Picture This (30 page)

“R
eady for the rest of this?” Niall asked as Celia came up to him in the hallway near the dressing room.

“Can't get much worse.”

She started to pass him by, but he grasped her arm gently. He couldn't let them stay in this awkward limbo one more minute. “Hang on a second. I was just looking for you.”

“I had to fetch Ray a glass of wine. His request,” she added hurriedly. “I wasn't trying to poison him.”

“You'd be in the minority.”

“Then I got delayed in the foyer because I was chatting with Mac, my grandmother's boyfriend.”

“You finally got to meet him! What's he like?”

“He's very nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I'm surprised he actually exists.”

Niall smiled warmly at her. “Your grandmother doesn't make stuff up. She's just a little forgetful.”

“Remind me to tell you what she was up to at two in the morning the other night.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Not right now, though. I believe your presence is required onstage for the second half of the competition.”

“Not just yet. We've still got some time, and I, uh . . .”

“What?”

“Can we talk a minute?”

“Now?”

“Please. I feel like I didn't explain myself very well yesterday.”

“You didn't explain yourself at all. ‘Because reasons' isn't a valid excuse for throwing us away.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“And neither is ‘I want you to be safe,' or whatever it was you dished out. Do you think I need protecting or something? Because I don't.”

But he did need to protect her. He didn't want her hurt. He'd already lost Aaron and, indirectly, his grandmother. Everyone he loved. And yes, he loved Celia. He loved her. That much was clear—the way his heart seemed to expand to fill his entire chest whenever he looked at her, the way he found himself thinking of a future with her, the way he desperately wanted to make sure she was always, always safe.

“You don't know—”

“Right. I don't know how paparazzi behave. I don't know a lot of things. That doesn't mean I can't figure it out.”

“It's not them. It's what they represent, what they're a part of. The bigger picture. It's ugly.”

“You do pretty well.”

“Not half as well as I seem to. And not without having paid a price.”

“That sounds ridiculously ominous.”

“I'll tell you about it sometime.” He hesitated. Would he make good on that? He wasn't certain. He wished he could explain everything right then, but those words? They wouldn't come.

He sighed and leaned against the wall. “I miss you so much.”

“You've got a funny way of showing it.”

“I was trying to stay away from you. I thought it would help.”

Celia hesitated, then admitted, “I kept expecting to hear that you'd left town—given up on me and . . . everything else.”

Niall fixed her with a reproachful look. “Celia. I know I've been handling all this badly, but I would never . . . I'm
not
that guy. And you're not Nora.”

Niall grasped her hand and tugged on her fingers, gently, until she stepped close enough to him that he could put his other hand on her waist. God, she felt so good. The more time he spent apart from her, the more he thought about her. Night after night, it had been just him and the crickets and the silence and the dark, hour after hour, trying to convince himself that keeping a safe distance was for the best. He'd failed.

As if she could read his thoughts—and he wouldn't have been surprised if she could—Celia softened and put a hand to his cheek. “You look tired.”

He could sleep if she were beside him. Well, eventually. After they took care of a few pressing matters first. But he didn't tell her that. He just leaned into her touch and said, “I'm all right.”

“You're not very convincing.”

He shrugged, closing his eyes, focusing only on the sensation of her smooth, cool hand on the side of his face, her fingers straying into the hair at his temple.

“We need another round of secret-telling,” she said.

He stiffened a little, then realized it would never occur to her to ask the questions he was afraid of answering. He nodded.

“Did you know Tiffany was going to come to town?”

“God, no. Trent had said she wanted a public breakup, but I never thought she wanted to do it face-to-face—and I never thought she'd come all the way here.” He paused and dared to joke, “Do you think the town will ever recover?”

Laughing dryly, Celia said, “It might take a while.”

Niall let go of her hand and grasped her hip, pulling her to him completely. “I'm sorry for how I acted that night. I didn't mean to order you around.”

