The Darkness We Hide

Stepping outside, Michelle pulled her jacket tighter. Seattle in winter is more wet than snowy, but the blowing wind tonight cut sharply through even her heaviest jacket. The recent cold front had brought with it a flurry of snow that had caused most of the city to come to a grinding halt making the streets almost deserted.

Bending her head against the wind, she headed up the street towards her apartment thankful that she had the next two days off. There was a list a mile long of things she’d been putting off doing for weeks that she swore she’d tackle.

Her mind was so occupied that she didn’t see the sheet of ice on the sidewalk until she stepped onto it. Doing a not so graceful half gainer, she landed on her back gasping for breath, the back of her head aching from striking the pavement.

‘Oh great,’ she thought, ‘this is gonna hurt later.’

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled over to stand up. Pulling herself to her knees, a hand reached down offering aid.

Michelle flinched at the offered hand as it passed close to her face, her heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” a man asked. “Let me give you a hand.”

The voice behind the offer sent chills down her spine, it had the same rumbling tone as Richard’s.

Still trying to catch her breath, Michelle slowly looked up, dreading who she’d see. Craning her neck to look up she saw it wasn’t Richard, but the stranger from the bar.

“Thank you,” Michelle said, finally able to breathe as she accepted his hand.

When she tried to stand, she didn’t realize that she was still on the ice and slipped again, falling directly into the man's chest.

“Here,” Gareth said, wrapping his arms around her body, a warmth spreading across his chest where she landed, “let me help you.”

Slowly, he lifted the woman off the ground and maneuvered them both off the ice sheet, keeping her in his arms until they were away from the slick surface.

“Ow!” she cried as she put weight on her left foot.

Her ankle throbbed, her head ached, and her ego was severely bruised. Under the soft yellow glow of the street lamp, the mans face was even more beautiful than she’d first thought in the dimness of the bar. He was easily over six feet tall, a giant to her own five and a half foot height making her feel shorter than usual.

“Are you following me?” she asked, tears of pain stinging her eyes.

“I was heading for my car,” he said, showing his car keys in his right hand.

“What?” Michelle asked, confusion clouding her mind, his left hand gently holding her steady.

His touch was so warm she could feel its heat through the layers of her clothes.

“I was heading to my car when I saw you slip,” he tried to explain. “Did you hit your head?”

“Yeah,” she said, finding it hard to concentrate with his hands on her .

“How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked, holding three fingers in front of her face.

“Three,” Michelle said, finally able to focus her eyes.

When she tried to move away, her ankle buckled under her causing her to stumble into his solidly muscled chest again.

“Let me help you,” he said, putting his arm around her back and bringing her left arm over his shoulder.

“No, no,” Michelle said, squirming out of his embrace. “I can make it alone.”

“Please,” he coaxed, his voice taking on a purring quality, “it’s the least I can do.”

“No, really,” she reiterated, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “I can manage.”

She did manage, about three steps, before her ankle made a sickening popping sound and she crumpled to her knees in pain, spots forming before her eyes.

Less than a second later, Gareth was beside her, lifting her into his arms.

“I’m fine,” Michelle insisted through gritted teeth.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice brooking no refusal.

Realizing there was no way she could make it home without help, she grudgingly allowed him to scoop her into his arms.

“Which way is your car?” he asked, looking around.

“I didn’t drive,” Michelle explained, pointing up the street. “I actually only live about three blocks that way.”

“Okay,” he replied, adjusting his grip gently, “let’s go.”

Silently he carried her up the sidewalk, his arms never seeming to tire. Being this close to him, she could see now that his eyes which she thought were just green were in fact a deep shade of hazel flecked with gold around the iris’. His deeply tanned cheek was covered with dark stubble making him look rugged and even more sexy.

Just as she was studying him, Gareth was studying her. Her hair, he could now see, was blonde, but natural, not something out of a bottle. Her hooded eyes were the softest shade of sea-foam green he’d ever seen, piercing against the paleness of her skin. This close her, her aura was just as brilliant as it had been in the bar, but it wasn’t a painful brightness, it was a comforting glow of health and vibrancy.

“Okay, this is stupid,” she said, after two blocks in silence. “You’re carrying me home and I don’t even know your name.”

Gareth’s forehead wrinkled, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“You know, you’re right,” he replied, a chuckle escaping. “My name is Gareth, Gareth Channing.”

“Hello Gareth,” Michelle acknowledged. “My name is Michelle Parker.”

“Nice to meet you, Michelle,” Gareth said, a warm smile on his face.

As he walked, linked as they were, Michelle began to notice how strong he was. His gentle grip on her body belied the toll it must be taking on him to carry her so far. She knew that she was no lightweight, but this man didn’t seem to notice the extra weight.

As close as she was, she couldn’t help but also notice the wonderful, incredibly masculine smell coming from his body. It had a faint hint of something spicy, and under this there was yet another scent which she could not place, a slightly earthy, musky smell.

Whatever it was, it was heady. She found herself leaning deeper into his embrace than she needed to just to inhale more of his scent, she couldn’t help herself.

‘Oh God,’ she thought silently, ‘he’s intoxicating’.

She could feel goosebumps on her arms rising despite the heat from his body infusing hers, it was almost as if he had a raging fever. As they neared her apartment she wished they could just pass it by and keep going, just like this, being held, feeling safe and incredibly warm.

Gareth’s thoughts were no less pleasantly occupied, enjoying the closeness of her body as well. She was a little plump around the middle, but it was a comfortably soft plumpness, something some might call voluptuous. When he’d first seen her in the bar he’d been drawn to her, to her aura. It had been a long time since he’d felt that type of pull from anyone, but now that he had her in his arms he didn’t want to let her go. This was the closest he’d allowed anyone except family to be near him since the military hospital in Germany.

Shaking herself out of her daydreaming, Michelle realized what she had been thinking. This man, with his arms wrapped around her was a stranger, not her lover. He was just a nice guy making sure she got home from a bar safe. Resigned, she sighed and prepared herself for their separation.

“This is my place up here,” she said, pointing to her apartment building.

Slowly he lowered her to the ground, making sure she was steady on her one good foot.

They stood there for a moment looking up at the brick building, neither of them wanting to separate. His arm felt so strong around her waist, protective even.

“I’ll help you upstairs,” he said, bringing her forward with him, beginning to walk towards the security door.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said sadly, wishing more than ever she had the courage to ask him in.

Painful as it was, she extracted her arm from his waist and began to fumble in her bag for the key.

“I can manage,” she lied through the heartache. “Besides, it’s late. You should get going.”

“Please, let me help you,” he said, his hand reaching for her keys. “I would feel better if you let me take a look at your ankle. I promise to behave as a gentleman.”

How could she say no?