So why did Nathan make something in her core quiver like a needy bird?

“You guys grew up together?” There was a low timbre of stress audible in Derrick’s voice. He might be attempting to keep the situation laid-back, but there was no getting around it. Somehow she must have let her unwelcome attraction to Nathan show. Guilt hit. Her growing relationship with Derrick was about more than simply sex—she didn’t want to hurt him.

Nathan popped open his wallet and passed a picture to Derrick. “My little sister Katy and Mel were best friends growing up. I think since day one. Our gap in ages meant I wasn’t around that much, though.”

Enough for her to have had a mad teenage crush on him. Melanie scrambled for safe topics. “Katy said you were working for Rave magazine. How’s that going?”

Nathan flashed his bright smile and she fought against the spark it lit inside her core. “It’s been the best move of my career. With bimonthly releases, I get a ton of work from them. I’m on assignment, and while they occasionally call with last-minute shots they want for the files, most of the time I’m out for a couple weeks at a time doing human-interest stories. Like right now.”

Human interest? In this neck of the woods? “Who’s so interesting around here? One of the environmentalist programs? Bear handling?” Melanie teased, sipping her coffee.

“You.”

She choked on her mouthful, spitting back into her cup. “Me? What are you talking about? I just moved here. I have nothing to do with the area.”

He laughed. “It’s not the location, monkey, it’s you. We’ve got a series of ‘where are they now’ articles in the works, and you’re—”

“No way.” She leaned back in her chair, the ache in her hip a clear reminder of what he was talking about. “You want to talk about the accident? Jesus, Nate, I thought the blood-suckers got all the mileage out of that disaster back when it happened.”

“It’s not like that, Mel, just hear me out.”

“I don’t want to show the old pictures—”

“We won’t.”

Derrick slipped an arm around her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not about the past, it’s about where you are now. What you’ve been doing and how you’ve headed into the future.” Nathan’s piercing blue eyes locked with hers and refused to let her go. “When they mentioned your name I thought it was a brilliant suggestion. Do you know how many people you could encourage? How many victims of car accidents or burns could see you living life to the fullest and become motivated to do the same?”

Her stomach fell, all the simmering sexual interest vaporizing and drifting away on the breeze. How could she be an inspiration to others when she had barely peeked her head out of her own personal hellhole? She’d made some headway since moving, and getting involved with Derrick had done wonders for a bunch of her psychoses, but as a role model for others?

Bullshit.

“Nathan, I…I can’t do it.” Her mouth was completely dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “I mean, I’m employed at the post office. It’s not as if I’m a brain surgeon or a schoolteacher or anyone who makes a difference in other people’s lives.”

“But you could make a difference. Mel, I saw you in the gym. You were working that wall, pumping it out when I know damn well you didn’t walk for months after the accident. It took a lot of determination for you to get back to being physically strong, and I think you’ve underestimated how remarkable that is.”

It was too much. She turned to Derrick and buried her face in his shirt. He held her close, rubbing her back. He remained silent, not taking over and she was so grateful. It took a minute to regain enough control that she could twist her head to stare at Nathan while remaining in the safe shelter of Derrick’s arms.

Nathan’s princely good looks had matured, or maybe it was the fact she was no longer looking through love-struck teenage eyes. He’d cut his dark hair into a close, professional style, and she imagined all the women at his magazine vied for his attention when he was in the office. No doubt tossing themselves at his feet and willingly crawling between his sheets on a nightly basis.

But right now, with the firm beat of Derrick’s heart under her ear, and his arms supporting her, there was nothing in Nathan’s eyes saying sexual intent. There was compassion, and a streak of stubbornness that she’d expect from him.

Could she do this? Talk about a forced move into the light. Letting Derrick see her naked and touch her scarred body—that was one thing. They’d shared enough time over the past couple months to make being with him seem normal. It was private, and usually she was so sexually turned on by the time she stripped that passion smoothed away any remaining nervousness that arose.

