Chapter 18
Levi
The moment her lips touched mine, my growing suspicions were confirmed. I had fallen for Claire, and I had no way of coming back from these feelings.
I wanted more from Claire, and I couldn’t do that without her understanding bits of me. She’d been so open and honest. It was time to share part of myself in return before things went any further.
The drive back to the house was the exact opposite of the ride into town. Claire sat in contemplative silence. Although she was quiet, when I glanced her way, wanting to simply look at her through the flashes of streetlights, she gazed at me with heat in her eyes, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip, watching me with an intensity that made sitting in jeans difficult. Each time I caught her heated stare, Claire would turn to look out the window as my grip tightened on the steering wheel until my knuckles went white.
She sat up, surprised when I parked in front of Little Cabin. “We don’t have to go in there,” she said with patient understanding.
“I want to show you something,” I explained.
She glanced at the cabin and back at me. “Okay.”
I went around and gave her my hand to help her out of the truck. This time, it was met with a soft smile instead of skepticism. I wound my fingers through hers as I led her up the deck and into the house. Our hands fit naturally together. She was smiling when I glanced over at her.
I took a deep breath to steady myself as we walked into the house. The nerves were still there, but they weren’t incapacitating. More like the lingering chill in your fingers when you come in from the cold to warm by the fire. The desire to be near her and share with her was stronger than the tragedy of this house that still plagued me.
When Claire was around, she demanded all attention from my senses, so there was no room for anything but her.
I’d taken two steps forward to the extra room when her hand slid from mine.
“I think we should kiss more. Make out, actually,” she said.
I stopped in my tracks. I turned as slowly as possible so I could collect all the thoughts that had just exploded through my brain.
“Unless you don’t want to. Obviously. But that kiss.” She whooshed out a deep breath, fingers twisting in front of her. “It was like—” She made a gesture that I think was supposed to represent fire. “And you are just—so I think we should. Make out. Yep.” She nodded, apparently pleased with that proposal.
I chuckled, feeling more nervous than I would have ever thought. Now, I was fully distracted from the reason I brought her here. She wanted to kiss me. I took one large step toward her. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in another breath, lifting her breasts closer to me.
“It’s just that I don’t do subtext. I don’t really get body language. Unless it’s very obvious.” Her gaze flicked to my groin, where I had been sporting an erection like a randy teenager at the fire, and back up to meet my waiting eyes. Color burned her cheeks. She was adorable. “I just really need to know one way or the other.”
“I do want to kiss you more?—”
“Okay, great.” She slammed into me before I could finish the sentence.
I caught her shoulders with my palms as her lips pressed into mine. I had been about to say something else, but when we collided, I didn’t remember how to speak. Whatever thin thread that had been pulling me through the house snapped, mission forgotten. My desire for her was a simmering pot, and the press of her lips against mine was the heat to bubble over. She was delicious and warm and soft against me.
All there was were her lips moving softly against mine.
It took fractions of a second to realize I hadn’t responded to her yet. Far too long. She had been taking the lead, but no more. My hands went to her luxuriously soft hair, threading through the thick locks. I moved us so that I could press her against the door and use my thigh and hip to grind into her, hold her up. I slanted my mouth across her, using my tongue to press into hers. She moaned in relief.
I couldn’t settle myself. I couldn’t kiss her enough. I was shaking and out of control. I lapped at her. I pawed at her. Hands moving to her waist from her hair and back again. But too risky to leave them there. My thumbs were desperate to worm their way under her shirt, under the hem of her jeans. I moved them back to her head and cupped her head gently as my hips jutted into her. My cock needed friction in any form. Needed her to feel my want.
She gasped out. Took gulping breaths of air into her lungs. I used it as an opportunity to suck and kiss at her neck. I wanted to take her here. I wanted to bend her over that desk of hers where I’d seen her working so many hours and tease her until she was dripping for me, until I could slide in all the way to the hilt and feel her wet heat clenching around me.
“God, Levi,” she gasped out.
My hand had somehow moved back to her hip, my traitorous thumb working its way under her shirt, rubbing in slow circles across her heated skin.
“Fuck.” I tore my mouth away. I mumbled thoughts without thinking. “Fuck. I knew it would be like that. I knew it would be too hard to stop once we started.” I backed up until I was against the wall opposite her. I bent over with my hands on my knees and my now intensely painful second erection for the night. Taking gasps of breath in.
I lifted my head to check in on the woman I’d all but devoured.
