WHISPER MY NAME
The shredded paper burned quickly, the heat reaching them,
and then the sticks caught fire, snapping and cracking pleasantly.
She watched, admiring how easy he made everything look. “The
paper starts the sticks burning, and the sticks start the logs burning.”
“Exactly. Once the fire’s going well, you want to keep the
screen in front of it, so sparks don’t fly out into the room.” He set the black
screen in place.
At least she had an excuse for the warmth in her cheeks now.
“That’s nice. Thanks for showing me.”
“You’re a quick learner.”
Now, with him looking at her and both of them kneeling
before the fire, their nearness seemed awkwardly intimate. But what did she
know? She felt awkward about everything, and yet this was the best awkwardness
she’d ever experienced. He wasn’t looming over her or threatening in any way.
He was one of the kindest, gentlest people she’d ever met, though she knew he
was tough and aggressive at his job. That juxtaposition of strength and peace
struck a chord and peeled away a papery layer of her fear and distrust.
She looked into his eyes. What did he think of her? The
blaze now gave off enough light to highlight his features, the deep bow of his
upper lip…the disquieting fullness of the lower one. He terrified her—or her
reaction to him terrified her; in either case, her legs trembled, and she
shifted her weight to rest with a hip solidly beneath her.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.
“I was thinking you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever
known. Strong, but feminine. Smart.” His gaze took in her hair, her eyes, her
mouth. “And now your question made me realize that you don’t play games.”
“Games?”
“You don’t flirt. You look directly at a person. You hold a
lot inside, but what you do say is out there. No games.”
“Not the sort of woman you’re used to, I guess.”
“You’re like no one I’ve ever known, that’s for sure. And
that’s a good thing.”
She raised her eyebrows. “It is?”
“It is. What were you thinking?”
She rubbed her thumbnail against her jeans. “I was…I was
wondering what you were thinking about me. And now I know. Possibly.”
“What were you thinking about me?” he asked.
His steady gaze called her out, so she turned and looked at
the fire. “I was remembering the night we were locked in at the Herald.”
He didn’t press her for more, but adjusted his weight to a
sitting position.
“You really think I’m beautiful?”
“I thought it from the first time I saw you.”
“Joe.”
“Yeah.”
A question was burning in her, the issue hotter than the
fire. Her heart pounded, and she couldn’t believe she was going to say the
words, but she couldn’t not. “Am I someone you would kiss?”
She made herself look at him to gauge his reaction.
His eyes seemed to darken even more, and the firelight
reflected in their depths. “Seems like you’re fast becoming the only someone I
want to kiss.”
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