She still hadn’t managed to show her damaged skin in public. Not even a regular T-shirt. The thought of anyone other than Derrick seeing her made bile rise to the back of her throat. Imagining the potential taunts and questioning glances threatened her breathing. She had no guarantees people would be cruel, but it was no use.

She might be trapped in a cage of her own making, but she was trapped, nevertheless.

Anger rippled through her. She wanted to live. Fully. Wasn’t that her goal? And while she wouldn’t give up what she had with Derrick for the world, she still had a long way to go.

Melanie squeezed Derrick’s arm, thanking him for his silent support before facing Nathan straight on. “What are you thinking about?”

His eyes lit up. “Two parts. The first is for the magazine. They need a couple dozen pictures for the article, indoor and out. I’d take a mix of pictures—some at work, some at your home and some at the climbing wall. I’ll do a short interview, but the pictures are my main contribution. The second thing is a project I’ve got an idea for on the side—it’s a graphic presentation. Images telling the story. We can take pictures wherever and however you feel comfortable, but I can show you some samples of what I’ve got in mind. We can discuss that in more detail later.”

He wanted to take pictures of her showing her scars to the world. To show her living in spite of the accident that never should have happened. Oh Lord, this was going to kill her. “Do I get to see the pictures?”

Nathan responded immediately. “I’ll give you total control over what pictures I hand over to my magazine.”

The hair at the back of her neck stood upright. Derrick squeezed her fingers. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

It was too much to decide in an instant. She examined Nathan’s face. Years ago she’d wanted nothing more than to have his undivided attention. Now she dreaded it. Life was unfair in how it granted wishes.

His smile stroked her. In spite of its warmth, there was a nagging ache inside warning her this experience could be hell for more reasons than baring her scars.

“I need time to decide.”

Nathan’s hopeful expression faded, but he nodded. “I can understand that. I deliberately didn’t phone ahead of time—I thought this discussion would be better in person. But if you could let me know in the next couple of days, I’d appreciate it. I’m not trying to rush you, but I have deadlines to meet.”

He returned the conversation to Katy and what was happening with her and the rest of the family back in their hometown. Light, newsy information meant to put her at ease.

The coffee burned a hole in her stomach with every sip.

When they’d finally finished their drinks, Nathan plopped a light kiss on her cheek, then disappeared down the street, his camera bag slung over his shoulder.

She and Derrick walked in silence back to his apartment. His fingers twined with hers, strong, supportive. Her mind raced with images and discussions from the past, distant days as well as the more recent time she’d spent in Derrick’s presence.

At what point would she be able to let go of her burdens?

Derrick led her to the couch where he proceeded to cuddle her in his lap and rub the tension from her shoulders until she was able to let out a long slow breath. She twisted to face him. His forehead was creased with worry and she smoothed a finger between his brows.

“Hey, it’s not that a big a deal.”

“It is to you. Mel—I know you’re trying to be strong and move forward with your life, but that doesn’t mean you have to say yes to this offer.”

He was right. There was no one holding a gun to her head. There was no life-and-death decision that needed to be made this instant, like grabbing a safety rope as a hold gave out. But there was a time that waiting became the wrong response, and she was never going to reach her goal if she didn’t keep moving.

“I know I don’t have to, but what if I should? What if this is like Nate said? Something not only for my sake, but to help others.” She closed her eyes, trying to ignore how her stomach squirmed as she imagined baring herself. “I’m not the only one with scars, and I got mine in a fairly innocent way.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Melanie shrugged. “It was an accident, and there was no one to blame. You said it—a freak rope failure. I was climbing, which has intrinsic dangers. What about the people hurt in car accidents or house fires? They had no hand in their situations, but they’re still scarred and have to deal with it.”

He reached out to cup her face in his hands, his thumb tracing the thin line of the single scar on her cheek—the only visible cut on her face. “Sounds as if you’ve given this a lot of thought. You can’t have come up with all this since we left the coffee shop.”