Behind the Lens (Home in Carson Book 1) Read online

  “Ready for your hair?” His voice was rough behind her and she wondered how difficult it was for him to keep his body in check.

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  Moving around her effortlessly, he stood and grabbed a handheld showerhead, then twisted her body so that she sat sideways on the bench.

  Bending his knees, he knelt on the shower floor, his large body filled the space. Cliff’s head inched closer to her until his lips were just a breath away from her ear. “Tilt your head back.”

  She complied as Cliff held the showerhead over her hair, wetting her long dark tresses. Alexis closed her eyes, only opening them when she heard a clink on the floor, but quickly closed them again as Cliff’s hands massaged and lathered her hair with shampoo.

  “Sorry if it is too manly. It is all that I have. I can grab you some at the store; just tell me what you like.”

  She was shocked at the sound of nervousness in his voice as if his shampoo wasn’t good enough for her.

  “Thank you, Cliff. This shampoo is fine. Maybe just some conditioner, if you don’t mind?”

  His answering chuckle was like a ray of sunshine after a storm. Her heart burst with joy knowing she caused his spark of happiness.

  “You’re in luck,” he told her. “I have some.”

  Sitting up, she looked over at him suspiciously. “Really?”

  Cliff shrugged his shoulders as if an ex-Army Ranger and tattoo artist using conditioner for his hair was a likely occurrence. “I like the way it makes my hair look. And it’s easier to comb after a shower.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Lean back. We’re almost done.”

  Cliff washed the rest of the trying two days away until she was left feeling fresh and new. He reached for a towel tucked into a cabinet and patted down her body, then draped it around his waist before reaching out for another towel and wrapping it around her shoulders.

  Lifting her in his arms, he carried her through the hall and into a small but clean bedroom where he eased her onto the mattress. With a similar skill to Logan’s, Cliff applied ointment to her wounds then redressed them, the sutures stung as they pulled at her skin.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Logan said you should be feeling better in a few days, just take it easy, okay? I’m going to help you get dressed and let you get some sleep.”

  He stalked over to his dresser, tugged out a navy blue T-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. It was exactly what she would be wearing if she was at her home. Except, she didn’t really have a home, just a studio apartment she rented for cheap close to the office. That way, if she got a call late at night or early in the morning, she could get there sooner.

  As he had done at his tattoo studio, he lifted her arms and legs into the clothing, only satisfied when she was completely covered up.

  “I’m going to put the compression wrap back on your leg, but I think you can do without the sling tonight or are you a mover while you sleep?”

  “Um. . .I don’t know,” she told him bashfully. Alexis had never been one to share her bed with anyone, so she was unable to answer that question truthfully. She liked her privacy and never felt a special connection with someone to bring them to her apartment.

  “Okay. Well, how about we go without it at first, but if I think you need it when I check on you, we’ll put it back on.”

  She ignored his suggestion, instead Alexis focused on the fact that he was laying her down in his bed, tucking the duvet that smelled like him under her chin. “I feel terrible kicking you out of your bed.”

  “Don’t be. I never get much sleep anyway.”

  Curious, Alexis asked, “Why is that? Nightmares?” She had heard some horror stories of men struggling with PTSD after the war. To her, it made perfect sense that Cliff would experience those same tormenting thoughts.

  “No.”

  “Then why?” she pressed.

  His chest heaved with a sigh as he stepped toward the door; the only light in the space was that from the bathroom down the way, his large body now blocking it. She wished that she could see his expression.

  “Loneliness.”

  “Thank you, Cliff.”

  He grunted in response, closing the door behind him. The room was bathed in darkness and Alexis hated not having the opportunity to look around the room. She wanted to know more about Cliff. What made him tick? What made him smile? Did he keep things to remind himself of a memory? Alexis wanted to know it all. But the weight of her eyelids became too heavy and she could no longer fight against the desire to give into sleep. She always had tomorrow.

  A scream startled her from sleep and her eyes popped open looking around the room in horror. Until she realized the noise was coming from her own throat. Unexpectedly the door to the bedroom opened and Cliff rushed inside. Without any light, Alexis couldn’t see the fear in his expression, but she knew that it was there. It was the way he gently caressed her arms and face to make sure nothing on her was harmed. His thumb wiped away wetness from her cheek and it was the first time Alexis realized that she has been crying.

  “Bad dream?” he asked in a hushed voice, and Alexis nodded not knowing if he could see her.

  “I keep seeing images of faceless girls being taken away by men, men like my father. And I couldn’t stop him.”

  “We can and we will. Don’t worry, we’re going to solve this and keep you safe at the same time.”

  “Seems impossible,” she grumbled as she settled back against the pillow.

  “It is not, trust me. I’ve dealt with men like this before.”

  “Probably not when the stakes are this high, or you have something he wanted.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Me.”

  Cliff grew silent then, Alexis wondered if he finally realized the weight of what she had brought to all of them. If she was of a better mind, she would up and leave first thing in the morning, but something inside her screamed that Cliff wasn’t going to let that happen on his watch.

