Light Me Up

by Isabel Sharpe

  He brushed something off her shirt. “Would you like to go sit on the beach and watch the sunset with me? We got cheated out of our afterglow here.”

  More beaming. She wasn’t ready to let this day with him end yet. “I would love to.”

  “I’ve got sandwiches and a bottle of decent wine.”

  “That sounds really nice, Jack.” She was touched, very touched. He’d planned, organized, prepared for their time together. Not what she expected from a player.

  Yeah, well, maybe she needed to worry less about what she expected from his “type” and concentrate more on who he really was. Ya think, Melissa? It might feel safer to cram Jack into a neat little box, but it wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, and it wasn’t nearly as much fun.

  Barbara would say Melissa was being naive. Surprisingly, she didn’t care.

  They found a beautiful spot near the entrance to the park on a just-abandoned bench—debatable whether the thin stretch of muddy rocks deserved the term beach—with a stunning view of Lake Washington. Off in the distance Mount Rainier’s snowy top poked through the cloud line. Jack had retrieved a cooler from his car containing thick roast beef sandwiches, chips and a nice Washington State sauvignon blanc.

  They sat eating and sipping, watching the sky, lake and mountain colors change as the sun dipped lower.

  “This is wonderful, Jack.” Melissa sighed contentedly. “I feel so relaxed.”

  “Good sex will do that.”

  She threw him a smile, and almost couldn’t look away. The man was stunning, the breeze occasionally lifting a tousled lock off his smooth forehead. She wanted to photograph him, be able to look at him this way whenever she wanted. Which would be embarrassingly often. More than just looking, she also wanted to tell him everything about herself, and to learn everything about him.

  “I’ve been lying to you, Jack.”

  “Uh-oh. You’re really a man?”

  She laughed. “I’m not really calm. I have hypertension. I’ve been fighting it for months. That’s why I’m taking yoga. When you said you picked me to model because I was serene, I nearly died laughing.”

  “But you are.” He looked genuinely surprised. “You’re very centered, very solid.”

  “Recently, yes. Right now my blood pressure is so low I bet if I stood up I’d pass out.”

  “Good sex will do that.”

  She giggled. “Where have I heard that before?”

  “No idea.” He reached into the cooler, brought out the bottle of wine. “Sex and yoga, but I bet posing for me also helps. In front of the camera, you’re not involved in real life or ordinary stresses. You’re just being, down to your most elemental.”

  “As Eve.”

  “Sure. Or a nymph. Or Venus. Or whoever. Ironic, isn’t it?” He offered her more wine, poured carefully as she held out her glass. “In trying to be someone else you’ve probably come closer to being yourself.”

  “Hmm. My sister said my blood pressure was up because I’ve been trying to be someone I’m not.”

  “Your sister sounds like a wise woman.” He put the bottle back in the cooler.

  “What about you?” She raised her glass to him. “You’re more yourself behind a camera, too, you know.”

  “Me?” He looked at her in pretend astonishment, then his face cleared. “Oh, you mean I’m even more amazing?”

  “You have two distinct personalities.” She put her drink down and curled up on the bench, hugging her knees. “No, three. One, the glib charmer.”

  “Glib!” He put a hand to his chest and addressed a nearby seagull. “She thinks I’m glib. Can you believe that?”

  Melissa looked at him speculatively. “I’m guessing that’s your way of hiding your real self while staying invulnerable to—”

  “Oh, no.” He shook his head, waggled his finger at her. “Not the I-know-you-better-than-you-know-yourself speech.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry. Wasn’t that you telling me just now I’m more Eve the Tree Nymph than Melissa?”

  “D’oh.” He winced. “You got me.”

  “Personality number two.” She held up two fingers. “The grumpy old man. Or toddler. Cranky when you’re frustrated.”

  “Not cranky. When I’m frustrated I get frustrated. In a very masculine and mature way.”

  “And three.” She sent him a provocative smile. “My favorite. The intense sexy artist.”

