Picture This by Jayne Denker

headset and tucked the phone away to indicate he was done talking to other people.
    â€œWhat do you want to know?”
    He shrugged. “Anything. Just tell me about her. What was she like when you were growing up? You said you were her favorite—I’ll bet you guys baked cookies together, didn’t you?”
    â€œAre you going to make fun of me if we did?”
    â€œOf course not. I think it’s cute. What’s her name?”
    â€œWhy are you so interested in my grandmother?”
    â€œI’ve got a soft spot for old ladies.”
    â€œRight alongside the one you’ve got for teenage girls?”
    â€œDon’t be gross.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œLook, about Naomi—”
    â€œIt’s okay. I get it. I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. You were trying to do a good thing that got misinterpreted.”
    Celia studied him; a few locks of his longish hair were being tugged out the slit of open window by the car’s slipstream, his striking features locked in a grim expression. Obviously he was very concerned about how the whole thing with Naomi looked.
    â€œDon’t say it’s okay if you don’t mean it, just to shut me up or something.”
    â€œI’m not.” She paused. “Why do you care what I think, anyway?”
    Niall pinned her with an intense, steady gaze for as long as he allowed himself to look away from the road. It was only a couple of seconds, but to Celia it felt like ages. He looked her over, just as he had the day they met—had it really been less than a week ago?—but this time, when he scanned her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, it wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t lustful. Well, wait—scratch that. It was lustful. But it was also . . . something more. Finally he murmured, “I’m still trying to figure that out. All I know is . . . it matters. A lot.”
    Celia struggled to take a breath, and she was glad when he returned his attention to driving. Then again, she wasn’t.
    â€œDon’t worry, though,” he muttered briskly, almost as though he were talking to himself. “Hands to myself. On the steering wheel, eight and four, like a good boy. Chaperone balloon animal is chaperoning.” And that simply communicated to her, quite clearly, that he wanted those hands of his to be somewhere else entirely. She wondered what he would do with those hands, given half a chance.
    Her skin prickling, she turned her head away and studied the thick, dense trees glutting the side of the highway. It was warm in the car. Way too warm, all of a sudden. She put the window down and tipped her head, letting the rushing air cool her suddenly hot cheeks.
    A strong gust of wind swept through the car, tangling Celia’s hair in her eyes. She pulled it away and cleared her vision just in time to see the balloon animal lift off. In an instant it was sucked out the window. Niall looked at her again, one eyebrow raised. Then he looked back at the road. Celia cleared her throat uncomfortably.
    â€œTwenty miles to Marsden?” he exclaimed, surprised, as they passed a large green sign on the side of the road.
    â€œTold you it was far.”
    â€œNo, I mean . . . only twenty more miles?”
    â€œWait . . . you want it to be farther away?”
    â€œWell, yeah! We haven’t had a chance to . . . you know . . .”
    â€œTalk?” He nodded, and Celia refrained from pointing out he’d spent most of the journey on his cell phone. “What did you have in mind?”
    Niall fidgeted, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I . . . you know . . . stuff.”
    â€œOh. Stuff. Of course. I know it well.”
    â€œLook, never mind.” He sighed. “We can discuss some . . . topics . . . later.”
    â€œLater?” When was later? Not when they got to Marsden, surely, as he was going to be in town for all of five minutes, or however long it took to