Naughty or Nice

11. Henry

11

HENRY

DECEMBER 10

R ora’s cheeks are rosy, but we can blame that on the cold. My underwear took the brunt of our parking lot fun. Thank god I wore black jeans to work this morning. I cleaned up as best as I could in the driver’s seat, but I don’t care how messy things got; feeling Rora come on my fingers, watching her so desperate for me that she climbed onto my lap the second I stopped the car, is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. Rora is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.

A soft bell chimes above the door as we enter the camera store, stomping the snow from our boots on the welcome mat. A woman looks up from behind the counter, her face lighting up behind thick, purple-framed glasses.

“Is that my Rora girl?” She drops the magazine in her hand and rushes out from behind the counter, scooping Rora up in her arms.

“Hey, Bobbi.” Rora hugs her before introducing us. “Bobbi’s been friends with my parents for years,” she explains as Bobbi leads us across the store.

She leans against the counter, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I can’t believe you’re here at this time of year. I haven’t seen snow in your hair since you were a teenager.”

“I had a … break from work, and Noelle’s usual Santa photographer bailed, so she asked me to come ho me,” Rora says, brushing the snow from her hair. It lands on her shoulders, melting into her sweater.

“And I bet you’re hating every second of it.”

Rora glances my way for a second before replying, “Not every second.”

The urge to reach for her, to wrap my arms around her and press my lips to the top of her head, is intense. And not exactly in line with just one night at her place and an orgasm in the car. Fuck.

If Bobbi notices the threads of tension between us, she doesn’t comment. “I know you didn’t drive all the way up here in the snow just to see me. What’s going on, my girl?”

Rora reaches into her tote bag and pulls out the wreckage, eliciting a gasp from Bobbi. A piece of the casing falls off as Rora sets the camera down on the counter and she winces.

“I suspect I already know, but do you think this can be fixed?”

“Can a bobcat outrun a pronghorn?”

Rora’s brows meet in the middle. “No?”

“Then I’d say you’re shit out of luck.”

“That’s what I figured.” Rora sighs, rubbing her face with her hands. “Please tell me you have one in stock.”

Bobbi picks up the camera and promptly puts it down when more of the casing crumbles in her hand. “This, we have. But the lens… I don’t think we have this exact one. Antonio!” she hollers, drawing a lanky college-aged boy from the back.

I tune them out as they discuss lenses, brands, and all kinds of things that make zero sense to me. But it’s nice to see Rora in her element. I love watching her take pictures, but we’ve barely left The Enchanted Workshop since we both arrived in town. This is the first time I’ve really seen her talking about the thing she loves most in the world with people who know what she’s talking about. As stressed as she is about dropping her savings on a new camera, I can see the excitement in her eyes as she picks up different lenses to inspect them .

I want to know what else makes her light up like this. We’ve spent enough time together—breaks in the grotto between kids and decompressing in the back room on our lunch break—that I’ve noticed the little things she does. Like scrolling through Instagram and screenshotting things to send her parents because they, apparently, never check their Instagram messages. Or the way she takes a handheld gaming console everywhere with her. I don’t know what she’s playing, but I see how her shoulders relax whenever she’s playing it. And then there’s the sour candy. How many times have I seen her unwrap one of those little candies and breathe a happy little sigh when it hits her tongue?

I startle as Rora grasps my arm. “You okay? You kind of zoned out for a second there.”

“Yeah, shit, sorry. Is that the one you’re getting?” I ask, nodding to the camera and lens in her hand.

“I think so, but I’m going to run outside and see what I think of the lens in natural light. Want to come?”

“I’m going to look around, but take your time, sugar.”

Rora squeezes my arm before letting go and heading outside with Antonio.

The second the door closes behind them, I pull my wallet from my pocket and turn to Bobbi. “Can you charge all of this to my card before she comes back in and gets pissed off at me?”

I hold out my card, and Bobbi plucks it from my fingers, chuckling. “You know her well.”

Not as well as I’d like to .

She runs her eyes over my credit card and raises a brow. “Whitten. You’re related to Noelle?”

I scratch the back of my neck. “She’s my niece.”