  “Speaking of sexy.” He leaned over and kissed her. Then again. And another. “You know, most women think I’m sexy when I’m being the charmer.”

  “Ha! I am not most women.” She meant the words playfully, but he didn’t smile.

  “I’m beginning to realize that.”

  “No, no.” She felt her cheeks flame and hoped he’d mistake the blush for sunlight. “I was kidding.”

  “I know. But it’s true.” He picked up his glass again, draped an arm around her. She didn’t know when she’d felt this happy and deliciously out of worries. Probably not since her mother had been alive. “You have three personalities, too.”

  She grimaced comically. “I was afraid of this.”

  “One, the chilly office lady.” He shuddered.

  “Brisk as the north wind?”

  “And twice as frigid.”

  “Hey.”

  He gave her a kiss her glare had no chance of surviving. “Two, the lost and uncertain child.”

  “Child? You just made love to a child?”

  “Oh, no.” He leaned over and pressed another kiss to the back of her neck, one of her favorite spots. “That was the sexual goddess.”

  “Mmm, thank you. I like that third one.” She made herself frown thoughtfully, bursting inside with happiness at the label. With Jack she felt exactly like a goddess. He brought out parts of her she didn’t know she had. “But wait, wasn’t this supposed to be your compliment hour?”

  “You’ve given me plenty.” He put their wine down, reached over and lifted her onto his lap. “We should go soon, but come here.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, leaned her head against his shoulder, inhaling the sweet lake air, thinking about what had happened in the woods. To him. To her. To them. “Tell me something, Jack.”

  “Mmm?”

  “What made you become a photographer? Was it something you were born to do? Or something outside you that drew you in?”

  “Hmm, good question.” She felt his body tense under hers and held still, wondering what demons he was wrestling with and whether he’d tell her. “Best I can come up with is that having grown up in a fairly dysfunctional family, I took on the role of observer.”

  “Safer than being part of the mess?”

  “Yup.” He spoke haltingly, not in his usual smooth way. Melissa’s heart added a new sensation: pain on his behalf. “It was mostly my dad. He felt saddled with my brother and me, never wanted a family, never loved my mother. All of which would have been sad but okay if he’d either shut up about it and accepted his responsibilities, or exited gracefully at the beginning. Instead he hung around for a decade or so making sure we all knew we were the source of his very loud and very bitter unhappiness.”

  “Oh, my God, Jack. What a burden on you.”

  “It was not the most fun.” His arms tightened around her; she wasn’t sure he realized he was doing it. “He left right after my mom got laid off. Disappeared while we were at school and she was out on an interview. He took as much as he could fit in his car. We never heard from him again, not that any of us wanted to. Asshole to the very end.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Me, too, sometimes. Other times I think, okay, it could have been better, but it also could have been worse. I’m not the only one with problems. You lost your mom. That was hard, too.”

  “It was.” Her voice thickened. Even after all this time it was rough talking about her mother. “She was the heart of our family. Her death changed everything. You know what that’s like. It’s hard to learn so youn
g that bad things happen. I used to hear my girlfriends complaining about their mothers not letting them buy this or that, or go here or there, and it just about killed me. I would have loved to have a mom to hate.”

  He stroked her hair. “I guess we both had to grow up too fast. Probably why you try to mother your sister.”

  “Nah.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m just a bossy control freak.”

  He chuckled. “A very sexy, very beautiful bossy control freak.”

  Probably ten of the most glorious minutes happened next, spent kissing, kissing more and then kissing again. Kissing Jack Shea during a sunset on a lovely summer evening would go down in the record books as the very, very best way possible to spend time.

  “This has been a...perfect evening, Jack.” She leaned against his shoulder to hide the emotion threatening to hijack her cool. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll do it again.” He pressed his cheek to her hair, which made her heart go soft and melty. “Remember, we’re going to have to spend a lot of time together.”

  She lifted her face to show him how big her smile was at that thought. Gretchen had said Melissa was a little bit in love with Jack. At the time she’d scoffed. How could that be true? Tonight, here, it felt as if it was. As if she were truly a little bit in love with him. Only a little.

