Caught on Camera (12 page)

“So essentially, you left your fiancé for me?”

“Sure, Ty. If that makes you feel like a big man, sure. I've found our symbiosis very satisfying. Mystery solved.”

“So I'm just the sort of mess you were hoping for?”

“I didn't want a mess. I just wanted…” She wasn't sure how to end the statement.

“You need to be needed?”

“Sure, Peter Gabriel.”

Ty ignored her comment and rolled her onto her back, straddling her. “And now you feel like I don't need you anymore so you hate me? Has my decision emasculated you?”

“No, but if I had a dick you'd be withering it with all this Freudian psychobabble bull,” Kate said.

“Fine, I'll leave it then.”

“What a good idea—”

“But I
do
need you,” he said.

“Well, you better get your needs met while you still can.” She ran her eyes from his face down his long, powerful,
firelit body, to his cock, hovering erect above her navel. Kate memorized him, knowing this was an image she'd be loath to let fade once they managed to get back to their day-to-day lives.

Above her, Ty looked thoughtful. He ran a hand absently over his skin, from his hip to his thigh. The gesture was a potent reminder of how he'd looked earlier, during their strange on-camera standoff. She crossed her arms behind her head to indicate she expected another good show.

“Tell me, Ty…”

“Mmm?”

“Now that you've finally had me, has your itch been scratched?”

He offered her a slow, lazy smile and shook his head. “No. It'll be way worse now.”

“Oh?”

He nodded and the hand grazing his skin crossed over his hard stomach to stroke his erection. “Now that I know how good we are together, I'm ruined.”

It was Kate's turn to smile. She was uneasy about continuing this flirtation, about relinquishing any power to him by letting him know how much it had meant to her. But their bond was impossible to resist at moments like this. Watching his fist running up and down his cock, his body a playground of bare flesh just waiting to be used and enjoyed and made to beg for mercy… Her own body wouldn't allow her to pretend indifference. She stared at him with shameless fascination.

“There's going to be some mighty lonely nights waiting for us back in L.A.,” Ty said, his voice quiet, low and taunting.

“I'll have my memories.”

“So will I.”

“And my video.”

“And you know where I'll be all those nights. Just a twelve-minute drive from you, doing this.” He glanced down between his legs. “Thinking about what we've found here, together. What we've done. And I'm going to pray every bloody night that I'll hear your key in my lock, telling me you've come over to join me.”

“Ty.” Even Kate didn't know if she was trying to discourage him or just the opposite.

“Do you want to know what I think about the most, sweetheart?” he asked, his face taking on that glazed look of aroused distraction.

“What?”

“Your office, that corner of your living room with your desk and your files and that chair you paid like two hundred bucks for and I said it was mad.”

“Yeah.”

“I think about you, in a skirt, in that stupid overpriced chair, and me on my knees in front of it, and your legs wrapped around my ears while I taste you.”

Kate's core spasmed. She swallowed. “And what am I doing, in this fantasy?”

“Oh, you're just ignoring me. Or pretending to. Making your endless phone calls, updating the website…but you slowly come undone with every lap from my tongue until I feel your hand on the back of my head, taking control.”

“How perfectly apropos.” Kate had spent plenty of hours ignoring Ty while he lazed around her living room, reading her gossipy women's magazines, amusing himself while she finished with business so they could go out for dinner or a drink. “Is that what you've been thinking about all those times I kept you waiting?”

He just smiled.

“You're a very bad man.”

His hand quickened. “Tell me you thought about me, too.”

“I did,” she admitted. She freed one hand from behind her head, and slid it between their bodies. Crooking a finger, she ran it over the soft skin of Ty's inner thigh. She dragged it slowly across his balls a few times before she cupped him, eliciting an involuntary thrust that made the powerful muscles of his hips and abdomen stand out in the flickering shadows of the firelight.

“Tell me, Katie. I want to know what you'll be thinking about when we get back, all those lonely nights.”

Her heart beat hard against her ribs, but more than she feared giving up some power and admitting her feelings, she wanted to share them. Just a bit, a taste of how she really felt behind the stubborn facade. She held his eyes. “I always just fantasized about us finally giving in, after all that time. Just in my bed, or a motel bed, or a tent. Just you and me, discovering each other.”

