Break Through

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Break Through Page 10

by Amber Garza


  I glanced over at Carter, noticing he only had his camera and briefcase today. My stomach tightened, remembering Mom’s words. “Back to business, huh?” I hated how whiny my voice sounded, but I couldn’t help it.

  “I’m afraid so,” Carter said sourly. “Believe me, I’d love nothing more than to spend the day horsing around, but sometimes duty calls.”

  “Horsing around? I thought only old people used that phrase.” I giggled.

  Carter smiled. “Sorry. I spend a lot of time with my parents.”

  This surprised me. “You do?”

  He nodded. “They live down the street from me. My dad’s sick, so I help them out quite a bit.” He nudged me in the side, giving me a slight wink. “Not quite the riveting social life you thought I had, is it?”

  “No, it’s not,” I said honestly, sinking down onto one of the chairs on our back patio. The truth was that most of what I knew about Carter was speculation. Most of our conversations had been about me. But the more I learned about him, the more curious I became. I think I’d misjudged him on so many counts.

  Carter sat in the chair next to mine, setting his briefcase in his lap.

  “Have you always lived in Red Blossom?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “My parents moved here when I went to college.”

  “How long ago was that?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  Carter grinned. “Aspen, if you wanted to know how old I was, you could’ve just asked me.”

  My cheeks colored.

  “I’m teasing you.” He reached out and patted my leg in a reassuring manner. At least I think he meant it to be soothing. However, it had the opposite effect. His touch set me on fire. It definitely didn’t calm me. Still, I took labored breaths, willing my heart to steady. “I’m twenty-six.”

  Only one year older than I thought. Much to my disappointment, he pulled his hand back. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay focused. “When did you come here?”

  “I moved here when my dad got sick a couple of years ago.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He has a heart condition. Always has, but it’s getting worse.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  I liked that he didn’t try to downplay it like people often do in the midst of a crisis. They put on a brave face thinking that’s what’s expected. I used to try to do that when I first came back, but it didn’t help. Pretending everything is okay when it’s not doesn’t help you heal.

  “Oh. I brought you something.”

  I sat forward, expectantly. He tossed a photo to me. I caught it and then stared down at the dead flower. Placing a hand over my mouth, I smothered a laugh. “Oh, Carter. You’re right. I think a funeral is in order.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I’m afraid so. It’s time to say your goodbyes.”

  He snatched the photo back. “See? I told you that I should get artificial flowers.”

  “I see your point now,” I teased.

  “I brought you one other thing.” This time he handed the photo to me. When my gaze connected with it, I let out a little gasp.

  “It’s beautiful.” My fingers reached out and traced the glossy picture of a butterfly. Its wings were an array of bright colors.

  “I took it last night. The minute I saw it I thought of you.” He narrowed his eyes, glancing at the picture held between my fingers. “You know what I like about butterflies?”

  I looked at him, anxious to hear his answer.

  “That even though they start out as a caterpillar and then they’re bound in a cocoon, once they emerge they’re beautiful and free. They never go back to their cocoon or their measly beginnings. They never look back at all. They just fly, rarely ever touching the ground. And they’re elusive. Almost impossible to catch.”

  I fought back the emotion rising in my throat as I stared at the picture in my hand.

  “Keep it.” He winked. “As a reminder.”

  “Thank you.” Setting the picture down on the chair next to my leg, I wished I had adequate words for the gift that he gave me. I wondered if he understood the significance of what he had said. Did he understand me that well?

  Carter slid the notebook out of his briefcase and then grabbed a pen out. Then he pulled the lid off the pen and sat back in the chair. Gift-giving time was clearly over. Now it was time to get down to business. Apprehension filled me. It was the beginning of the end. “Ready to get started?”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” I snorted bitterly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mom told me about the article coming out next month.” Bending my head down, I picked at a thread on my jean shorts.

  “So you know this is our last interview.” He spoke slowly, unsure.

