Six Impossible Things Part Two

by Skylar Hill

  “My mother always said I was her sensitive child,” he said, his mouth tilting as he handed her phone back. “Your work is incredible, Nora.”

  “Most people… they focus on the nudity,” she said. “You didn’t even mention it.”

  “That’s just one part of it,” he said. “The exposure. The vulnerability.”

  A smile flitted across her sweet, pink lips. “Are you sure you didn’t, like, minor in Art or something?”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “My assistant, Ros, is a big art patron. She also happens to be my cousin, so she’s usually my plus-one for all the charity stuff. She’s a big reason the Stone Foundation’s been funding more art, theatre, and music charities.”

  Her smile grew wider, fonder.

  “What?” he asked, curious.

  “I like how you listen to people,” she said. “Someone in your position… you could have a really big ego, Luke. You could throw your power and money around, and people would let you do it because of who you are. But instead, you do things like hire Bert and listen to your assistant about art, and Margaux will not stop talking about how good you were with the women who run Our Safe Place.”

  This time, he was worried it was him turning red. “I’m just a guy who happened to inherit a lot of money,” he said. “If I can learn from the people in my life who are more experienced and educated at helping people than me, then I figure… it would be a good life lived, you know?”

  “And you want to live a good life,” she said, and it wasn’t a question, but something unraveled in him as he looked at her, understanding shimmering between them, so he found himself answering.

  “I owe it to them,” he said, not having to clarify he meant his parents. He could feel something rising in his chest, a tight sort of emotion that he spent most of his time ignoring.

  But then, she reached out, her hand covering his, her long, elegant fingers entwining with his thicker, calloused ones, and that tightness gave way like a rope snapping. His thumb rubbed over the incredibly soft skin of her hand. She had a little freckle on the knuckle of her ring finger. A wedding band would bump against the little beauty mark, maybe even hide it, he mused, and though it was such a fanciful thought, his ring on her finger, it felt righter than it should, so soon.

  “They would be so proud of the man you became,” she said.

  “I hope so,” he said, but he couldn’t stop himself about thinking about the last time he’d seen his brother.

  God, he hoped so.

  Five

  Nora

  Nora had no idea what to expect as the plane landed and she stepped onto the tarmac. The air was hot and dry, the flatness of their surroundings making the mountain girl within her search the horizon.

  “Are we… in the desert” she asked.

  Luke grinned, jerking his head toward a Jeep that was parked outside the private airstrip. “C’mon.”

  “I’ve gotta say, this is the most mysterious second date I’ve ever been on,” Nora said as they walked toward the Jeep. Her heart skipped a beat when his hand slipped into hers, easy and effortless, like it was where it belonged.

  Stop being so fanciful! You’re high on his hot sweetness.

  She couldn’t believe she’d shown him one of her pieces. Especially from the Red Dust sequence, which was some of her most raw work. But once again, Luke had both surprised and drawn her in with his understanding of the emotion behind the piece.

  “I can’t even get one hint?” she asked, shooting him a teasing smile. It was really kind of marvelous, how comfortable she felt with him. She liked how much he made her laugh, how he made her want to tease him.

  “We’re taking a little trip into the desert,” he said, dropping her hand to pull the keys to the Jeep from his jeans pocket..

  She shrugged her checked flannel shirt off her shoulders; the air was warm enough for her to ditch it. She looked up from tying it around her waist, realizing he was watching, and the heat in his eyes sent a little shock through her.

  She smiled, with a lot more bravado than she actually felt. “Are you just going to stare?”

  At this invitation, he closed the space between them in three steps, but the kiss he placed on her lips was anything but urgent.

  It was slow and soft, like he’d been thinking about it ever since the first one, like he wanted to memorize the shape of her mouth. His thumb stroked the curve of her jaw, and her lips parted beneath his. She just sighed into him, her entire body, and it felt like what she always thought being cherished would feel like.

  When they parted, his hand was still cupping her face. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all week,” he murmured, sending a wash of heat across her already-pink face.

  “Was it worth the wait?” she asked, unable to stop sounding positively breathless, like she was about to swoon.

  Heck, she might. After that kiss, her knees were more than a little wobbly.

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes still so damn hot she felt like he could see right through her clothes. “I have a feeling you’re always worth the wait,” he said.

  “Tell me that when we’re twenty minutes late for a movie because I can’t find my purse,” she said, and he laughed, reaching over and opening the passenger door of the Jeep for her.

  As they drove to wherever they were going—he still wouldn’t tell her—they played their own personal game of twenty questions. She found out he hated grapes and would eat his weight in scalloped potatoes if given the chance. They covered his childhood obsession with Johnny Cash (“Okay, maybe that one didn’t remain in childhood,” he admitted with a grin. “I’ve got one of his guitars.”) and his addiction to pretzels dipped in Trader Joe’s Cookie Butter. And his favorite author.

  “Agatha Christie, really?” she asked.

  “You sound surprised,” he said as they drove down a long stretch of highway through the desert. The gorgeous red-brown mesas were staggering in their beauty. Her fingers itched for her camera.

