CHAPTER THIRTEEN: EXPOSURE

Your arms are lovely,
Yellow and rose.
Your back's a meadow,
Covered in snow.
Your thighs are thistles,
And hot house grapes.

You breathe a sweet breath,
And have me wait.

( Violet Hour, Sea Wolf )

THURSDAY
JASPER

Holy fucking shit.

I thought Alice couldn't look more beautiful than she did wearing that silk nightgown last night. Then I thought she couldn't look more beautiful than she did naked, splayed out on my bed, lips parted in pleasure. Really, that still comes in first. But this - this has to be a close second.

Alice described the dress she'd end up wearing as sheer. I know what sheer means. At least I thought I did. But whatever this thing is - it's a far cry from just sheer. The thing has straps to it, the black outline of a neckline and a hem, but everything in between is nonexistent - a thin, barely there veil of fabric covering her from knee to chest. The fabric, if I can even call it that, is decorated with silver stars, but there's not nearly enough of them to cover the black underwear she's got underneath, or the rest of her skin, left totally uncovered for everyone to see. For me to see. The best part are the mud-coated cowboy boots she's been wearing non-stop since Tuesday morning.

I clear my throat, alerting the woman of my presence, and then I breathe out the first thought to come to mind. "My good lord, you look absolutely divine."

Alice catches my reflection in the mirror and turns on her heel, her sparkling viel of a dress spinning around with her. "Jasper," she says, face barely twitching in recognition, "thank you."

Alice tucks a strand of wavy hair behind her ear and looks down at her dress, at the high heeled shoes clutched in her hand She never looks up. "I guess you've never seen me all dolled up like this, huh? This is my, uh, baseline back in New York."

I think she's joking, but maybe she's not. I can't tell. Her voice doesn't sound like her voice. I've lost Alice again, to some sort of facade.

"Well I think you'd look beautiful in a paper bag."

She smiles - kinda, maybe, almost - but doesn't say a word.

"Everyone is, uh, ready downstairs. We're just waitin' on you," I finally explain.

Alice's eyes flick from her shoes to my left hand, still bruised where it collided with that photographer's jaw. "Oh. Thanks," she says again, just as lamely.

"You alright?" I ask, cautiously walking into Rosalie's room. She looks back at my face and musters up a smile - the same timid, unsure thing she greeted me with last Sunday. "Of course," Alice answers, "I'm just a little overwhelmed. It's been a crazy morning." "It'd be understandable if you were upset, you know. It's been a weird mornin'. We could talk about it."

Alice breathes out a single huff of emotionless laughter. Her face - stoic, tight-lipped - stays locked in place all while she floats over to the bed and sets her shoes in the bag open there. "We don't have to do this, Jasper. Any of this. Besides - you don't have to check up on me, or defend me, or do anything for me, really. I'm more than capable of handling myself."

"Oh, I'm more than certain that you can handle yourself," I quickly agree. "I don't think anyone doubts that. You could've had James flat on his ass and beggin' for mercy if I didn't get there first."

"Then why did you -"

"I don't just stand there when I hear another man talkin' the way he was - sayin' what he was sayin'. It's wrong. I don't care who's talkin', I don't care who they're talkin' about, I just won't hear it. Especially not on my own property. My parents raised me right, you know, not to speak about a lady like that. I know I shouldn'ta reacted how I did, but that man got what was comin' for him."

Alice stops her busywork, turning to me with her done-up face locked in a frown. She stands there long enough to replay my entire speech in her head, maybe twice.

"And I - I want to do this part, the bein' here for you part. While I can."

"No, you don't," Alice mutters, a quick turn of her head shaking her curls out of place. She takes one hesitant step towards me, so I do the same.

"Yes, I do," I tell her, letting a smile stretch across my face.

"This isn't a relationship," Alice reminds me firmly. "I don't expect anything -"

"Then you're goin' to be pleasantly surprised."

She raises an eyebrow. The corners of her mouth twitch up for a split second. "Don't you have a family legacy to uphold or something? What happened to that?" Alice prods. "You spend a lot of time worrying about me for someone on the brink of collapse."

"Ouch," I say with a chuckle. "You tryin' to hurt my feelings or just get rid of me?"

"Both," she jokes. That tough exterior cracks, enough for me to see Alice through it all, and finally, she smiles. Everything else about her softens.

I reach out, curling my hands into that barely-there fabric. It scratches against my palms, just irritating enough to remind me how badly I want the thing off of her. My eyes wander down her body, enjoying the pale lines of her very visible legs.

"Seriously," Alice continues, her voice forcing my gaze back to her painted mouth. "You might just be the most generous man I've ever met."

"Well, I'm still tryin' to impress you," I shoot back, staill half-distracted. Now I'm looking at her eyes, at the impossibly black lashes surrounding them.

