My Image of You

by Melanie Moreland

  “Unnecessary guilt.”

  “True. But it’s been shoved down her throat so long she believes it. But I hope soon she can break free of all that. I think perhaps you may be the key.”

  “I want to look after her.”

  “That’s my second favor.”

  “What?”

  “I’m old, dear boy. Getting older by the day, and I’m getting tired. I miss Theo. One day, in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be gone. I want you to promise you’ll look after her. If I know she’s all right, then it will bring me some peace.”

  I swallowed the thickness in my throat. “You have my word. But please, Elena. Stick around. Ally loves you and I think you’re fucking amazing. I want to spend years getting to know you. Not months.”

  She smiled at me—a wide, beaming smile that made me smile back.

  “You remind me of my Theo—dirty mouth and all. God, I loved that man. I’ll do my best, boy. We’ll each keep our end of the bargain, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I hope you brought some cash, young man. I feel like playing poker and I don’t take candy.”

  I chuckled and dug into my pocket for the rolls of coins. Ally had warned me—Elena liked to play poker. She donated all the money to an animal shelter and expected her guests to do the same.

  “You’re on, old woman. But I warn you, I play to win.”

  “That is exactly why I like you.”

  I nodded, smirking. I liked her, too.

  Those flowers were going to start arriving this week.

  Chapter 13

  I shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to yank on my tie. I picked up my scotch, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat. I was tempted to order an entire bottle—it might make this fucking evening bearable.

  Ally squeezed my hand under the table, and I focused my attention on her. The lines of tension around her eyes were clear.

  Previously, I had joined her parents for dinner at a benefit. I had attended an uncomfortable Sunday brunch. Tonight we’d invited them to dinner at the most sought-after restaurant in town. The waiting list was long, and exclusive. I had called in many favors, and got a reservation. I thought that, at least, would impress them. My charm and smile certainly didn’t seem to be doing the job. Every time they saw me it was as if they were smelling something rank. I was a threat to them. They had no desire to get to know me, and they made that clear. I wasn’t from their world of wealth and privilege; the fact I had money didn’t make me acceptable. It didn’t matter how expensive my suit was, or the fact it covered my ink, they let me know they knew what lay underneath the finely cut cloth.

  The entire evening had been a repeat of our other encounters. Ronald baited me, constantly trying to trip me up as he spoke of stocks and business. Sarah ignored me, sitting with a bored, dismissive look on her face. I tried to engage her, ask about her charities, or Ally as a child, but her answers were brief and cold. They never asked about me or my life, unless it was a barely veiled jibe about my “pictures” or the frequent times I wasn’t home.

  “Hardly conducive to stability,” Sarah stated, her cold gaze meeting mine. “No foundation, really.”

  “Mother, stop,” Ally insisted. “He does make me happy. His career is important. We make it work.”

  Sarah’s look said it all. My career was nothing. I was nothing, and Ally’s words fell on deaf ears.

  I shifted my chair closer to Ally and ran my knuckles down her cheek. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?”

  She smiled. “Not in the past ten minutes, no.”

  I leaned over and brushed a kiss to her cheek. “How remiss of me. You are lovely.”

  I could almost hear Sarah gnashing her teeth. I relished making them cringe with my shows of affection for Ally, and my effusive praise of how wonderful and perfect she was. I refused to let them intimidate me or dictate how I acted around my girl. She was what counted, not them.

  On the way home, Ally squeezed my hand. “No more dinners.”

  “Was I that bad?”

  I did like to goad them. They pissed me off so much with their attitude.

  She shook her head. “No, they were. I won’t let them taunt or talk down to you anymore.”

  I loosened my tie, pulling at it gratefully. I hated wearing one. “I do it for you. I’ll keep doing it until they crack.”

  “They won’t crack. And frankly, I don’t care if they do anymore. I tried. You tried.”

  I loved hearing her say those words. To know their opinion was becoming less important. The thought of not having to spend another evening in their cold company filled me with relief. “You sure?”

  “Yes. When you’re home and there’s a benefit, I’d like it if you came with me, though.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She shifted in the seat. “Then that’s that.”

  “We should celebrate.”

  She laughed. “The end of your torture?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I had the sudden desire to hold her in my arms. “I know a place—great drinks, music, dancing. Can I interest you?”

  “I’d love that!”

  “Me, too.”

  We stumbled into the loft at two o’clock in the morning, after dancing for hours, leaving the tension of the night behind us. I’d left the car parked at the club and we took a cab home. We made out all the way home in the backseat and in the elevator up to the loft. I could hardly wait to get her naked.

  Pieces of our clothes were strewn around the floor as we made our way to the bed. I growled low as I saw the lacy blue lingerie she was wearing under her pretty dress. I planned on peeling it off her smooth skin—with my teeth.

  She giggled and I grinned, realizing I’d said that out loud. Then I did exactly that.

  I hummed against her breasts, capturing a plump nipple in my mouth. She arched up with a low moan, making me hiss as her movement dragged her wetness along my cock, coating me with her want.