  “Most guys who like mysteries go for Arthur Conan Doyle,” she pointed out.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I love Sherlock Holmes,” he said. “But Agatha had more range. She even wrote some romance novels under another name.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Nora said. “I’ll have to look them up.”

  They passed a mile marker, and Luke slowed the Jeep down, turning onto the shoulder and coming to a stop.

  Nora frowned. “Are we here?” she asked.

  “Almost,” he said. “But first.” He reached over to the glove compartment, pulling out a silk scarf.

  Nora raised an eyebrow. “I don’t let men tie me up on the second date, Stone.”

  He burst out laughing. “Nothing kinky,” he said. “Just a precautionary blindfold. But about a quarter of a mile up, we’ll pass a sign that’ll spoil your surprise. So… humor me?”

  “Is this where you ask me to trust you?” she asked, as she watched him run the scarf through his fingers.

  He shook his head, his dark eyes growing serious. “Trust is earned,” he said, and the way he said it sent shivers through her body. Like it was some sort of vow, something sacred. “But I promise, no funny business.”

  She took the scarf from his hands, tying it neatly over her eyes. “Onward, Poirot,” she said, using the last name of one of Agatha Christie’s most famous detective characters, and she couldn’t see it because of the blindfold, but she knew he was smiling as he pulled back onto the highway.

  Ten minutes later, she could feel they were slowing to a stop. She waited, her stomach jumpy with excitement and curiosity, as Luke got out of the Jeep.

  “Okay, careful,” he said, as his hands slipped into hers, and he guided her out of the car. “We’re going to walk this way. Step up.”

  She stepped up onto the curb of wherever they were. “I must look ridiculous,” she said, as they began to walk. She could feel pavement under her hiking boots, and there was a slight wind against her cheeks, the sun
warming them as they walked.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his words so sincere she could practically feel it in his touch.

  “You just say that to all the girls you fly into the desert,” she said.

  Your ability to make corny jokes at any moment is not a gift, Nora, she told herself sternly, but he was chuckling.

  “You’re the only one I’ve ever flown anywhere,” he said, and it should’ve sounded like a line, especially because she couldn’t see his face when he said it, but…

  But Nora was quickly coming to the realization that Lucas Stone didn’t do lines. He didn’t do games.

  He was the kind of man who went after what he wanted. And for some reason, for right now, he seemed to want her.

  “Okay,” he squeezed her fingers, making a little thrill run through her body. “Right here.” He tugged her forward gently, and she stumbled a bit, leaning into him as his hand settled on her lower back. God, why did that feel so good? It was such a simple gesture, but it was so comforting, like he had her back, no matter what.

  “Ready?” he asked, and she could feel his fingers resting on the knot keeping the scarf over her eyes. She nodded.

  The silk loosened and then pulled free of her eyes. She blinked as they adjusted to the light, looking around.

  They were in the desert, the mesas, cactus, and desert shrubs spread out across the landscape. She looked quizzically at Luke, not understanding.

  “Look down,” he directed.

  She did, and laughed. A joyous, surprised sound as it clicked.

  They were standing on a seal, set in the ground, and the words FOUR STATES HERE MEET IN FREEDOM UNDER GOD surrounding them.

  “Welcome to the Four Corners,” Luke said. “You’re standing in four states at once. A truly impossible thing, except for in this particular place.” He pointed to each part of the circle. “New Mexico. Colorado. Utah. Arizona.”

  Nora looked up at him, a feeling she had never felt, that she could barely recognize, bubbling in her chest. She didn’t know what to do with such a feeling, with such happiness and sparkly joy, so she did the only thing she could think of doing: she reached up, her arms wrapping around his neck, and she kissed him, unable to stop herself.

  She kissed him as they stood there, their feet planted in more places than should be possible, the beauty of the desert around them.

  And for a second, she thought an even more impossible thing: This is the kind of man who loves you forever.

  Six

  Luke

  Luke watched as Nora stood in the desert breeze, snapping photos of the mesa’s distant cliffs and crags.

  Taking her to the Four Corners had been in his mind ever since he got the idea of doing some impossible things with her. He’d been here only once before, on a family trip when he and Devlin were kids.

  It had been the right instinct, bringing her here. The smile on her face when she’d looked down at the seal, realizing where they were, had been beatific. And the kiss that had followed?

  She was irresistible. So irresistible that every second, he was rethinking his commitment not to join the mile-high club so early in the relationship.

  As her dark hair whipped behind her in the wind, he couldn’t resist sliding his hands around her waist, his chin hooking over her shoulder as she focused her phone’s camera. It pleased him more than anything that she didn’t startle or wiggle in his casual embrace, but instead leaned a little into him, so the curve of her hip brushed against him.

  She flipped the camera and the two of them came into focus on the phone’s screen. He stuck his tongue out at her and she giggled, snapping a picture of the two of them, her nose scrunched up in laughter, his eyes a little too big, his tongue still out.

  Their first picture together. Silly and imperfect and more than a little wonderful.

  “You’ve gotta send me that one,” he told her.