He shifted now, moving his knees between hers and slipping inside her like they'd been doing this for years. His voice turned heavy and dark. “And now what will you think about? Now that we've given in?”

Kate toyed with being cruel and dismissive, but thought better of it. “Now I know what you look like, Ty. And how good you are. I'll just relive what's gone on, here in this place.” She glanced around the shack, their unexpected honeymoon suite—the place where they had both finally surrendered.

“Good.” He slid in and out of her, smooth and slow. “I'll be so close. You could always come over, and let me give you more. Let me give you whatever you can dream of.”

“You know we—”

A terrifying blast shattered the peace, and Kate watched Ty's face contort with horror, illuminated by a sudden orange flash.

K
ATE JERKED HER HEAD BACK
to see what had caused the explosion of noise and light.

“Oh my God!”

White smoke billowed into the small cabin as flames licked through a burst seam in the woodstove's chimney. A foot from the ceiling, the metal chute glowed bright, angry red.

They tumbled from the bed and Kate was racked by convulsive coughs as the smoke closed in on them. She doubled over and felt Ty grasp her by the upper arms. He rushed her to the door and yanked it open, shoving her out into the driving snow and the damp, permeating cold, the blessed clear air. Icy slush enveloped her bare feet to the ankles. Heavy wet flakes whipped her naked body and obscured her vision as the gusting wind stripped all the heat from her skin. An almighty cough forced the smoke from her lungs and she found her voice.

“Ty, get the camera!”

He'd gone back inside and she couldn't tell if he'd heard her. She rubbed her sternum, chest tight from the freezing air and the smoke and the fear. Amid the sounds of the fire
she heard glass break and smoke billowed from the little side window.

“Ty?”

Things flew from the cabin—the sleeping bag, their clothes. Ty's boot soared through the door and struck her hard in the shin. She backed up a few paces, feet prickling from the icy soup underfoot. More items followed—the pack, more clothes, then finally Ty's tall form, a firelit vision of bare muscle, obediently lugging the camera.

“Here!” he shouted, his voice hoarse as he dropped the equipment at her feet with a wet thump. “Here's your bloody camera!”

He turned to root around in the strewn items, finding his jeans and pulling them on, then his shirt. Kate followed suit, finding all of her clothes save one sock. Flames burned bright from the chimney, illuminating the bizarre scene. She glanced over at Ty tugging his boots over bare feet that were surely as wet and aching as her own. His actions seemed jerky and agitated, made more frantic by the chaotic, dancing light. She stepped to him, picking up her hat as she approached.

“Holy crap,” she said, tugging it on. “That was messed up.”

“Messed up?
That
was messed up?” His eyes snapped back and forth between hers, making him look crazy. His head snapped to one side, as if an invisible hand had slapped the sense back into him. The manic energy left him, as quickly as it had come.

Kate shivered in her wet clothes. They still had at least three hours before sunrise.

“We've got to get dry,” she said, and Ty nodded. She grabbed the camera and followed him to the opposite side of the cabin, upwind from the smoke and flames. The blaze had spread to the roof, though the snow seemed to
be dampening it. They stood as close to the fire as they dared, but with its heat whipped away by the winds, it was useless for drying their clothes. Kate's panic grew as her violent shivers deepened. Her teeth chattered.

“Jesus, Ty, what do we do?” Recent sexual phenomena aside, she couldn't remember ever putting him in charge off camera before now.

“We let the fire burn itself out.” He sounded remarkably calm. “Film it.” He nodded at the camera bag by their feet, his tone difficult to interpret. “I know that's what you want.”

Kate obeyed, unsure of what else to do. She hoisted the camera and switched it to night vision, trained it on Ty's face.

“Well,” he began. “I'm tempted to use a different word, but I'm sure they'll just bleep it out in editing. This is massively effed up.” Ty turned away to stare at the burning cabin and Kate took it in with the lens. He faced forward again. “It's about…I don't know, three in the morning, maybe, and I think what we're looking at is a creosote fire. I've never seen one in person before, but when I turned to look up at the metal chimney of the woodstove a few minutes ago, while the crew and I were camped out peacefully right inside there, it was glowing bright orange. Molten hot. It split open along a seam and the rest is history.” He shrugged, looking dumbfounded. “As you can probably tell, the storm's still going great guns, and we're pretty soaked. It's so furious I can't imagine making any kind of snow den now without risking our necks with hypothermia. If I can, I want to see if these flames die down and maybe try and make a lean-to with whatever's left. Maybe knock the bad bit off the chimney and at least get a little fire going again. Fire's key. We're in serious trouble here if we can't get warm and dry as soon as possible.…”

He trailed off, turning away, and Kate joined him in watching the shelter that had finally brought them together as lovers crumble down to smoking ash.