"Oh, so this is all a big act then?" She playfully asks, blinking up at me.

I nod my head, my smile growing into an outright grin. "Sure is," I answer. "Once I get you right where I want you, this whole sweet, Southern exterior melts away."

"And you didn't get me right where you wanted me last night?" She questions, all serious.

"Not quite." I tighten my grip around Alice's waist.

Alice's teeth sink into her bottom lip. "Where do you want me, then?"

On that bed, right there. Or the dresser. Or the desk. Any hard surface will do. "That's a dangerous question, Ms. Cullen. Especially when you're standin' here lookin' like that."

She sighs in reply, stretching up on the balls of her feet to kiss above the pocket of my shirt. It's just about as high as she can reach without any help. "Guess you'll have to tell me later, then," Alice allows, speaking into the fabric of my shirt. She turns her head up, looking at me with a red-lipped smile. I don't know what's better: how the sun hits the blue in her eyes in that moment, or how it shines off her impossibly sparkly cheeks.

I wish we had more time.

I tuck a wave of soft, inky black hair behind Alice's ear and let my fingers trail down along the line of her jaw. As we stand there stuck in silence, Alice's playful demeanour falters. She lets her guard down just long enough to remind me of our chaotic morning. I let out a heavy breath. "You goin' to tell me what happened between you 'n James?" I ask, dropping all pretense of humour. "I know he upset you more than you're lettin' on. I can tell."

Alice laughs incredulously and turns to fix her gaze on the bag of shoes and god-knows-what she's left on the bed. "That's not important," she mutters, looking back to me.

"Alice -"

"That's not important right now," she clarifies. "Right now I've got to work. I don't have time to think about anything other than getting through the day."

I drop it - for now - and move on to more pressing matters. "Are you at least gonna let me help you today?" I gently ask, smiling at her again.

"Since you insist," Alice breathes out, arms circling around my waist. She puts on a smile and says, "guess I'll take every minute you're willing to give."

"Every minute between now and Sunday," I say, effectively reminding myself of the inevitably-painful-and-all-together-doomed understanding between Alice and I.

I hate myself for saying it. Really, truly hate myself. Because, for the thousandth time since waking, I convinced myself that Alice and I weren't on a collision course. That we weren't a catastrophe waiting to happen. I finally had the tick, tick, tick of our dwindling time silenced altogether. I had my guard down. That can't happen.

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow, but it's the one I need to get through the next few days unscathed. I can't let myself feel for this woman - not anything past understanding, appreciation, lust. Anything deeper will only ensure pain for us both.

So I remind myself, again and again: Sunday. Sunday. Sunday. She's leaving you on Sunday.

Alice doesn't like it either. "Yes," she agrees, voice tight. She pats a hand against my chest and I let her go, standing in wait as she goes to collect what we'll need for the day. Alice returns to me with that bag hoisted up on her shoulder, and a meek smile on her face. "Between now and Sunday," she finally agrees.

I lean down to kiss her, but before my mouth reaches hers, she stops me by asking, "can you promise me one thing? Before we go back out there?" Her dainty little hand reaches out and curls around mine - the one still swollen in the places it collided with James' jaw. My heart does something unrecognizable when Alice touches me. It flips or twists or constricts - something I want to happen again.

"What is it?" I ask, absolutely helpless.

"No more fighting. I don't need anyone getting hurt on my accord."

"Of course not," I insist, but truthfully I'd make the same choice again if faced with the opportunity - with any man, woman, or animal that so much as looked wrong at the woman before me.

My answer puts a smile back on Alice's face. "Good," she says, lacing her fingers between mine, "then I guess I'm ready to go."

I lean down and kiss her cheek.

The mid-afternoon sun works wonders on the delicately stitched stars decorating Alice's dress. She wanders out into the world and illuminates the space around her, like silvery light is sewn into her very being. I follow in Alice's lead, one step behind, and watch her walk all the way down to the cabins. All my life I've been the leader, the kid in front, the one making the rules. I've never met a person I couldn't disarm with a little charm and a smile. Alice is different. Alice is - I don't know, exactly. She's got some kind of control over me - maybe over everyone - this unavoidable, invisible pull. The moon to our tides. Or mine, at least. So I stay behind. I follow her. Happily.

"Where are we headed today?" She asks me, the question putting a smile on my face.

"Somewhere," I vaguely answer.

Alice doesn't like that. She tries again. "Somewhere … what? Somewhere in a field? By the river? Out with the cows?"

"Something like that."

She huffs, arms crossing over her chest. I add one more to the list of facts I know about Alice: she doesn't like surprises. I, for a matter of fact, love surprises. I don't mind that sickeningly sweet pout on her face either.

I throw my arm around Alice's shoulders and laugh, refusing to bend against her show of disapproval. "Trust me, darlin', " I say, pulling her into my side, "if anyone knows the ins and outs of this place it's me. You're in good hands."