Claire leaned back against the wall, a smug smile on her red plumped lips, chest heaving. She ran a hand across her chest and brought her fingers to her lips, a sort of daze slowness to her movements. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
I pushed myself against the wall, letting the corner of it dig into my back, trying to distract my body with pain.
I blinked at her, my breaths still coming too fast. Confusion as to who I was and what I was doing there. My gaze focused on her nipples pressing against her shirt, and my mind wandered to wonder if she’d be wet if I slipped my hand into those jeans.
“Levi?” she asked.
“Claire.”
Her smile widened. “You wanted to show me something?”
“I wanted to show you something,” I agreed.
“And it wasn’t just to make out?”
“It wasn’t just to make out.” I cleared my head with a rough shake. “No. Right. I wanted to show something to you. In the room.” I ran the back of my hand over my mouth. I tasted her. Fuck, I still wanted her so badly.
In a daze, I went to the room in question. I heard her soft laughter as she followed. I unlocked the door.
“This was my mom’s darkroom,” I said, flicking on the light of the once-forbidden room.
It was a soft yellow light that cast us in film noir shadows. It cleared the final haze of lust from my mind, and I was able to focus. An understanding passed over Claire’s features.
“Oh.” The way she said it made me wonder if she’d already guessed the purpose of this room.
She was a very convincing liar if she had been in there already.
“You left it unlocked the other day when you were in here,” she admitted.
“Ah.” I sighed, not easily hiding the hurt I felt. “You already saw everything?” If I knew Claire, she hadn’t waited five minutes before her curiosity got the better of her.
“No,” she said quickly. Then added, sheepishly, “I thought about it. Trust me. But it felt wrong.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “It felt personal, and it’s better seeing it this way. With you showing me. I want to learn about Lily, but I want it to be on your terms. When you’re ready.”
Her gaze held mine, and I swallowed. “I’m ready.” Her ex-boyfriend had been wrong to call her ruthless. This was not a ruthless journalist. This was a woman who cared deeply.
“My mother was an incredible photographer. Mostly portraits. She would have been the next Anne Leibovitz.” I took her to the first box as I spoke.
“So art runs in your blood.”
“She was the talented one. She could have been huge,” I said, and a hint of bitterness came through.
She gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t expand. I turned my back toward her while I opened the box and pulled out some of the prints. I waited for the familiar pain of shock and sadness to hit. But it didn’t. I only felt pride as I pulled out each photo and held them reverently to Claire.
Her mouth parted as she took them with equal gentleness. Her gaze flickered over every one, not rushing. Really seeing. “These are amazing.”
“She was unbelievably talented.” I stepped back to give her space. I had seen all these photos a hundred times.
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of her. She could have had exhibits. I’ve worked with many photographers over the years and learned a little about the skills required to be good. Did she maybe go by another name?”
“No. She never had success in that sense,” I said stiffly.
“Why not?” she asked, appalled, and I narrowed my eyes. She closed her eyes with a frustrated huff of air. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. You can tell me as much or as little as you want.”
“It’s okay. I don’t like to talk about it. She never wanted fame. She—” I skirted around the full truth by latching on to others. “She liked living here in Cozy Creek. She liked raising me. She said that was all she ever wanted.”
“That’s lovely.” Claire smiled, her gaze drifting as she thought. After a moment, she went back to the photographs. A little crease formed between her brows before a massive smile split her face open. “I recognize these little guys.”
I knew before I looked exactly what picture she had found. It was a picture of Pace and me. We were eight years old and had just come back from exploring in the woods. We were covered in dirt, jeans ripped, and hair a mess, but we wore the biggest grins you’d ever seen. Our front teeth were a little too big, with summer freckles on our noses as we slung arms around each other. I clearly remembered that moment, stepping out of the trees and onto the driveway. My mother’s face was obscured by the lens. I had rolled my eyes, but Pace was ready for his close-up. The lighting somehow looked ethereal and sentimental all at once.
More than that, it was an incredible photograph. My mother deserved to have it all, and that choice was taken from her.
I couldn’t talk about that with Claire yet. The rawness of being here, of our kiss, the day in town talking about Lily and seeing the pity, it was all catching up. I felt bone weary. I felt the darkness creeping in around the edges.
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Claire said.
I nodded.
“Are you okay?” she asked, carefully setting down the photos back into the box. “Is this too much?”
“It’s a lot,” I said honestly.
