Page 74 of Carry Me Home
She flashed me a cheeky grin. “Of course I’m going in. Isn’t that why you brought me here?” She dipped a toe in the water and immediately pulled it out again with a little yelp. “Christ, that’s cold!”
“Yeah, have fun, Ace. I’m staying here where it’s warm and dry.” But I peeled my shirt off, because I had the feeling she wasn’t going to allow that.
Sure enough, she gave a tinkly little laugh. “You’re getting in, soldier. I need your body warmth.”
I had stripped down to my boxers by the time she wrapped her arms around my waist. I protested, laughing, as she walked to the edge, taking me with her. Our bodies pressed together, thigh to thigh, belly to belly, chest to chest.
“Don’t do it,” I warned, as though I couldn’t stop her right this second if I wanted to. The truth was, I’d follow her anywhere. Even if it meant freezing my balls off. “There will be payback.”
A mischievous smile flashed across her face. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”
She didn’t pull me in. She didn’t have to.
We jumped in together.
“Your lips are blue.”Janie pushed the words through chattering teeth.
I rubbed the towel I’d stowed in my backpack over her goose-bumped arms. “So are yours.” I pressed my numb lips to her numb lips in a clumsy kiss. She giggled.
“Careful,” she said against my mouth. “I can’t feel my lips. I might accidentally bite you.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t like that?” I said back.
The only answer I got was the sharp nip of her teeth. And fuck yeah, I liked it.
We toweled off. Muttering to herself about skin cancer and sunscreen, Janie pulled on her clothes. I was still damp so I draped myself over a rock like a lizard and let the sun do its thing. My eyes drifted closed. I heard Janie unzip her pack—probably looking for a snack.
“Can I draw you?”
I cracked open an eyelid and found Janie with her sketchpad balanced on her knees, tapping a charcoal pencil against the paper.
“You want to draw me? Now?” I was still fully naked, scars and all.
She nodded slowly as her gaze swept over me. There was nothing sexual in the way she assessed me. She scrutinized every inch of me, fingers twitching like she was already imagining how she’d direct the pencil.
“I want to draw you just like this. It’s perfect. The contrast of it all. Hard rock, soft skin, hard muscles, soft sunlight. Plus you have the body of a Greek god. It would be criminal not to draw you. Straight to jail.”
“Shit, I’m blushing.” I really was, a little bit. I chuckled. “All right, Ace. Draw me like one of your amphibians.”
“Clasp your hands behind your head. One knee up. Perfect. Keep your eyes closed, like you’re napping.”
I followed her instructions, but of course I peeked a little. I couldn’t resist. “Is it okay if I talk?”
“Sure. You can even move a little if you need to, but try not to change your position too much.”
“Okay.” I squinted at her. “I saw that sketch you did of Maya on the swing. It was incredible. It wasn’t just that it was realistic. It was like you captured her soul.”
“That’s exactly what I love about drawing people. It’s a challenge getting their…I don’t know, their essence or soul or whatever magic it is that makes a person who they are. It’s not the same with frogs and salamanders, you know. In the first place, I’m usually drawing them from a photograph someone else took. They don’t really have a personality.”
“Your frogs and salamanders are amazing, Janie.”
“They’re for Maya. I love making this book with her. I mean, how many seven-year-olds do you know who take something this seriously? But sometimes I want to draw something that’s just for me. Sometimes I want to take myself seriously, too.” Her self-deprecating laugh made my chest hurt. “I know that’s silly. It’s just a hobby.”
I let my eyelid flutter open enough to watch the pencil flick over the paper in feather-light strokes. She was frowning, whether in concentration or at whatever bullshit she was telling herself, I wasn’t sure. “Why is that silly?”
“Because itis.” Her pencil moved faster. “When you’re in your twenties, it’s okay to still be figuring it all out. People expect that. But I’ve been a mom since I was twenty-two. I’m thirty years old. The time for finding myself is over. I should be focused on finding a real job, not silly side quests.”
“You have a real job,” I pointed out.