  Trust him, he had asked and Alexis wondered if that was something she could do at all. Trust.

  Cliff turned his body and sat on the edge of the bed, one of his hands weaving through his hair. She wanted to do the same, offer him comfort by the stroke of her hand, but she knew she wasn’t in that position. She assumed he planned on going back out to the bedroom, but after a minute passed with his gaze trained down the hall, Alexis’ curiosity piqued.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you to fall asleep,” his strained voice replied.

  “You could. . .ugh. . .sleep here with me. I mean, it is silly for you to sleep on the couch at your own home.”

  Cliff’s head jerked her way and Alexis almost jumped at the feral gaze in his eyes. Even in the blackness, she could make out the ferocity in the irises.

  “I haven’t shared a bed with someone in a very very long time.” His voice was pained as if remembering a nightmare of his own – one from his past.

  “That’s okay. Neither have I. Please? It may keep the dreams away.” She knew she was throwing out the big punches. Cliff was the kind of man that would bend over backward for someone that he cared about – she knew this about him already. She remembered how he came out, literally guns locked and loaded when they first met. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to save someone he considered a friend.

  Wordlessly, Cliff skirted around the bed until he stood on the other side. The duvet lifted and she instantly felt the change in heat as he slipped under the covers. Alexis started to consider that this maybe wasn’t the best decision she’d made. How was she ever going to get to sleep now with this beautiful man lying beside her with intricate tattoos on his arms and chest that she wanted to trace with her tongue? Yes, this was definitely the worst decision she’d ever made.

  “Go to sleep,” he growled, his arms on top of the covers and folded against his chest.

  With a gentle smile, Alexis turned her head until it once again was facing the ceiling and
closed her eyes. “Good night, Cliff. Sweet dreams.”

  It was early when Alexis woke the next morning. Not quite bright enough for sunlight, but just light enough that she could make out the empty bed next to her. Even though she conned Cliff into sleeping in the bed with her during the night, she slept the rest of the night wonderfully. Maybe the notion that he was there to protect her helped put her mind at ease.

  Gingerly slipping out of bed, Alexis was surprised to find a pair of crutches resting against the nightstand. She didn’t recall them being there the night before, but maybe that was why Cliff was out of bed.

  Regardless of her desire to inspect everything in the room, Alexis gripped the crutches, placed them under her arms, and began to maneuver through the house. In the living room, she stopped suddenly.

  How did she miss this yesterday?

  Her only thought was that she was too out of it to recognize the image in the picture. There were several scattered across the wall, all of varying places in Carson that Alexis recognized. But she knew those fingers anywhere. That day she had gone for a run on this path surrounding Cliff’s cabin, she stopped to catch her breath and had gently run her fingers over the top of the wheat stalks. For this image to be so crisp and clear would mean that the photographer had been very close to her body.

  When Cliff pulled into the cabin’s drive yesterday, Alexis’ tried not to let on how much she adored this place. She had been hoping that if she ever retired from her duties that she could escape here away from everyone. This would be the place Alexis would lay down roots. Now, she realized that Cliff felt the same.

  Inspecting each of the portraits on the wall, Alexis’ eyes traveled toward the mantle above the fireplace. The space was pretty bare, only sparsely decorated with a few odds and ends, but lying face down was a small picture. Lifting the image, a cheerful woman smiled back at her. Alexis found herself returning the gesture. Her pale blonde hair flew around her face on a breeze and the hem of her dress did the same around her tanned legs. She was beautiful, but strangely, Alexis felt not an ounce of jealousy. Whoever this woman was, Cliff had carried this picture close with him. The edges of the photograph were worn, the font itself scraped and tattered. Alexis couldn’t help but think that this picture held more than just a memory for Cliff.

  Feeling like she had invaded his privacy, Alexis placed the picture back exactly how she found it and then hobbled around the couch toward the kitchen. She was surprised to find it empty as well. Considering the nature of the photos in the room, Alexis took a chance to check outside the cabin.

  It took some skill to open and hold the door ajar while gripping the crutches, but she managed. Standing on the front porch, she glanced around the open field, the same one as the picture, but couldn’t locate Cliff. Alexis thought back to her time running along the path and remembered access to a lake behind the cabin.

  Gritting her teeth, Alexis teetered down the steps then slowly made her way toward a narrow opening in the tree line. She followed the trail for a while until the cabin was no longer in view behind her and for a moment, Alexis worried that she would be unable to make it back. Her weakness grew with each step and her vision clouded with white.

  Leaning against a large tree, Alexis took a minute to rest, thankful when her vision returned. And though she was not at full strength, she felt ten times better after the break. She just hoped that she was getting close because it would take her an hour to make it back up the small hill.

  Finally, an opening broke through the forest and the lake came into view. At first, Alexis didn’t see Cliff, but turning her attention to the left, she found a lone dock perched over the water and a man sitting on the edge – looking just as lost as she felt.