“Let’s leave it for now,” she said simply. She quickly flipped through a few more before gently lowering them back into the box. “Maybe, one day, you can show me the rest of the photos? I think I recognized some people from town.”
I nodded and headed to the door. “You can come look at this stuff. I won’t lock it anymore.”
“Thank you,” she said.
It hit me then. The real reason I wanted to show Claire this room. It was about sharing a part of myself, but it was also my way of showing myself the truth .
When you fall for a woman, it’s going to hit you like a train.
It had felt like a warning when my mother said it. I felt things too deep and wanted things too much. My mother always recognized my sensitive nature. I was sure I had inherited it from her. But where it made her patient with the world, understanding the ebb and flow of nature, it made me scared and hard. She said that the softest insides have to develop the strongest shells. It wasn’t easy to be an artist male with squishy insides who cried at movies and got goose bumps at musicals—yes, we watched musicals—living in a small town.
She never made me feel bad about it. She tried to teach me the balance of it.
Too soft and too hard for this world.
This time, I heard Claire’s voice.
“I just haven’t had the heart to clear this stuff out. Or see if this medical equipment could be donated. I keep meaning to,” I explained as we moved out of the room.
“I understand. I was often told that there is no timeline for grief. It doesn’t just stop one day. That room can wait.” She reached for my hand and squeezed.
We went silently back into the main area, but she didn’t let me go. She stepped closer. Questioning. I cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. My heart raced, betraying my head. Or maybe the other way around.
It would be so easy to kiss her. To peel off her clothes like I had before.
I stepped forward to reach for her. I felt lighter having shared .
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” she said. “Really. I feel honored.” She held my eyes for a beat and smiled wide.
“Thank you for listening.” I wanted this woman. I wanted to share more with her. The day was catching up, but being with her didn’t drain me. It filled me up. I wanted to tell her that. I wanted to tell her so much more.
“I know I’m just passing through and am practically a stranger. I understand now why having someone stay here would be so difficult.”
Just passing through .
I nodded at her feet. “Yeah. I just?—”
“It’s okay. You made the rules very clear.” Her tone was light and understanding, but how could she think she was a stranger after I shared this with her? “You don’t have to explain,” she said honestly. “I know I’ve been a little pushy, but you’re a good man, Levi. I like spending time with you. I understand you have rules in place, but if you ever want to spend more time with me … if you get bored .” Her gaze met mine, pupils dark with subtext. “I’ll be here. In Little Cabin.”
I swallowed with difficulty. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted her. I had wanted her and thought about her every moment of every day, even when I told myself I wasn’t.
Fuck the rules. They were in place to protect me, but now they were hurting me.
“Having the rules is important to you?” I asked.
“I like clear boundaries and expectations,” she said with a nod.
Nothing about my feelings for her was clear. I would have probably followed that desire if I hadn’t started to develop feelings. I would have let myself get lost in her body as a distraction from the grief I was still processing in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to do in the past few years. But then, she enraptured me. She spoke in a way that made me anxious to hear what she’d come up with next. She had such a special way of seeing the world.
I couldn’t take her up on her offer as much as I wanted to. I wasn’t content to only have her for a night or a few weeks while she was passing through town. If only I didn’t feel things so deeply, if only I was able to take things in stride like everybody else seemed to. But now, having kissed her and spent time with her, my meeting Claire felt monumental and crucial. Everything I thought I wanted and knew had changed.
I didn’t want to know what these feelings for her were, or if I did, I wasn’t ready to admit them. It was like the empty shell I had been living in was now too small to contain everything I had experienced. I would never be able to squeeze myself back in now.
No.
I would have some self-control.
For now, I would just avoid her and let things simmer before they boil over. My blood was too hot around her. My control was a hair trigger, and that kiss proved it. I didn’t want to give in and risk her thinking she wasn’t important to me. We were more than hookups based on spiked cider and “good vibes.”
I waited too long to speak. She sighed and tossed her hands out to the side. We were walking to the front door. “It’s been a long day. You have shared a lot and been around a lot of people. You go get some rest,” she said.
“Good night, Claire,” I said at the door.
“Good night, Levi.” She hesitated, body tense, but didn’t move.
Right when I was about to turn to leave, I bent to gently lift her chin. I kissed her forehead, brushing my thumb along the dimple that appeared. I searched her eyes, hoping the right answer would come to me, but I only found my feelings for her growing every second.
I didn’t look back as I walked up to Big Cabin. I needed help from someone who could talk me through this.