  But in very big danger of falling the rest of the way.

  11

  “WELL, LOOK WHO’S HERE.” Seth hoisted his beer to Jack, smirking.

  “Coming up for air?” Angela smiled sweetly, fingers laced with Daniel’s as they sat pressed together on the futuristic black-and-white love seat in the Come to Your Senses common room.

  “Jack, right? Jack Shea?” Bonnie pointed to him triumphantly. “I knew you looked familiar.”

  Jack rolled his eyes good-naturedly, heading for the refrigerator. He’d been working every spare second with Melissa for the past two weeks, and had had a feeling he’d be in for this when he finally met up with his friends. “You are looking at an artist who’s been hard at work.”

  “An artist who’s been hard at something.”

  “Seth!” Angela shook her head at him, giggling. “How’s the series coming, Jack?”

  “How is your model coming, Jack?”

  “Seth!” Bonnie could barely hold back her laughter. “You need to behave or leave the room.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” He put the bottle to his lips, cocky grin in place as usual. “Seriously, Jack, tell us. Are you shooting well?”

  Bonnie socked him on the shoulder and pointed to the exit. “Go.”

  “What?” He feigned innocence as only Seth could. “I’m interested in his work.”

  “Honestly.” Bonnie pretended utter disgust, but was unable to hide a rogue giggle. “The man puts a love song up on YouTube and he thinks he owns the world.”

  “Don’t tell them that.” Seth looked mortified.

  “Oh, why, because YouTube is so private?” She socked him again, with affection this time. “I think it’s great.”

  “Seth, that is great.” Angela gave him a virtual high five from her seat across the room. “We should bring in someone’s laptop and listen.”

  “I think we were talking about Jack.” Seth gestured toward him. “Right, Jack? Your work?”

  “It’s going well.” That was a classic understatement. The sessions with Melissa had been an emotional, physical and mental workout, but supremely satisfying on all counts. Jack had gone deeper than he ever had on all three levels, and yeah, Seth would have a field day with that one, too. “Though not the way I expected.”

  “No?” Angela turned from gazing at Daniel. Jack yanked out a beer. The way Angela adored her boyfriend made Jack miss Melissa, and he didn’t like missing women. Loving them when he was with them, getting on with life when he wasn’t: that had always worked for him.

  It wasn’t working so well now.

  “How has it been unexpected?” Bonnie asked.

  “More of a collaboration instead of just my ideas.” He made sure he looked casual, no stars in his eyes, no tell-tale bulge in his shorts. Truth was, Jack was high on pretty much everything, and he wasn’t talking about drugs. He hadn’t realized how much of his father’s life-sucks-then-you-die philosophy he’d internalized until Melissa offered him all this plain old fun. “Melissa’s my muse as well as my model.”

  “How great that you two work so well together.” Angela smiled too sweetly. “And are you...getting along otherwise?”

  Beside her, Daniel chuckled. “Was that too subtle, Jack?”

  “What?” Angela pretended to be mystified. “I just asked if they were enjoying each other’s company.”

  “We know what you were asking.” Daniel soothed her with a brief kiss.

  “We all wanted to ask the same thing.” Bonnie patted the couch next to her. “So, Jack, if it’s not too personal, tell us something of what’s happening. And if it is too personal, then tell us absolutely everything.”

  He took his time settling onto the couch. “You think that’s any of your business?”

  “Yes.” The entire room answered his question.

  He cracked up, popped the top off his beer and took a long, refreshing swig. “I think we should hear a few Seattledates stories first.”

  “Oh, what a good idea.” Seth looked viciously triumphant. “Why should we be the only ones publicly disemboweled?”

  “Let’s see.” Bonnie put a finger to her cheek, looking prim. “Would you like to hear about the guy who sent me the twenty-nine-page story of his life? Or the one who asked me out and then when I said yes, disappeared? Or, no, how about the guy who in his second email described seeing his father naked in the hospital?”