"I guess," Alice agrees, walking like that with me for a moment. Then she comes out in front of me, fierce eyes locked on my face, and stops us both only ten feet from our destination. "But you've never done a shoot before. There are specific things I'm looking for, you know."

"Oh, I know," I reply in a low voice. We both know I'm not talking about photography. Her nervous face cracks into a smile and I reach out and tuck a short little curl behind her ear. "I know all about the things you want," I continue needlessly, teasingly.

"Okay," Alice says, flushing such a deep shade of red I think she may never fade back to normal. "Don't get too cocky, Mr. One-Hit-Wonder."

I take mock offense. "What? One hit wonder? I am not a one-and-done kind of man. By my count - and I was always pretty good with numbers - it was more like two, or three, if you count - "

"Jasper! We're working," Alice demands, urging me to stop with a stern glance.

I deftly ignore the downpour of embarrassment dripping off Alice and throw her a chaste smile. "You're the one who started it," I tease.

"Uh, no," she argues, "I'm pretty sure you -"

I want to remind Alice that she was the one who wandered into my office half dressed last night, but it seems our moment has been cut short. I clear my throat and stand a little taller, alerting to Alice that we're no longer alone. Alice knowingly snaps her mouth shut, just before one of her done-up models swings an arm around her neck.

I watch as any and all ease rubs right off Alice's face.

"Allie girl," the woman says, in a sweet, sing-song voice, "are we going to stand here flirting all day or is this fine cowboy of yours going to take us where we need to go?"

I smile bright at the blonde and tilt my hat in her direction. "My apologies, ma'am."

The blonde likes that.

Alice wraps an arm around her waist, forcing herself to laugh at the woman's expression. "We're all ready to go, Tanya. Wherever it is we're going." Alice turns her eyes to me, brows raised in question.

"Still not tellin'," I answer. "You'll like it. I promise." What's more important - a fact I don't want to worry Alice with - is that it might be the only dry spot on the ranch.

"That's good enough for me," the woman - Tanya - says.

"Well, if it's good enough for you," Alice sarcastically agrees.

Tanya leaves and I turn my attention back to Alice. "Allie girl?" I ask, a single brow raised in question.

"Don't," she insists in a huff.

I let out a laugh just as Alice pushes past me, headed towards the rest of the girls.

Alice takes control of her flock better than any wrangler I've ever seen. They gather when she calls, dressed like a flock of peacocks or flamingos or whatever, and wait for Alice's word in a seemingly practiced crescent around her. The woman barely even has to raise her voice and her models obey, within a second flat. It's impressive. Better than I've ever been able to handle my men. I take my place behind them and watch as Alice inspects them all, double checking with each and every woman to see they're ready for the day. It's almost funny, how small she is compared to the rest of them, especially once they're right side by side. The only one who's even near Alice's size is Tanya.

I lead them down past my house, towards my sturdy black truck. Alice keeps her eyes on me, burning silent questions into the side of my face. She doesn't need to speak for me to hear her asking: where are we going?

"Alright, everyone get on in the back," I instruct.

Alice slows to a stop, the rest of the girls stopping alongside her."Of the truck?" Alice asks me, "you want us to get in the -?"

I drop my hand onto the side of the truck bed. "Fastest way to get you all there. Or are you plannin' on hikin' through the brush in all the finery of yours?"

Alice glances towards Angela, who shrugs her shoulders in return. While they mutter back and forth about the safety of it all, I open the hatch on the tailgate and step aside, waiting to see what they might decide.

Before either can come to a decision, another woman - one of the blondes - shoves forward. "Come on, we're already wasting light. Just get in the freakin' truck."

Alice keeps frowning, but I flash her a smile. "Y'all won't get dirty, I promise. Yesterday Quil lost a bet 'n got stuck with wash duty. Should be perfectly clean in there."

That convinces her. "Alright," she begrudgingly says, waving the girls forward. "Go on, then. Everyone get in the truck. But dear God, Whitlock," Alice huffs out, turning to stare me down, "you better drive slow. I don't want anyone showing up with flies in their teeth … or falling to their death," Alice adds, rather overdramatically.

I shoot her a smirk. "Then I'd suggest they hold on tight."

She seems to enjoy my humour just about as much as I'd enjoy a bat to the shin.

"I'll drive slow," I say in surrender.

All the models and Angela - Alice's new photographer and my new favourite of the bunch - pile into the back of my truck with the equipment, while Alice takes the seat up front. I slide in beside her and watch in wait for the truckload of curls and makeup in back to settle before starting up the engine.

"Everyone hold on," I say over my shoulder, out the window in the back of the truck's cab.