  “Yeah.” Lifting my head, I raised my brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He bit his lip, his gaze sliding over my shoulder. Clouds darkened his eyes like a storm raging.

  My heart sank. “Look, you could have told me. I’m not stupid. It’s not like I thought there was something else going on here. I know you’re just doing your job.” Spreading out my hands in my lap, I encouraged him to continue. “So, go ahead and finish so you can turn in your article and move on.”

  Carter’s eyebrows knit together. Shoving the notebook and pen off his lap, he stood. I flinched when he lowered himself down on the edge of my chair and scooped up my hands, holding them in his. “Is that what you think? That this has been nothing more than a job to me?”

  I sucked in a breath, nodding slowly. “Isn’t it?”

  He threaded our fingers together, binding us. Even though he gripped tightly, I didn’t feel scared. I felt safe. His skin was soft, his palm moist as it rubbed against mine. “Do you know why so many magazines and publications hire me, Aspen?”

  Pressing my lips together, I shook my head.

  “It’s because I’m good at my job.” He scooted over a little and our thighs touched. Our hands remained knotted between us. “Not only do I take good pictures, but I do it fast. I never stay at one location for more than a day. I’m in and out. I get my pictures and then take off.” He paused, his eyes searching mine. “Until I met you.”

  I ceased breathing. No air escaped through my lips or pushed through my lungs. I hung on his every word as if my life depended on it. As if his words were oxygen.

  “I was intrigued from the moment I snapped your picture. It wasn’t enough to have you on film, I wanted to have you in real life. I wanted to know the girl behind those eyes. Wanted to know what made you smile, what thoughts ran through your mind.” His thumb ran lazy circles over my palm, and I shivered. “When Neil screwed up, I panicked. I thought I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. That’s why I offered to do the article. And I had to beg the editor to let me.” A small smile flickered. “Of course I’m pretty sure it was your dad’s phone call that sealed the deal.”

  Everything he’d said was unbelievable and my head was spinning at warp speed, but his last statement stopped me cold. “Dad called the magazine?”

  “Yeah. He wasn’t very happy about Neil upsetting you. I think the magazine would’ve done anything at that point to ensure the article would still run.” Leaning in close, he smiled. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you bring out the protective side of the men in your life.”

  “The men in my life?” I cocked my head to the side. “I wasn’t aware there was more than one.”

  Carter reeled back, an incredulous look on his face. “I didn’t realize my manhood was in question here.”

  “Oh, believe me. It’s not.” I giggled. “I guess I didn’t realize you were in my life.”

  He released one of my hands, dragging his fingertips up my arm. “I suppose that’s up to you.”

  “What?” I squeaked out, watching his hand as it made its way up to my shoulder.

  “I want to be in your life, Aspen.” He palmed my cheek. “The trut
h is that I didn’t want to tell you about the article deadline because I was afraid.”

  “You were afraid?” This stunned me. “Of what?”

  “Afraid of not seeing you anymore. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me when this was over.”

  “Oh.” I wanted to tell him that I did want to see him. More than anything. But the words died in my mouth, coating my tongue like thick peanut butter.

  His thumb grazed my chin, his fingers slipped under my hair. Tilting his head, he moved closer. “Aspen?”

  “Uh-huh?” Words were almost impossible at this point.

  “Do you want me to back off?” Every word was punctuated with hot air as it met my mouth. “I can go back to my chair if you want me too.”

  Dizziness swept over me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted. It was like I was on sensory overload with his hand on my face, his mouth inching toward my lips and his hand gripping mine.

  “Aspen?”

  God, I loved when he said my name. Without a word, I lifted my face, staring into his eyes.

  He started to pull away, but I squeezed his hand and forced the words out. “No.”

  “No, you don’t want this?” His face dropped.

  Man, I seriously had the worst communication skills ever. “No. I don’t want you to go back to your chair.”