Ty caught Kate's eye and shook his head. “Turn it off.” As soon as she cut the power he dropped to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. A sound like an animal being choked issued from deep inside him.

“Ty.” Kate crouched and put a hand on his back. He was either retching or sobbing, she couldn't tell which. She ignored her stinging feet and rubbed his back for a few minutes. Eventually his breathing slowed and he stood, looking slightly more like his usual confident self. He offered no explanation for the breakdown.

For a long while they stared at the cabin in silence. The roof was still burning but the smoke had thinned and the fire seemed to be losing its fight with the snow. Kate felt thankful for the moldy wood. If this thing had been new it probably would have gone up in a heartbeat. As the flames died, so did their light.

Ty trudged a few paces to rummage through Kate's frame pack. “Is there a torch in here?”

“Yeah, there should be. Front pocket.”

He found the flashlight and switched it on, training the beam around them.

“It's looking pretty solid,” Kate offered, and as she said it there was a great creaking sound. In a rush of snow and ash, the roof caved in on the cabin. “Oh.”

“Jinx,” he murmured, and she knew the old Ty had returned to her.

A few minutes later he ventured inside the shell of the softly smoking former shelter and returned with the folding chair. He set it beside Kate in the snow. When she sat down it sank four inches into the slushy mess.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“They're tingly. And not in a good way.”

“You find socks?”

“One.”

“That's one more than I found. Let this be a lesson to the viewers at home.”

“What? Don't fling your clothes around willy-nilly when you're having a tryst in an emergency cabin with an old chimney?”

He nodded, looking hesitant but amused.

“This trip is not going as smoothly as I'd envisioned,” Kate sighed, staring into the dark woods. “There was nothing about a blizzard or a sled wreck or a creosote fire in my itinerary.”

She felt Ty's hand alight on her hat. “Anything else you'd like to add to that list?”

“You're speaking of my being savaged by a wild animal, I assume?”

His fingers drummed the crown of her head.

“Yes, that was unexpected, as well. As were…other things.” She didn't want to completely open the wound of being forced off the best part of the show, plus seeing Ty so upset held her back from starting another argument.

“I'm going back in,” he said.

She said nothing, just watched his back as he walked away from her.

 

T
Y LEFT
K
ATE AND APPROACHED
the shelter with the torch. He stood in the doorway and swung the beam around, searching for errant fires, listening for ominous creaks. “Looks safe-ish,” he shouted behind him. “But hang back, let me be sure.”

He pressed a palm against one of the walls and it felt cool enough. He was being impatient and probably pushing things beyond what was strictly advisable, but goddamn, it
was cold. They needed fire. He was too underrested and too underfed to bother being cautious. This entire trip seemed doomed, anyhow. He suspected karma was driving this disaster, finally ready to collect on his old debts. Fine if it were only his neck on the line. That Kate was involved was deeply troubling. More troubling than the cold or the damp or the danger.

Ty walked all around the cabin, pressing on the walls to see how sturdy they were. Somewhat assured, he crept inside, over the floor now strewn with wet, scalded roof shingles and burned beams. Kate's lighter had been sitting on the shelf before the explosion and Ty found it beside the stove, reduced to a lump of molten plastic. He found the axe, as well, blackened but otherwise unscathed. It was warm to the touch, but not hot. He picked it up, pausing a moment before raising it over his shoulder and swinging it against the split in the stove's now-freestanding chimney. With two whacks it broke off completely, clattering to the debris-cluttered floor. Ty gave it a kick for good measure, just as he heard Kate's cautious footsteps behind him in the rubble.