  “Fuck, what you do to me,” I groaned as I slid through her heat. I stilled at the completeness of being buried inside her. Every time was like the first, a feeling I never wanted to lose.

  She flexed, her body surrounding me.

  I thrust slowly, deeply, taking my time with her. These moments were so perfect—joined with her in the most intimate of ways. I leisurely rocked, our bodies melded, skin against skin, never apart. A long shiver ran down my spine at her closeness.

  I took her mouth, our tongues sliding, mimicking our bodies. Languid, fluid, deep, and sensuous. I stayed locked inside her intimate embrace until we both shook with the force of release. Until she was limp and sated in my arms. She rested against my chest, idly tracing her finger over my skin.

  “Did I tell you Emma called?”

  “Oh?”

  “She’s in town, so we’re going to have lunch. You want to join us?”

  “How about I drop you off and have coffee, then leave you to it?”

  “Are you sure?”

  I dropped a kiss on her head. “You haven’t seen her in a while. You two need to catch up. I’m not overly interested in girl talk.”

  She laughed. “Okay, but I know she wants to meet you. She’s heard lots about you.”

  I grinned. “Bragging, are you? How sexy I am, how good in bed, my incredible looks?”

  She huffed, the air drifting over my skin. “More like how bossy you are, the fact you can’t find the laundry basket, and have no idea what a towel rack is for.”

  Laughter rumbled through my chest and I pressed a kiss to her head. “Whatever, Ally. You know you can’t resist me.”

  “Just keeping it real.”

  “That’s my girl. Now go to sleep.”

  “See? Bossy,” she mumbled sleepily.

  I grinned against her head. She was right.

  —

  Emma Jones was tall, with intelligent dark eyes, and her fondness for my girl
was evident. We sized each other up, both cautious, then she smiled.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Adam.”

  “Same here,” I replied, shaking her hand.

  “Ally said you were hot.”

  I grinned, leaning back. “Did she now?”

  Ally groaned. “Not you, too. Elena already fills his head with compliments.”

  I bent close to her ear. “Already talking about my filled head, Ally? You’re making me blush.”

  Emma burst out laughing, and I had to chuckle. Ally tried to ignore me.

  “I have some news,” Emma announced. “I’m selling my stores.”

  “Why?” gasped Ally.

  “The offer is too good to pass up. They’ll still carry my clothes, but they’ll run them, and I can concentrate on my designs. With Alan’s new job he’s traveling a lot, I’m traveling—we never see each other. This is a good compromise.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Life is too short to be apart that much.”

  I felt Ally tense beside me. I knew she was already thinking of the next time I was called away, and dreading it. I hadn’t told her Sean had texted while she was in the shower, warning me about a massive weather system being tracked. If it continued inland, I’d be leaving tonight. I needed to check with him, then break the news to my girl.

  I let them talk for a while, then stood. “Ladies, I’m going to go do some errands and leave you to catch up.”

  Ally frowned. “You don’t have to go. You could eat with us.”

  I leaned down, kissing her forehead. “But I do. I saw the girly shit on the menu for lunch. No tofu for me.” At her chuckle, I brushed a finger down her cheek. “Besides, I know you’re dying to brag more about my, ah, head.” I winked. “Have some time with your friend.”

  Emma held out her hand. “I’ll drop her off when we’re done.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Nice to meet you, Adam. Keep up the good work. I’ve never seen Alex look so happy.”

  I smiled as I shook her hand, already knowing Ally wouldn’t look so happy in a few hours.

  And I hated it.

  —

  “D49.” The attendant handed me the keys. I located the car and threw my stuff into the back, anxious to get on the road. I’d been away for over a week, and when the plane for the last leg of the trip was delayed due to mechanical failure, I decided I couldn’t wait another whole day before seeing Ally, so I rented a car, planning on driving the final six hours to get home. It was far better than pacing around a hotel room or the airport.

  The miles passed as I mulled over thoughts of Ally and the far-too-frequent times I left her.

  I had always enjoyed my career; I liked the travel and adventure, and yes, I liked the dangerous aspect of it. But now when my phone rang with Sean’s ring tone, instead of the thrill of the next great shoot came the dread of saying goodbye to the woman I’d lost my heart to. The pain of leaving her behind each time grew more intense with each parting.

  The past couple of months, I was gone a lot. I was used to that happening, yet for the first time, I resented it. I loathed being away from Ally. I flew all over the globe, capturing storms, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, and even a volcano. Sometimes I got there while the event occurred, some I only arrived to photograph the aftermath. All were frightening, devastating, and captured by my lens. I was grateful to leave each place and head back to the place I now considered home—with her.

  If she was there when the call came, she helped me pack. I saw the shadow that would cross her face and the worry and sadness in her eyes, but she never once was anything but supportive. She would smooth and fold clothes into my bag as I gathered my equipment together. The first time I opened the zipper, I could smell her fresh scent within the case. It disappeared quickly, but I had her with me a little while longer. And there would always be a love note written on her pink paper, and a few grape suckers tucked in the corner.