  “Definitely,” she said, flipping the camera back so she could focus on the landscape and the setting sun. “The light’s almost right,” she said, her voice dipping, like she was afraid if she spoke too loudly, it would vanish. “It’s magic hour.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “This is my favorite time,” she said, still hushed. “Everything goes golden and red and orange out here. In Portland, it’s more muted. The light shines through the mist or rain or clouds, so there’s a gray or pink cast. But here?” She trailed off, entranced by the light hitting the mesas and rock formations, spreading across the desert. “It’s endless,” she finally said. “It goes on forever.”

  I want this to go on forever, he thought, but he said nothing, just watched her watching the light, snapping photos from time to time, until the sun had set.

  As they drove back, heading toward the tarmac and home, he thought he’d never seen anything so perfect as Nora in the sunlight, as Nora in her element, capturing the beauty of the world, the light racing across the desert like a sorceress in a tale of old.

  It was late by the time they got back to Portland. As Luke walked her up to her third-floor apartment, he found himself not wanting to let go of her hand.

  “I’d invite you in,” she said. “But Holly’s probably standing in there with a glass pressed against the door.”

  Was it just his imagination or did he hear a muffled thump coming from Nora’s apartment? Her rueful smile told him she’d heard it, too.

  “I’d like to meet your other friends sometime,” he said.

  A smile flickered across her face, that smile she got when he’d done something that surprised her. He was starting to recognize it. He liked that. “You would?”

  “I want to know everything about you,” he said.

  She bit her lip, her big eyes sweeping down to the ground. “If I Were a Carpenter.”

  He was the one a little surprised now. “The Tim Hardin song?” he asked.

  “Well, my favorite version is Johnny Cash—. The version with him and June.”

  His smile grew and he looped his arm around her waist, bringing her close to him. She smelled like some sort of flower—he wasn’t sure which one, not lavender or rose or anything ordinary. This was softer, a delicate scent that was teasing and alluring.

  Her hand pressed against his chest, above his heart, and the simple gesture sent blood rushing down.

  “I want to take you home and stretch you out on my bed and not leave for a week,” he rumbled, his voice barely recognizable even to himself.

  She sucked in a soft breath, her fingers curling at his words, fisting in his shirt as she swayed into him. “I… I told you I don’t let men tie me up on the second date,” she said, a little breathless and clearly a lot turned on.

  “How about the third one?” he asked, and she burst into giggles, leaning into him even more.

  He smiled, loving how damn cute she was. Having her in his bed, in his arms… it was going to be incredible.

  But having her in his life was just as important. And that took commitment. Time.

  Trust.

  And trust has to be earned.

  Seven

  Nora

  “Whoo, boy,” Holly sing-songed as soon as Nora closed the apartment door and Luke’s footsteps faded down the hallway. “That was a long goodbye.”

  Nora turned scarlet, her lips feeling a little sensitive still from the deep, prolonged kisses that had just happened in the hall.

  Holly leaned against the kitchen doorway, a bowl of cereal in her hands. In her typical Holly fashion, she managed to look adorable even though it was ten at night and she was just hanging out at home. She had on a lace-edged lilac satin sleep romper—probably her own design—and a pink cotton eyelet robe thrown over that. Nora sat down on the couch and watched as her roommate skipped over to the sage green chaise, and settled in it with her cereal.

  “Okay,” Holly said. “Spill.”

  “Holly…” Nora scolded.

  “Nora…” Holly shot back. “I haven’t had a date in months!
Margaux’s been married forever, and so have both my sisters. I need vicarious thrills! Also, you’ve been gone all day.”

  “He took me somewhere impossible,” Nora said, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. She still couldn’t quite believe he’d gone to all that effort to create such a special moment. It was the sweetest, most extravagant thing anyone had ever done for her.

  “Now you’re not even making sense,” Holly sighed.

  Nora laughed, and explained about the Four Corners, and then Holly was sighing for another reason.

  “That is so romantic,” she said. “That’s way better than the book.”

  “The book is amazing!” Nora protested. She had paged through it each night since he’d sent it, tracing the pages, feeling silly as the thought about him doing the same before he sent it to her.

  She got up and fixed herself her own bowl of Captain Crunch—she’d be healthy tomorrow—and sat back down with Holly.

  “So this is big,” Holly said. “Like, this might be it?”

  “No,” Nora said automatically, because who thought the guy was it after two dates? It had taken her years to think Gregory was.

  That’s because Gregory wasn’t it for you—or for anyone, because he’s a cheating ass.

  “I mean…” Nora paused, not knowing what to say as Holly stopped eating her Captain Crunch and raised a delicate honey-colored brow.

  “Sweetie, this guy flew you on his private jet to a state park just so you could stand in four places at once,” Holly said. “He sent you an old book that basically turned you into a heart emoji personified. He’s pulling out all the stops, Nora-style. He is into you. Like, majorly. Which means he has good taste. And he’s Margaux approved. If he isn’t on your it list, he should be.”

  “I…” Nora started to say, but then there was a knock on the door.