“Your lighter's buggered,” he said. “You have any tinder?” He heard her moving, the zipper swishing open on the pack. He used the axe to break the burned-out back wall of the cabin open farther, prying off the blackened edges of the boards and tossing a pile of them next to the stove. He rummaged in his pockets and was surprised to find his flint stick still where it always was. It seemed unthinkable that anything should be so dependable at this moment.

“Here.” Kate held out a strip of cotton gauze from the first aid kit she always packed and he took it. Authenticity could kiss Ty's ass right now.

Soon there was a small fire burning innocently in the belly of the stove that had started all this drama. Ty cleaned
his sooty hands with a palmful of snow and wiped them on his jeans.

“Good work,” Kate said.

He swiveled his head to look at her. Standing beside him, she looked rumpled but calm, and he could feel his heart aching as though some unseen fist were trying to squeeze the life from it. He put his hands on either side of Kate's head and brought his own down to it, mashing her forehead hard against his lips and holding her there.

“Ow, Ty.”

He ignored her protest, held her tighter.

“You're hurting me.”

Well, at least that proved he hadn't killed her. He pressed his lips against her skin for one last breath and released her.

Kate pointed at the stove's fresh fire, flickering away. “How about that? Premade char wood.”

It was odd, looking at her now. An hour ago they'd been in this same space, making love by the light of this stove. Now they stood on the remains of the roof, thick flakes of snow and ash flurrying around them like gloomy confetti.

“Wind's not too bad,” she said. “We could use some cover, though. What do you think?”

“I think you should go bring that chair back inside and put your feet up by the fire. I want to get you back to L.A. with all your toes.”

“Fine.”

As Kate followed his orders—a change in itself—Ty went to work on the wood. He gathered all the old beams that had formerly held the roof up and got them ready for the fire. A makeshift lean-to would be tough. Hacking apart any of the walls might cause the entire place to collapse. Instead he took the axe to the door hinges and splintered it free, then dug the bed out from under the snow and debris and tossed
the useless, half-burned mattress aside. He replaced it with the door, creating a sort of platform over which he spread the sleeping bag—melted at one corner but otherwise fine. He dragged the assemblage close to the fire, kicking Kate out of her prime foot-drying space.

“I've seen the marriage bed looking better,” she said, joining him in sitting on the door-turned-table, huddling close to the stove.

“I'm sorry about all this,” Ty said, wanting to put his arm around her, but feeling so utterly cursed right now he was scared to touch her.

“It's not your fault. It's not like we had time to check for creosote buildup in the middle of a blizzard.”

“It's my show. You're here because of me.”

“Yeah, I am,” she said, her voice soft.

“I don't know why you like this job,” he said with a sigh. He watched her, the fat snowflakes gathering on her hat then melting and dripping onto her lap.

“Why wouldn't I?” Her eyes looked black in the dim light, and shiny like glass. “It's like the coolest job ever. And I have a good life insurance policy.”

He stared at her, hard. “That's not funny. Do you get why I can't let you do this anymore?”

“Yeah, and you're completely wrong. And I
will
talk you out of it by the time we get back to civilization.”

He shook his head.

“We'll see. I just wish you could grasp how ridiculous it is, you thinking something's too dangerous. I've seen your climbing videos. You've got no right to tell people they're risking too much.”

He shook his head. “That's different. That's only my neck on the line. I can't let you get hurt doing something for me.”

“It's not just for you. I love our show.”

Ty stared at the flames. “I know you do.”

“Sometimes I think I love it more than you do,” she said.

“Doesn't that strike you as a bit unhealthy, Kate?”

“Nope.” She fiddled with the hem of her pants for a moment. “I like having something to call my own.”

“You should get a dog.”

She fixed him with unamused eyes. “And you should wear a harness when you climb. But neither of us is going to change. I'll always be a control freak, and you'll always have a death wish. I'll drop dead of a stress-related heart attack at fifty and you'll finally meet your end at the bottom of some crevasse. But if either of us had to change tomorrow, we'd be dead the day after.”

Ty didn't reply, his eyes leaving her face to watch the fire.

“People don't change,” Kate said in conclusion.

“Yeah, they do. If something else matters enough.”

“Well, I've never met anybody who changed for the better. At least not permanently. Trust me. I've got eight siblings who've never even managed to make it twenty miles from their hometown, who still get up to all the same bull they did in high school, with all the same people.”