Loving Lies(30)

Noah stops me with a hand on my shoulder and since he’s not the touchy-feely type of guy I simply turn and glare at him.

“Alyssa, just five more, please. Maybe try going out of your comfort zone and go for people.”

I grind my teeth. “I don’t do people and I’m only doing this as a favor for you.”

“I know, I know, but how about trying it?”

I ignore both him and Amy who has jumped on the Noah bandwagon for me to create five more pictures while I bundle up my photos.

Noah steps in front of the door and dramatically drops to his knees. Amy laughs while I continue to glare at him.

“Five, that’s it. Please, I’m begging here. It won’t take you long,” he says, like he has any idea what it takes for me to create one of these photos.

“Noah, you don’t get it. I’m not taking pictures of people and five more means more hiking, more developing and you’ve got one week. We haven’t even got the frames built.”

Noah casts a look at me and then flashes me one of his charming smiles he uses on all the women who look his way. “Actually they’re all built. All fifteen of them.”

My eyes narrow. “They’re all built.” The little shit!

“Yup. Want to see them?”

Not really. I’m exhausted. For the last five days I’ve taken every extra shift I can get my hands on and when not working I’ve been hiking, anything to avoid seeing Blake again. Part of me knows I’m being a chicken but when I’m with him all I want is more. That can’t happen in my life.

I run a hand through my hair and cringe. I’ve got to take a shower and do laundry. My work pants have ketchup on them and my top reeks of liquor. “Maybe later. I’ve got to go.”

“Will you please think about five more?” says Noah, reminding me once again how much this will mean to Kat and just like that I’m caving.

“Fine. I’ll think about it, but no promises.”

He flashes me a smile and I roll my eyes. Amy and Noah leave and I tell them I’ve got one thing to grab in my office but the reality is that I want some alone time.

I finish tidying up my supplies, and enjoy the quiet thrill of seeing my pictures pegged to the clothesline.

“You plan on hiding in here all night?”

I squeal like a stupid girl and feel my heart jump. Blake laughs and then before I can stop him, before I can build that concrete barrier around my heart I’m in his arms, engulfed in that Blake cedar-outdoor smell.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he states, holding me tight. My will power to avoid him fizzles.

Why does he have to feel so good? He’s not shy in his embrace. I’m caught tight against him, and with our height we’re almost hip to hip. His hands cup my ass and damn if that feel of ownership doesn’t make me want to strip him naked.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

I can’t speak it. What I feel for him is so tightly wrapped up it’s been making me crazy. Should I tell him I’ve packed my bags three times intending to flee only to find myself lying on my bed recalling the feel of his hair on my fingertips or the way his mouth makes my body bow to his?

His hands are running up and down my back and I lean my head into his chest letting his strength and warmth fill me and it’s then I crack. This one act of kindness, this loving feeling I so want to embrace.

I push him away. “I’ve got to go,” I say, my voice cracking as I fight the tears.

I grab my purse and keys and march out the door. He follows without saying a word. I lock up my room and we silently make our way to the front door. We both emerge into the dark of the night and I make sure to lock that door. Noah claims I left it unlocked the other night but that’s not true. I’m waiting for Blake to ask or say something and it’s only when he doesn’t that I realize how much I’ve missed him.

We’re walking side by side. The gravel crunches under our shoes and I can hear an owl or something hooting in the night. “Why are you here?”

“What?” he says.

I turn then needing to find the answers he’s not willing to give. “Why are you really here?”

He scoffs on a laugh. “Are you saying R&R don’t count? God, I’ve missed you like crazy these past few days. I know we had an intense night when I got back but I don’t regret it. Why are you running from me?

“I’m not running, just busy,” I say.

“Trust works both ways, Alyssa.”

“I work here.”

“But you’re running from something.”

I gasp. How’d he know?

He’s looking at me so intensely it makes me feel vulnerable.