Every Breath(42)

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How do you want me to pose?”

He opened the sketchbook. “Just be yourself and pretend I’m not here.”

It wasn’t easy. No one had ever drawn her likeness before. She crossed one leg over the other, then tried again with the other leg. But what to do with the coffee? Again she debated setting the cup aside, but she took a sip instead. She leaned forward, then tried leaning back. She turned toward the house where Tru was staying, then toward the ocean, then back to Tru. Nothing felt right, but she noticed that he was staring at her with quiet concentration.

“How am I supposed to pretend you’re not here with you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve never been on the other side.”

“Some help you are,” she teased, and tucked a leg beneath her, trying to get comfortable. Better, she thought. Thankfully, Scottie had followed them out and she decided to focus on him as he lay curled beneath the kitchen window.

By then, Tru had descended into silence, and she watched him pick up the pencil. His eyes flickered from her to the sketch and back again, and she noted the confident movement of his hand as he drew and smudged with practiced ease. Occasionally he would squint or furrow his brow, and she knew he wasn’t even aware of it. Somehow, that flash of nakedness beneath his assured demeanor made her want him even more.

When the clouds began to darken again, they both knew it was time to stop.

“Would you like to see it? It’s not finished, but there’s enough to show the general idea.”

“Maybe after I shower,” she demurred, rising from her seat. Tru collected the pad and the pencils, and halting just inside the doorway, he kissed her tenderly. He pulled her close and she leaned into him, inhaling his scent, wondering again at the mysterious forces that had brought them together.





TOGETHER




After her shower, Hope sat beside Tru on the couch as he showed her his drawing of her, as well as others in his sketchbook. She took her time admiring them. Later, when the rain tapered off, they ventured out for lunch at a café on Ocean Isle Beach, while the storm rose to a fury beyond the windows.

When she finally had to start getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, Tru sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze steady in her direction. There was something about watching a woman put on makeup that he’d always found sexy, and he sensed that she enjoyed having him as an audience.

At the door, when it was time for her to leave, they kissed for a long time. He held her close, imprinting her body upon his, and stood on the front porch, waving as she pulled away. She’d asked him to take Scottie out later, and said he was welcome to stay at the cottage if he wished.

He made a quick trip next door to pick up a steak and some side items, and prepared the meal in Hope’s kitchen. As he ate, he tried to imagine Hope among her friends, wondering whether they would be able to see in her face all that had happened in the last few days.

He spent some time adding further detail to the drawing of her that he’d started earlier, stopping only when he was finally satisfied. Still not ready to put the pencils aside, however, he started another drawing of the two of them standing on the beach, facing each other in profile. She didn’t need to be there for that; it was enough to imagine the scene, and the work went quickly. By the time he stopped for the night, hours had passed, and he felt Hope’s absence like an ache.

She made it back to the cottage by midnight. They made love, but she was still exhausted from the night before, and soon after, he heard her breathing change as she fell asleep in his arms. For him, sleep was elusive. Their time together here would be ending soon, yet he knew she was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

He stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to reconcile those two realities.



In the morning, Tru was quieter than usual. Instead of speaking, he held her for a long time in bed, and she felt her entire being resound with the depths of her feelings for him.

But it frightened her, in the same way she suspected that it frightened Tru. What she wanted was for all this, these last few days, to last forever while time stopped everywhere else. But the clock seemed to be ticking louder with every passing minute.

It was still raining moderately when they got out of bed, but they decided to take another walk on the beach nonetheless. Hope found rain jackets in the closet, and they brought Scottie out. They held hands as they walked, and by unspoken agreement, they paused at the spot where they’d met for the very first time. He kissed her and when she pulled back, he took her hands in his.

“I think I wanted all of this to happen from the moment I met you.”

“What part? Sleeping with me or falling in love?”

“Both,” he admitted. “When did you know?”

“I think I knew we might sleep together when we had wine on the porch after dinner. I didn’t know I’d fall for you until the night you came over for dinner.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry about turning away when you tried to kiss me the first time.”

“Don’t be.”

They started the trek back, stopping in at the house where Tru was staying. On the answering machine was a message from his father, saying that he hoped to arrive at the house between two and three. Which would work out perfectly, Hope thought. She’d be leaving around then for the wedding. Even though the ceremony started at six, she had to be there early for photographs.