“I could have handled Tiffany.”

“I know. It was just . . .”

“No more of that protection stuff, please. You sound like my dad.”

“Scary.”

“Bet you never thought you'd have so much in common with him, did you?”

“Can we not talk about your father right now?”

He spread his hands, letting his fingers follow the curve of her hips around to her back. Couldn't resist touching his lips to hers, lightly—once, twice.

“Niall,” she whispered, “promise you won't shut me out.”

“I—”

“I said I was in this, and I meant it.”

“I worry.”

She sighed, lowered her eyes, and it was as though a light had gone out. “What, then? Do you want to end this—before we even start? Because if you do, you're going to have to let me go right now.”

“No,” he murmured.

“No what?”

“I don't want to end things. I want to start things. And I can't for the life of me let you go.”

At that, Celia wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, into a deep kiss that made him forget how to breathe. He broke it only to recover, yet found himself trailing kisses along her cheek, to her ear, down her throat. Celia squirmed and groaned, but she didn't push him away. He held her even tighter, wanting to feel her every curve against his body as he returned to the haven of her mouth again.

A bellow from the top of the stairs made them both jump. “Contestants! Let's get a move on! Nora and Laurie are next! Let's go!”

Celia took a step back. “Looks like Ray's ready to start.”

“Guess so.” He gave her a rueful grin and ran his fingers through his hair. How was he going to get back into emcee mode
now
?

Laurie brushed past them in the narrow hallway. “ 'Scuse me,” she murmured, carefully avoiding looking in Celia's direction. Niall saw Celia stiffen but put a smile on her face, even if the smile didn't reach her eyes. “Um, Niall? Have you seen Nora?”

“Not lately, but she's around here someplace. I'm sure she'll be up there in a second.” Laurie looked doubtful, so Niall called up the steps, “Ray? Where's Nora?”

“She's here,” Ray called back.

“There you go.” Niall smiled reassuringly at the young woman and patted her on the shoulder. “Up you get. I'll be right behind you. Break a leg.”

She smiled at him gratefully, ducked her head, and went up to the stage level. Sure enough, Nora was already in the wings, standing in the narrow space between two pulled curtains, staring straight ahead at the empty stage. Niall started to move past her, and when he did, he realized she was absolutely rigid, her face dead white.

“Nora? You okay?”

No answer.

“Hey.” He stepped in front of her to block the distracting, and likely terrifying, view of the stage. “Talk to me.”

Still no answer. Then, “I can't.”

“Nora, honey,” he wheedled, keenly aware of the seconds slipping by until they had to start the second half of the program, “we've been over this. You can do it. You agreed.”

“I was wrong. I can't.”

She spun around, heading for the stairs, past an openmouthed Laurie, whose pale gown gleamed in the shadows. Niall followed Nora and, before she could get any farther, grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.

“You can.”

With the perfect timing of an insensitive lummox, Ray showed up. “Nora, what are you doing? The stage is that way. What's wrong with her? What's she doing?” he demanded, turning to Niall.

Niall took a breath and refrained from shoving Ray out of the way. “Just give us a minute, okay?”

“You're supposed to be onstage!”

“I know. Two minutes.”

“We don't have two minutes!”

“Then
you
go out there!”

“Fine,” Ray muttered, storming off.

Dimly, Niall was aware of Ray nervously chatting with the crowd and someone in the audience shouting, “Where's Niall?” Ray shouted back impatiently, “He's indisposed!” then went on with introductions for Nora and Laurie.

“What do you need?” Celia was by his side, ready to spring into action.

He answered, “Tell Ray to stall. I've got this.”

She rushed off, and Niall heard another audience member shout, “Hi, Celia!” when she appeared onstage. It may have been Holly, but he didn't have time to wonder. He didn't even bristle at the sound of someone's wolf whistle. He had to help Nora. He felt responsible; he'd dragged her into this against her will. Now he had to convince her she could pull it off.