  “Good.” He released my fingers, bringing his other hand up to frame my face. “Because I don’t want to either.” Very slowly he tilted his head, his lips brushing mine. He held my head in place, and I was grateful since I had absolutely no idea what to do. But his fingers guided me forward as his mouth moved over my lips. It was soft like the sweep of a flower petal, silky and light. His tongue flicked out, startling me. I let out a little gasp, and he drew back. “You okay?”

  I hated that he stopped, so I nodded quickly. His dark eyes pierced mine, hunger evident in them. My heart skipped a beat at the passion raging. No one had ever looked at me like that before. His lips covered mine, and I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of them. This time I didn’t gasp when his tongue licked along my lips, teasing them open. I parted them, allowing him entry, and his tongue swirled inside my mouth. His grip on my face tightened, but in a gentle way, while his fingers tangled in my hair. Reaching up, I ran my hands up his chest, my fingertips lighting on the muscles underneath his shirt. I always thought my first kiss would be disastrous, that I would fumble my way through it like a person stumbling through the pitch dark. But with Carter I found my rhythm quickly. It wasn’t jerky or awkward like I imagined it would be. Instead it was smooth, like the flight of a butterfly, like we were soaring above the flowers. Our lips moved in sync like colorful wings beating against the air propelling us forward. We were free and beautiful, our feet never touching the ground.

  FIFTEEN

  My feet didn’t hit the ground for days. I floated, my head in the clouds, my feet skimming the surface of the earth. I’d always dreamt of being a kite, of being one with the sky, and it seemed I’d finally gotten my wish. Ever since my kiss with Carter, that was precisely what had happened to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his lips felt on mine, how his fingers felt in my hair. The next two nights I hardly slept at all. I lay in bed conjuring up the feel of him, the smell of him, the sound of his voice.

  Whenever I closed my eyes I saw Carter, as if there were a picture of him taped to my eyelids. I didn’t dream of Kurt and his house of horrors, or of Eve and our friendship, or even of flowers.

  I dreamt of Carter.

  Of his hands, his lips, his touch, the beating of his heart. When I awoke his musky scent lingered on my pillow as if my thoughts truly had the power to bring him here.

  The day after our last interview Carter called to tell me he’d turned everything in. After that I hadn’t heard from him in two days. But I was too high from our last encounter to let it bother me. I was still skating on the fumes of our passionate kiss. And in all honesty, it was nice to have something new consuming my thoughts; something happy, something hopeful.

  It was midnight, and there was a rap on the door to the guesthouse. I hadn’t been asleep, but I knew my parents were. So I sat up in bed, goosebumps rising on my skin. It’s not like it was a common thing to have a visitor show up at the guesthouse in my backyard.

  “Aspen?” Carter whispered harshly. “It’s me. Carter.”

  As if I needed him to clarify what his name was. Like I had so many guys clamoring to spend time with me I’d need him to identify himself. In fact, I chastised myself for not assuming it was him in the first place. I mean, who else could it have been?

  “Coming.” I threw off my covers and hopped out of bed. Catching my reflection in the mirror on the wall, I cringed. My hair was a mess, my eyes watery and red. Swiftly I smoothed my hair down with my hand and blinked my eyes a few times. I wasn’t sure it helped at all, but I didn’t have time to do anything else. I flung open the door to find Carter standing in the doorway wearing a large smile.

  God, I had missed him. I didn’t realize how much until he swept me up into his arms. His lips grazed the side of my face as his arms pulled me close.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come by sooner. My dad is back in the hospital. That’s where I came from.”

  “Oh, Carter.” I rested my palm on his chest and peered up at him, my hair falling over my eyes. “Is he okay?”