The drive to the furthest edges of the Whitlock property is a handsome one. I take the meandering dirt road that winds west, through field after field, passing by herds of our Jersey cows, until we eventually meet up with the river that curves across the ranch. I drive opposite the current, taking the truck up towards the highest point in the property. Every so often I find myself distracted by the very excited group in the truck bed, who have proven themselves incapable of listening to the one and only rule I've given them. They wiggle around and lean out over the edge nonstop, acting more like a rowdy bunch of teens than anything else. I don't even mind. It makes Alice smile and laugh and act like the weight on her shoulders isn't so heavy.

When we finally roll to a stop, about half a mile from the westernmost border of the property, the flow of excited voices chirping around me has ebbed substantially. Alice, for one, is silent - maybe stunned - beside me.

We sit quiet like that for a second, until Alice finally talks. "There weren't pictures of this online," she breathes out, blinking in shock at the view before us. "No," I answer, explaining, "I wouldn't want guests wanderin' out this far alone. But the good news is that you're lucky enough to have me with you today. The even better news is that Embry saw the sheep come 'round here just twenty minutes ago. Stayed for awhile, too. Means it's dry enough to tread through," I say, turning off the rattling engine.

Alice stares at me blankly. "I'm sorry," she says, "you have sheep?"

I grin. "Most efficient lawn mowers I ever had."

"I thought you only had cattle."

"We only sell cattle," I correct, "but we've been home to all kinds of livestock. Back when I was real young, we had goats. Angora goats, I think. 'N for a few years, my dad ventured into Buffalo, too. That was wild," I say with a grin. "Felt like real old school cowboys." I work my way out of my seatbelt, and keep babbling on to fill the quiet between us. "Now - I checked when y'all were gettin' ready, and it seems to me this spot is still pretty together after the rain last night. I remembered you wanted some pictures in that southern meadow, the one with all those wildflowers, 'n it didn't work the first time, so -"

Alice floats away as I'm talking, moving out of the truck and out towards the fantastic, rolling landscape we've woven ourselves into. Bluebonnets stretch as far as the eye can see, hugging along the hills that swoop back down towards the river, way below.

I find my way back to Alice's side, taking in the birdseye view of the ranch spread out below us.

Deep yellow sun lights everything around us ablaze, from the rust coloured dirt to the pink of Alice's lipsticked grin. Her amazement is infectious. I've lived on this land every day of my life, let it become background noise - static - but looking out at the whirlwind of colour expanding towards the horizon, seeing it all through Alice's eyes, I'm overcome with admiration.

"Jasper, this is incredible," Alice mutters.

"It is, isn't it?" I actually feel lucky.

"This is perfect. Holy crap, this is perfect." I hear Angela repeat in the background, her voice growing closer and closer to us. Once she's right up beside us, Angela says, "you've been holding out on us, Whitlock."

Alice turns her head, eyeing me just a moment too long. "You certainly have," she breathes.

I can feel Alice watching me. I smile, but keep my eyes firmly on Angela as she wanders past us to explore her new workspace.

"Jasper?"

I feel something nudge my hand. I glance down to find Alice's hand right there beside it, her knuckles only a hair's width away from my own. I stretch out my fingers, letting them tangle between hers just long enough to acknowledge her, to say, I'm still here. "This good enough for you?" I ask, working hard to keep up with a professional pretense.

"Better than I ever expected," she says, fingers curling around mine before I can escape. "Thank you."

My heart does that thing again.

A/N:

Just to start off - yeah, I know, I'm flat out just picking music off the twilight soundtracks now. This is the one exception because this song 1) SLAPS, and 2) fits this chapter pretty darn well.

I sincerely apologizing for disappearing for so long there! I would up stuck in bed with strep throat for awhile, which totally threw me off schedule. I was hoping to get this out last week, and then earlier THIS week, but that didn't happen. Either way, it's finished now, and part two of this chapter shall arrive on schedule next Tuesday (unless, I don't know, my life decides to be wild again). As always, you can check out my tumblr - www . twiwrite . tumblr . com for any and all update information. If you don't see a chapter up come Tuesday, I guarantee there will be more information there!

FUN INFORMATION BELOW!

While I was out sick, I hit a follower milestone on Tumblr! To celebrate, I'm doing a little mini giveaway, which I'll be posting one on my main tumblr ( empathetic - cowboy ) as well!

So here it is!

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If you want a drabble , simply comment below with the pairing you'd like me to write about, and a specific genre and/or prompt! (ie: edward / bella - romance , seth / leah - wacky sibling adventure , esme / carlisle - first meeting etc), and your username will be added to a list! My final four ( 2 from here / a03, 2 from my tumblr followers ) will be picked & random and will receive a 4000-8000 word one-shot based off the twilight pairing (romantic, platonic, cannon, or otherwise) of their choice!

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I will be accepting names for ONE WEEK, until next TUESDAY, OCTOBER 22ND & winners will be messaged directly THE NEXT DAY via their inbox.

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