Something tells me Bobbi has never hidden a single emotion in her life. Shock crosses her face, morphing to mild distaste. It’s a reasonable reaction to finding out the man hanging around the twenty-something you’ve known since she was a kid is not only much older than her but her best friend’s uncle. It doesn’t feel as weird as it did—she’s an adult and perfectly capable of deciding who and what she wants—but I’m not na?ve. I know how this looks.

I suppose it’s a good thing that it was only one night at her place and one orgasm in the car. Even if just thinking that sours my stomach.

Bobbi swipes my card and turns the screen toward me, holding it just a little out of my reach. The number on the screen is staggering, but I’ve been living rent-free on a research station for over a decade and my new job has a significant salary increase. I’m lucky enough that I won’t even notice a dent in my savings, and I don’t want Rora depleting hers when she’s still figuring shit out with her job.

“You’re not paying for this because you expect something in return, are you?”

“Of course not,” I answer immediately.

Bobbi looks unconvinced, and though I’m glad Rora has people on her side, I don’t want to mention her job loss. I’m guessing she hasn’t told her parents yet since they’re off grid, and the last thing she needs right now is someone telling them before she can.

“Look, she’s been having a rough couple of months, and she’s stuck here at Christmas. I just don’t want her to have to worry about money on top of that,” I explain.

Bobbi pushes the screen toward me. “You seem like an okay guy, I suppose. And even if you were expecting something from her, Rora doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to. That girl learned how to be headstrong from her parents and was more stubborn than them both by the time she started school. That’s why we love her.”

I sign the screen and turn away, peering out the window while Bobbi processes the payment. Rora’s hair is fluttering in the breeze as she peers intently at the camera’s preview screen, her face intense with concentration .

“She’s something else,” I agree with Bobbi, my lips pulling up in a grin when Rora looks up and catches me watching her.

She gives me a knowing look through the window before reentering the store and raising an eyebrow. “You’re making a habit of this whole watching thing,” she quips.

“I’ve been meaning to get a new hobby, and I’ve got to say, I’m really enjoying it.”

Rora snorts, rolling her eyes as she sets the camera down on the counter.

“How’s the lens?” From the outside, it looks exactly the same as her old one to me, but I’m sure Rora is going to make magic with it.

“It’s good—versatile, which is what I look for. I hate carrying a bunch of stuff around with me,” she grumbles, digging in her tote bag. She pulls her wallet and grimaces. “Just swipe my card and don’t tell me the damage,” she says, handing her card over.

Bobbi doesn’t take it. “Actually…” Shit. Here we go . “It’s already paid for.”

Rora’s face morphs from dread to confusion. “What do you…”

Bobbi’s eyes flick quickly to me and back again, but Rora clocks it. She turns.

I try not to make eye contact with her, but fuck , her eyes are pretty. “Sugar, I?—”

“No,” she interrupts. “Absolutely fucking not. Refund him, please,” she tells Bobbi.

“We don’t actually do refunds,” Antonio interjects, and Rora sucks in a breath.

“Then make an exception, Antonio.” She sounds deadly calm, and Antonio looks like he’s one second from bolting.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Bobbi says, tugging Antonio into the back. Wise.

Rora whirls on me, but I grab her hand and she pauses before, presumably, tearing into me .

“Hear me out.”

“There’s nothing you can say that will make me okay with you spending thousands of dollars on me, Henry.”

“I wanted to.”

Rora blinks like she was expecting something more. Understandable, because that’s a weak fucking excuse. “You … wanted to?”

“Yeah. I know you can afford it, but you shouldn’t have to drain your savings because your asshole ex was trying to get handsy with you. And I like watching you take pictures, sugar.”

She sighs but doesn’t drop my hand. I take that as a good sign and step a little closer to her.

“I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you , I guess, since I can tell I’m not going to change your mind.”

“You’re welcome.”

Rora drops my hand, just to wrap her arms around my middle, resting her head against my chest. “You’re a really good guy.” She sounds resigned.

I hug her back, nestling one hand in her hair. “You seem real pissed off about that.”

“You’re making it difficult for me to do the things I should and not the things I want to. It’s a problem for me.”

And it’s a problem for me how much I like hearing that.