  Our farewell kisses were long and deep, and I always knew the ache in my chest wouldn’t stop until she was once again in my arms. I tried to call and text, although often our time zones were so different all I got was her voicemail. Her texts, even if they were only a few words, kept me going, knowing that finally I had someone waiting for me to return. She was far better at keeping in touch—she would take funny pictures of her coffee or something she saw that amused her and share them with me. It made me feel closer to her and the life she led while I was gone.

  When I would get back, Ally loved to sit and pore over the photographs I took. She would curl onto my lap, studying the iPad, her finger swiping across the screen, and asking questions. She saw my work through different eyes, always finding moments of beauty on the images—the light amid the dark—people helping others, a rare smile when a person would find some precious article they thought was lost forever, or my camera would be clicking away at the perfect moment when the sun shone just right across a field of grass, or lowering into the ocean. Her good eye and quiet praise made me proud.

  Elena kept her promise and made sure to check in with her all the time. She told me now that Ally had me in her life, she felt easier about showing her affection, because she knew there was finally someone who would care for her, no matter what. Ronald’s implied threats were now becoming useless words, as his stranglehold on her life lessened. Even though her parents still dictated too much of her life, Ally was getting stronger, saying no more often, and standing up to them. We both saw the changes in her, and how their hold was slowly being eroded.

  When I was in town, I lost a lot of money to Elena’s cheating ways at poker. And I loved every minute of the time we would spend with her: sipping scotch, playing cards, and listening to her stories. I sought out different scotches in every country I went to, bringing her back some rare, exotic bottle to try. We would sip and discuss the complex flavors, while Ally would grin at us, enjoying her wine and pulling faces when I tried to get her to join us in our taste tests. She informed me the only time she liked the taste of scotch was when it lingered on my tongue and I kissed her. I made sure she got a taste every time. Several, in fact.

  Every time I was away I made it my mission to find her something and send it. More times than not, it had a nightingale theme. A beautifully carved wooden box I found in Thailand. A silver pendant with an oval disk—the nightingale form carved out of the silver—I saw in Japan. In Hawaii, I found a delicate gold and enamel necklace. I sent other things—a pretty porcelain tile or an exquisite pair of diamond earrings I had purchased on a layover in Brussels—but I knew how much the symbols of my name for her meant to each of us and I loved seeing her wear them.

  They were small tokens, feeble attempts to make up for the fact I wasn’t there with her.

  Flowers and presents—they were all I could give her, until I was able to give her what she truly wanted: a life with me, home, beside her. Not chasing images around the globe.

  I was waiting for her when she walked out of the hospital, the sky overcast and drizzling. Her head was down, her shoulders hunched against the weather when I called out to her. “Nightingale.”

  She looked up, her face transforming, as she flung herself into my open arms. I held her tight, lifting her feet right off the ground. Her face was buried in my neck and I felt the wet of her tears.

  “Hey, what’s this?” I asked quietly. “I’m fine. You know that.”

  “I missed you so much.”

  I kissed her head, inhaling her comforting scent. “I missed you. Can I take you home? Do you need anything from your place?”

  She tilted her head back. “I stayed at the loft a few times. I have some things there.”

  “I’d like it if you stayed all the time.”

  She cupped my face. “You look so tired.”

  “I drove all night to get to you.”

  “Adam!”

  I crushed her to me, burying my face into her neck. “I couldn’t wait to get back to you. I need to take you home to our bed. I want to fall asleep in y
our arms. Wake up beside you. I need that—I need you. Please tell me I can have it. Tell me everyone else can fuck off and I can have you today.”

  “Yes.”

  “They’ll come pick up the rental later. Will you follow me home?”

  Her voice was like music to my ears. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  My need was so great we barely got in the door and I had her in my arms. She stiffened as my fingers slipped below her waistband, tugging on the material to get her pants off. I needed to be buried inside her—deep inside her, and I needed it now. I frowned when I felt the edges of a bandage, and gently pulled down the fabric. A bandage covered the area below her hip bone.

  “You’re hurt?” I traced the edge of the bandage. “What happened, baby?”

  “I’m not hurt.”

  I looked up at her quizzically.

  “You came home early. I was going to surprise you. I got a tattoo.”

  My eyes widened. “You got a tattoo?” I repeated.

  She nodded. “I thought the bandage would be off and you’d see it…”

  I shook my head. “No. This is good—let me take it off.”

  Slowly, I peeled the bandage back, revealing her ink. Low on her hip, where only I would ever see it, was a small camera etched out over a swirl design. As I traced the design with my fingers, I realized my initials were woven into the swirl, over and again. She had marked herself with my name, and the love I had of photography.

  “Ally,” I breathed out.

  “Do you like it?”

  Bending low, I nuzzled the tender skin. “Yes.”

  “I was too scared to get it on my chest. I was so worried it would hurt too much and I wouldn’t be able to finish it.”

  “No, I like it here. Only I’ll see it. It’s mine.” I met her gaze. “You’re mine.”

  “I am,” she whispered.

  “Who did it?”

  “I found a business card on your desk. I called the guy and he said he did all your tattoos, so I went there.”

  I nodded. “Rod is great—his artwork of all my favorite legends is incredible. He worked on the designs for weeks. I’m glad you found his card.”