  He brushed the strands away from my face and gave me a small smile. “Yeah. He’ll be fine. Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” It felt weird to have him in my room. No one but my parents had ever been in here. My gaze scoured the room as I tried to imagine what it looked like to him with the skylight above and large open windows covering the walls. I had sheer white curtains covering them, that way some light could still escape through the thin material. Plants hung on hooks in the ceiling, but other than that there were no decorations. No paintings or framed pictures. Before closing the door, I glanced at the main house. All the lights were out. My chest tightened thinking of what my parents would do if they knew Carter was in my room. I was sure my dad would pop a fuse. But I wouldn’t worry about that tonight. I closed the door, blocking out all thoughts of my parents.

  When I turned around, Carter placed his hands on my hips. “I know it’s late, but I had to see you.”

  My heart flipped in my chest.

  “I wanted to sooner, but I couldn’t leave my dad.”

  “Of course. Don’t apologize for that.” My hands fluttered over his body nervously until finally I rested them on his shoulders. His muscles flexed beneath my palms, exciting me. “I understand.”

  “But it killed me to be away from you.” His hands tightened around my waist, drawing me closer. “And I didn’t want you to think that I’d forgotten about you.” He lowered his head until his lips hovered over my ear. “Because I haven’t. Not for one moment.”

  My whole body shuddered. “Me either,” I admitted.

  I lifted my head, my hand curving around his neck. His hands raked up my back, brushing the ends of my hair. My eyelids fluttered, and I licked my lips. This time there was no hesitation. I was ready when he crushed his lips to mine. There was a desperation about the way he kissed me that wasn’t present last time. Everything about this kiss felt charged, electric. His mouth moved hungrily, greedily, as if he was taking what he needed. As if I was water and he was dying of thirst. I felt heady as his tongue thrust in my mouth, as his lips moved over mine swiftly, as his hands explored my skin. I fingered the bottom of his hair and a groan sounded at the back of his throat. My body swiveled and Carter lowered me onto the bed. My back hit the spongy mattress, my hair falling over my pillow. Carter’s body covered mine, his arms caging me in. His lips captured mine once more, our gasping breaths mingling together. My chest rose and fell with each beat of my heart, with each labored breath. When his chest collided with mine, it was hard to tell which heartbeat belonged to whom.

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” he spoke against my mouth, before moving his lips down my neck,
dotting kisses along the sensitive flesh of my neck and collarbone. Both of his hands skated across my shoulders, his fingers meeting in the center of my chest. “Aspen, I want you so bad.”

  I froze, his words registering. My whole body went rigid, panic taking root in my stomach and unfurling slowly like the petals of a flower. “What?”

  He stopped moving when his fingers barely started to slip under the edge of my pajama top. He extracted his lips from skin. I shivered, my skin cool in the places his moist lips touched. “I’m sorry.” He blinked, as if coming out of a fog. Pushing himself up, he sat beside me. Taking a deep breath, he flashed me an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to move so fast. I just-”

  “Got caught up in the moment?” I finished for him, remembering how he described our almost kiss in the field of flowers.

  “Yeah.” He let out a stilted laugh while running a hand over his head. “I’ve always been accused of being too passionate. When I want something, I jump in with both feet. I give it my all.” His hand found mine. “And you are something I want very badly, Aspen Fairchild.”

  I smiled. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t think I’m ready for this.” My gaze flickered to the bed, to my chest, to his lips, to his hands.

  “I know. And I’ll never force myself on you. I promise.” He studied my face. “You trust me, right?”

  Biting my lip, I nodded. His words had alarmed me, though, and I frowned, pulling my hand back. Instinctually I hugged myself.

  “What is it?”

  “I like you, Carter, but I don’t know if this will work out.”

  He grunted, putting his head in his hands. “God, I really screwed up, didn’t I?” Standing up, he stared at the curtains, his back to me. “I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I’m sorry.” In one swift movement, he reached for the door. When he opened it, cool air spilled inside causing the curtains to billow.

  “Carter, wait.” I hopped out of the bed as he stepped outside. “You didn’t screw up tonight.”

 

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