.”
And while all hell broke loose, before his parents and siblings made it across the room to them, he pulled her into his embrace, and held her so tightly she was in danger of fainting.
They were so busy k
issing neither noticed Alice take her cell phone from the bag around her shoulder, line up the shot, and record the final frame.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to my critique partners, Sri and Jo.
About the Author
Sally Clements writes fun, sexy and real contemporary romance, partnering hot heroes with heroines who know what they want, and go for it!
Her first novel was published in 2010, and she is now a full-time author. Sally lives in the Irish countryside, and when she isn’t writing can usually be found in traffic, driving “Mum’s taxi.”
Always a voracious reader, she considers writing for a living the perfect job—the only downside is saying good-bye to her characters at book’s end!
You can find her at:
Blog: http://www.sallyclements.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SallyClementsAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sallywriter
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