Lake
She’s self-conscious at first, glancing back at me over and over again.
Until I ask her to explain what she’s doing.
Then something unlocks in her, a brightness.
A lightness.
A woman I’ve only had glimpses of before then.
She talks about aperture and shutter speed and something called ISO. She mentions the importance of white exposure and shows me how she frames a shot, what catches her eye.
“You see?” she says, holding up the camera so I can look at the back of it. “That’s not quite right, but if I angle it like this and pull back here—”
I hear the rapid clicking of the shutter opening and closing before she holds it up again.
“This is better, right?”
I blink, actually seeing that it is better. “Yeah, butterfly. That’s really good.”
She smiles up at me and swear to fuck, my heart skips a beat before I manage to rein that in. Luckily, she’s focused on the camera, on powering it down and putting on the lens cap. “I think that’s enough for now. Should we go back?”
“Nah,” I say. “Let’s go a little further.” I lift my chin. “There’s a lake on the corner of my property you’ll like.”
She blinks, cheeks pink from the cold, nose kissable as she looks up at me. “Planning on drowning me?”
“Nah,” I say, glad she’s relaxed enough out here that she’s able to snark at me again. “I would have done that in the river. The lake is frozen over.”
“Considering all your options,” she says with a quick grin. “I do like a man who plans ahead.”
“Nah, baby,” I say, “I think you like to fly by the seat of your pants.”
She misses a step and I reach out, snag her arm, steadying her. My bag hits her arm and she winces. “Planning to brain me with your backpack instead?” she teases.
“Sorry, butterfly.”
Another missed step, but this time I manage to steady her without attempted murder.
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
Yeah.
Why?
Because I’m an idiot and I can’t seem to stop.
“The butterfly pushpins,” I lie. Because it started that way.
It just…feels like more now.
Watching her come out of her cocoon, seeing the beauty beneath as her wings unfurl, ready to take flight.
Something that both brings relief and…
The urge to get a net ready.
“Oh,” she says, throat working, eyes not meeting mine. Then she’s looking away again. “How far is the lake?” A beat, the half of her mouth I can see curving. “Lake.”
“Funny,” I say dryly, holding a branch back so it doesn’t smack her in the face.
She steps through, follows me along the winding path that I’ve traversed so often by now, I have it memorized.
“What do you have in the backpack?” she asks after a moment.
“You’ll see.”
“How ominous,” she says lightly.
I don’t snark back only because we’re taking the last turn and the lake—well, really, it’s more pond than lake, otherwise it wouldn’t be cold enough to freeze over—is right in front of us.
“Oh,” she whispers.
Out from beneath the cover of the trees, I see the snow is still falling, but not as rapidly as before. It’s like a romantic movie spewed to life as the picture-perfect sprinkling floats through the air, clinging to her beanie, her coat, the ends of her hair as she moves forward and lifts her camera.
It’s beautiful, one of my favorite places.
The reason I bought this property in the first place, even though it’s risky to set down roots when my career can send me anywhere.
I was visiting Mack, whose property backs up to mine, and he conned me into helping him clear some trees. A wrong turn, stumbling onto this piece of land…
Now I have roots.
And a place to settle when all the rest of it is over.
Nova moves forward, camera clicking, putting all those skills of hers to work, and knowing I have some time, I move over to my typical boulder.
Empty the backpack.
And wait.
* * *
“I’m sorry,” she says about ten minutes later, whipping around, eyes wide, mouth pulled into a grimace. “Shit. I totally forgot you were there.”
“What a compliment,” I quip.
She glares at me, plunks her hands on her hips. “Seriously?”
“Come here, butterfly,” I say instead of engaging, patting the boulder next to me.
“Why?” she asks suspiciously, even as she clomps over, kicking up snow with each step.
And it’s fucking stupid, but I won’t ever forget the look on her face when she sees the skates in my hands.
Not calculated. Shocked. And then her expression goes gentle.
For me.
My heart does that thing again.
“What did you do?” she whispers.
“Nothing,” I say, taking her hand and nudging her down onto the boulder. “Sit down.”
“I don’t know how to skate.”
I grin at her. “Luckily, I’m a hockey player.” Her face goes soft again, and I hold up the skates. “So, you game?”
That soft surprise again but she stays sitting on the rock as I tug off her boots, as I pull on one of the spare set skates I keep at the house, tighten them. They’re a little big, but not by much, especially when I tie off the laces.
“Am I going to end up under the ice?” she asks as I start pulling on my own skates.
My lips twitch. “The pond is solid,” I tell her. “It’s been frozen through for weeks now.”
“Still,” she says. “Just out of curiosity, how deep is this lake-slash-pond?”
“Come on,” I say instead of answering, holding out my hand and helping her up, guiding her to the edge of the pond.
I step on before her, bounce a few times. “Solid, see?”
She nibbles at the corner of her mouth.
But then she takes my hand and I guide her out onto the ice.
Immediately her legs slide out from under her and I have to react quickly, drawing her flush against me, preventing her from going full Bambi.
She shrieks, clings to my body to stay upright even though I have my arms securely wrapped around her, even though I’m not going to let her fall.
“Bend your knees,” I say, coaxing her a little lower. “Good. Like that.” Slowly, I adjust my grip so I can spin her around, so that her back is pressed to my front. “Stay bent, yeah?”
I wrap my arm around her. “Yeah.”
“Now like this.”
She carefully mirrors my movements as I take one stride then another.
“Good. Just like that.”
Her nails dig into my arm, but she nods and keeps moving slowly forward.
“Keep going.”
She does, and picks it up remarkably quick, gaining her balance, that lush ass of hers rubbing against me, distracting me as we make several slow loops around the pond.
My dick twitches and I nudge her forward a little bit, trying to get the cold ass air to do me a favor.
“Lake!” she shrieks, clinging to my arm again, bringing our bodies flush. “Don’t let me go.”
“You’ve got this.” But I stay with her for a little bit longer before pulling away again.
This time she doesn’t freak out and clutch at me.
She lets go, takes a few strides on her own. “I’m doing it!” she says picking up speed.
I rotate as she makes a loop on her own, coming back around to me, now skating at a decent clip.
I’m transfixed.
By her and the soft whistle of the wind whispering through her hair. The shush of the snowflakes landing on the ice as she makes her circle. The crunch of her skates on the surface of the pond with each stride she takes. The beautiful smile on her face.
Nothing exists aside from her.
Not the past. Not the future.
Just Nova.
I move closer, intending to take her in my arms again.
Her words carry toward me. “I’m freaking doing—!”
I realize my miscalculation about a millisecond too late.
Because while I was lost in the music of the moment, the beauty of her excitement, I neglected to teach her something important.
How to stop.
“—it!”