  “Oh, no, Bonnie.” Angela nudged herself closer to Daniel, clutching his arm. “They can’t all be that bad.”

  “Or maybe they can.” Seth waggled his eyebrows.

  “So far they are, but I’m still very optimistic.” Bonnie spoke pointedly, glancing at Seth, then turned to Jack. “That was my gut-spilling duty. Your turn, Jack, and no backing out.”

  “You were about to tell us how it’s going with Melissa,” Angela prompted.

  “Melissa...is a great person, a good friend, and we are getting along fine.”

  Silence, while his friends exchanged glances.

  “He’s getting some,” Seth said.

  “Dude.” Daniel nodded. “Is he ever.”

  “We’re happy for you both,” Angela added primly. “And we want detailed pictures of every position.”

  Jack shook his head, laughing with the rest of them. His friends might resort to comedy routines to express support, but their affection was sincere, and he was grateful.

  “So, old man, now that you’re hooked, when’s the wedding?” Seth toasted him with his beer. “You’d better hire a photographer soon. I hear those guys book up quickly.”

  “Oh, Melissa would make a gorgeous bride. She’s so beautiful alread—ow.” Angela glared at Daniel, who removed his hand from her neck, shaking his head.

  “She’d be a stunning bride.” Bonnie gazed dreamily off into space. “I can see her with pink sweetheart roses. Maybe one in her hair. We can put a picture of her on my website. I can blog about—”

  “Yeah, I think you can save those fantasies for another millennium.” Jack rubbed his jaw impatiently. This time the teasing was getting to him.

  He looked forward equally to the art he and Melissa collaborated on, the passionate lovemaking and the quiet times when they sat or lay together and talked, got a bite to eat or went for a walk when they needed a break from the sessions. He’d never realized how many barriers existed between him and the women he was with until he’d found one who didn’t put any up.

  Melissa was tearing his down, too, and he didn’t like it. She was incredibly fun to be with. Intelligent, thoughtful, sweet, sassy, but no part of his life felt like his own anymore. She’d sneaked into every corner, like wafts of some fragrance that enters your house and ends u
p taking such deep root in your olfactory system that you smell it even when the source is gone.

  Doubtless his emotions for Melissa were intensified by the way she’d become so tangled in his art and in his creative process. But that was a hell of a long way from worrying about a life commitment. He wasn’t even comfortable going to her sister’s wedding. Something about the occasion brought out the romantic in women. All you had to do was look at the dreamy look on Bonnie and Angela’s faces to prove his point. Who knew how Melissa would react? Jack had made it clear he was working the wedding in return for her contribution to his series, period. Just because Melissa would be there and he would be there didn’t mean the event had turned into anything other than his next job.

  “Can I join you guys?” Demi walked into the room, arms folded.

  “Only if you take my side against these vultures.” Jack stood. “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Thanks, Jack.” She sat in the rocking chair, looking ill at ease.

  Jack squeezed Bonnie’s shoulder in a pointed message to stop scowling at their least social business partner.

  “How’s the new table working out?” Seth asked.

  “Oh, fine.” She smiled faintly at him. “The old one was secondhand, in sad shape. It was my first table.”

  “When did you start massage therapy?” Jack broke the few seconds of awkward silence on his way to the fridge. The last thing Demi needed was to feel as if her presence inhibited the rest of them. She’d never show up again.

  “In college. That table’s seen a lot of use.”

  “Okay, I want to know who that guy is who went to see you yesterday, at about ten.” Angela fanned herself. “And what body part did you get to work on?”

  “Hey.” Daniel pretended to be hurt. “You’re not supposed to notice other men anymore.”

  “Oh, right. And you’ll stop watching Jessica Alba movies now?”

  “Oh.” He looked comically crushed. “Well, uh...”

  “Case rested.” Angela kissed his cheek. “Demi?”

  “You must mean Colin.”

  “Firth? Farrell?” Seth asked.

  “Even hotter.” Angela patted her fiancé’s knee. “Though of course he’s not nearly as hot as you are, Daniel.”