  Chapter Four

  Cliff tried his hardest to bite back a smile. For a woman that was known to her colleagues as stealth and light on her feet, Cliff heard her approach almost ten minutes before she made herself known. But he’d never tell her that fact. Of course, if he did, she’d most likely blame the crutches.

  When he first heard her footsteps, he wasn’t sure if he was elated or irritated that she had discovered his hiding spot. The path to the lake wasn’t discernible to the naked eye, but now that she’s here, he felt – content. As if he had been expecting her all along. And maybe he was.

  When he woke this morning after the best sleep he could remember, his body had been turned toward Alexis. She slept with a smile on her lips and Cliff prayed that he had been the one to put it there. He wanted to be the reason for all of her smiles. But just as the happy thought had planted its seed in his heart, the ugliness of who he was reared its nasty head. She didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him except what the government would allow. If she ever found out about the coldness swirling through his veins, she would be disgusted.

  Before morning light, he left the bed as abruptly as he had entered it, venturing outside to the place that brought him peace. Except he had forgotten his camera at his shop and felt naked standing in the open field even though he was fully clothed. The call of the water had beckoned him forward and he had been sitting in the same spot since dawn broke.

  The dock had been the first thing he constructed for the property. His desire to be one with nature compelled him to take the time to sit amongst the vast space. The hard work paid off and whenever Cliff felt lost in himself, he sits in this same spot, a reminder of how inconsequential his problems were to the world.

  “I was wondering where you were,” she said as the thud of her crutches echoed on the wooden dock.

  Cliff held out a hand and assisted Alexis in sitting on the planks, bearing most of her weight on his one hold. She giggled as she swiped her bare feet in the cool lake water, Cliff forgot that she had no shoes here, but he could listen to her laugh all day.

  “Normally I come out here to clear my head,” he explained.

  Turning her head toward him, she prompted, “But. . .”

  “But today, I’m preparing for my house to be filled to the brim with the Connelly family.”

  “Seems like such a burden to have people that care about you.”

  Her remark surprised him and he pulled his attention away from her. “I just don’t like to be around a lot of people.”

  “Well, then you picked the wrong group of friends. I knew the day that I met them that they considered friends like family.”

  Cliff didn’t respond. Instead, he kicked his feet gently back and forth in the water, mimicking the same moves as Alexis’ feet. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, the sound of birds squawking the only noise to break their solitude.

  “I. . .um. . .saw the photographs on your wall. Who took them?”

  Somehow he knew that she was referring to one picture in general. The one of herself. He remembered the day he found the photograph. He had been scrolling through some candid shots of the wildlife as he normally did, but then he noticed a woman standing on the edge of the field. She had been carefree and utterly beautiful to him. After zooming in, he realized quickly that it had been the same woman he had seen jogging a few weeks before. She was looking at the wheat grains with such reverence and delicacy that he couldn’t help but capture it.

  “I did.”

  By her startled gasp, that notion seemed to surprise her.

  “Really? They’re beautiful, Cliff.”

  “Thanks. The good aim doesn’t just benefit snipers, I suppose.”

  “Was that what you did with the Army? You were a sniper?” He knew better than to ask how she would know that information. The only thing he was confident of was that she had no clue about his current job.

  “I am.” He let that little token of information hang in the air, knowing that she wouldn’t be satisfied with the open response.

  “Do you just take pictures of nature and unassuming women?” Her voice was closer now, right near his ear and by the change in her breath, he could tell that she’d shifted closer to him.

  Turning his head to face her, he
’s surprised at the few inches separating them. “I take pictures of things that calm me.”

  After her nod, Cliff waited for more questions, knowing the curious side of her was roaming freely. She surprised him again as she steered their talk in a different direction.

  “Tell me about your tattoos.”

  His body shivered as her slender fingertips traced the dragon on his arm. Cliff had never had this kind of reaction to a woman before, not in this feral, all-consuming sense.

  “They don’t mean much to me personally, but they’re symbolic of some things that I stand for.”

  “Really? Like what?” she asked as her fingertips fell to the koi fish swimming around his forearm.

  “The dragon stands for strength, the koi fish for determination and good fortune, and the tiger for power.”

  “What about your chest?”

  That was the piece he didn’t want to discuss and he had been worried that she might bring it up. Grabbing her hand, halting her movements, he told her, “That one was more complex.” The thorned rose with wings was a symbol and memorial of his failed marriage.

  “Oh. Well, when did you get them all? Do you want more? Oh, do you do them on yourself?” She seemed eager and genuinely intrigued as she searched his eyes for an answer, her voice perked up with each question.

  “I got them after I officially left the rangers. I’m always looking to get more, but they have to stand for something. I usually call up a colleague to do my ink, I don’t trust myself enough.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I didn’t notice any tattoos on you. Have any hiding?” That was what he really wanted to know. Alexis didn’t seem like someone that would go get a tattoo just for the hell of it. If she had one, it definitely had a meaning to her.

  He watched her skin turn from a beautiful peach flush to stark white. He began to wonder if he’d hurt her, or if she hurt herself coming out here, but he watched as her hand reached up toward her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her hand shook the entire journey.