“Nora,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone, keeping eye contact with her. “Come on. We've been over this already. You said you could do it.”

“The whole town is out there.”

“That's a good thing. They all know you and they love you.”

“Everyone's going to laugh at me.”

Niall held the woman's cold, trembling hands. “No, they won't. You've done an incredible job so far. You sound great.”

Nora just shook her head. Laurie joined them, wide-eyed. “So this isn't going to happen?”

“Sure it is—” he began, even as Nora shook her head more vehemently.

Then Celia was back at his side. “Nora,” she commanded, her voice hard. “Snap out of it.” Niall was surprised to see Nora focus on her, more alert than she'd been for the whole first part of the evening. “You said you're doing this, so you're doing this. It's not just about you. You're supporting Laurie. She needs this. Get out of your own head and do it for her.”

Niall was even more surprised when Nora blinked, shook herself, and pulled her hands out of Niall's grasp. Nodding, she said, “Okay. Let's go. Now. Before I change my mind.”

She marched toward the stage, and Laurie hurried to catch up, pausing only to squeeze Celia's hand and whisper her thanks.

Niall was left gaping at Celia, who merely shrugged and said, “Nora doesn't do pity. She does respond to a slap in the face, however—even if it's verbal.”

He let out a huge, relieved breath. “Thank you, kraken.”

The two women tore into “Beautiful” so masterfully the population of Marsden forgot they weren't supposed to like Laurie. The first truly confident duo of the night, they even got a standing ovation. And then Ray sent Niall out onstage with the announcement of their surprise tune: the old gothic story-song, “Delta Dawn.” About a woman who goes crazy because her lover never came for her like he promised.

“Dubois, you
suck
!” someone shouted.

While the women reluctantly started the tune, Niall stood guard in case someone rushed the stage with the goal of pounding on Ray for his weak attempts at humor, or whatever it was he thought he was doing.

Alan mercifully pulled the plug before the song finished, and nobody, least of all Nora and Laurie, seemed to mind. To a respectable round of applause, in acknowledgment of their talent but also their courage for persevering with the second song, the women left the stage, arms around each other.

Niall said into the microphone, “Uh, we'll be right back,” and went in search of Ray.

When the older man spotted him backstage, he ordered, “Get back out there! We've got one more act!”

But Niall said quietly, and completely seriously, “No, man. I'm out. I can't make jokes when the audience is verging on violence. What is
wrong
with you?”

“This is good!” he spluttered. “This is memorable. Edgy, you know?”

“No,” Niall said again. “I
don't
know. You're on your own.”

“You signed a contract!”

“Contracts were made to be broken.” He ought to know.

Ray could try to sue him. He didn't really care. He glanced over at Celia, who was standing by her father at the sound board. Alan studied Niall, then gave one somber nod of approval. Niall nodded back.

“Fine.” Ray grabbed the mic from him. “I'll do it myself.”

He had to shout to be heard over the angry audience, even with amplification. Niall resisted the urge to peek around the proscenium to see if the townspeople had brought in some torches and pitchforks. Ray had seriously misjudged what he thought the audience expected of the contest, as well as their level of tolerance for what he thought were good inside jokes based on town gossip. Did they still run people out of town on a rail? What did that even mean, anyway? Whatever, if they did, Niall was sure Ray would be on that rail within minutes if the crowd had its way.

“All right, all right!” he was saying. “Shut up!” When the audience finally obeyed, gradually falling into an uneasy silence, he said, “Our last duet is by Brianna Carroll.” He said her name brightly, then tacked on, in a grumbling rush, “And Darryl Sykes. Give 'em a warm welcome.”

Ray leaned back so he could see into the wings and frantically gestured for the pair to come out onstage. Brianna was conferring with Alan and Celia, whispering feverishly. Darryl came up, said something to her, and the young girl nodded and dashed out into the spotlight.