"This is what we've found," the supervisor from the security company, Justin, turned his clipboard around so Madelyn and Harry could see his checklist. Their boots crunched in the snow as they huddled together in front of the house. "The subcontractor that we used to apply the reflective coating to the windows appears to have done the job correctly. However, there are several windows that have an area where the coating is so thin that the privacy quality is practically non-existent."

Madelyn felt the weight of Harry's arm move over her shoulders and was grateful for the reassuring pressure as he pulled her near. She had known there was reason for concern when Harry had been able to see through the front window; she had not anticipated the extent of the breach in her security. "How many windows, which ones are compromised?" she asked.

"Well, uh, I am really sorry to tell you that most of the rooms on the main floor have at least one window that is sub-par." Justin fiddled with the cap on his head and kicked the heel of his boot into the crusty snow. "Of course, you opted not to have the upper floor windows treated as it interferes slightly with the natural light."

"Which windows, exactly?" Harry growled.

Justin consulted the clipboard again. "Well, you found the problem spot in the living room. There is a small space in each of the guest rooms and the kitchen, as well as two in the walk-in closet." At this Madelyn began to massage her temple where a headache was forming. "Most concerning is the master bedroom. Most of the windows in the master are compromised."

"Fucking hell," Harry muttered under his breath. "How did this happen?"

"Honestly? I do not know. We've subbed to this other company dozens of times. They are solid, but the error has to have happened at the time of application. It's too precise, almost as if it were intentional. Needless to say, we will have each of the weak areas covered for the time being and Monday we will get the sub back out here to investigate and remedy the problem. I just want you to know how sorry we are about this!" Justin yanked his cap off and ran a hand over his cropped hair.

"What is the name of the company that subcontracted the windows?" Harry could feel the tension rolling and radiating off of her frame as he pulled her closer. It was as if it were an aura surrounding her.

"It was the residential and commercial remodel and upgrade unit that operates under Jackson Unlimited."

Harry barely had time to react as Madelyn's knees buckled and she began to slide downward. He kneeled in front of her, the denim of their jeans absorbing the moisture in the snow that the sun had begun to soften. She didn't see him. Her focus was somewhere dark.

"Hey, come back." Harry held her face in his hands, his long fingers threading through the hair above her ears. "What just happened? Talk to me," he insisted as he gently shook her.

"He's been here, watching all along. I've lived here thinking I was safe and protected the entire time. But I wasn't." Tears trickled painfully down her cheeks.

"You think Jack is responsible for the problem with the privacy coating on the windows?"

"I know he is, Harry. He is Jackson Unlimited; he owns the company."

***

The tea on the coffee table in front of her was growing cold, but she couldn't muster any concern. Harry had settled her in with a blanket on the couch while he walked the security contractor out to his truck. If it weren't three in the afternoon, she would have crawled into bed and tried to forget this day ever happened. The only positive thing to come out of all of this mess was Harry. He had stood by her through it all. He seemed to know when to speak up and understand when it was time to back off.

Filing the police report had been straightforward, but not painless. She answered invasive questions about her relationships with both men. Did Harry and Jack know each other; what was the current status of her romantic connection to each of them; had she actually felt threatened; did she want to press charges for intimidation or whatever else they could drum up? Harry had been dragged in more deeply when the police requested that he explain his part in the physical altercation. Why did he hit her ex-husband; was he jealous; had he been provoked; had he felt that his personal safety was threatened; did he feel that she was at risk at the moment? The police were contacting the restaurant for witness accounts and footage from their security cameras. Given that Harry had come forward and Jack had not, the police seemed inclined to believe he had acted in defense of another.

In the end, it was just as Madelyn predicted; there was nothing that the police could do currently. Monday morning they would fax a copy of their report to her attorney so that he was aware of the situation. If anything else transpired, well, at least they had begun creating a paper trail.

All that could be done, was being done.

Madelyn refused to allow the security company to contact the subcontractor and hold them responsible for the window repairs. There was not a chance in hell that she would trust an outfit that was under Jack's corporate umbrella. His real estate development enterprise was far-reaching and she planned to avoid it at all costs. She didn't care one whit that she would have to pay for a different company to come and make the corrections. She also decided that the motion sensor floodlights, security doors, and deadbolts were not going to be enough any longer. After receiving encouragement from Harry, she opted to have an alarm system installed. It would monitor doors and windows; it would have a panic button in the living room, her studio and each bedroom, and be connected with the security company's 24-hour switchboard. Monday afternoon the alarm system would be installed and a different sub-contractor would remedy the window situation.

Heavily stomping boots and the twist of the doorknob, alerted Madelyn that her moment of stewing quietly was ending. Harry blustered through the door, toeing off his boots and removing his jacket. He padded over to where she was curled up on the couch. Rather than sitting down, he eyed the painting above her with increased curiosity.

"I admired this painting when I came up that first night. You spoke of your studio last night and referenced having it included when the alarm goes in. Madelyn, did you paint this?" His gaze lingered on the bold brush strokes in the thick, rich oils before he dropped his clear green eyes to hers.

"I did. The second floor was once bedrooms, but I had them converted into a large studio. I didn't have the windows up there treated because it dampens the light slightly and since I'm almost never up there at night, it wasn't worth giving up the natural light quality."

"Will you show me?" Harry held his hand out, expecting her to take it and give him a tour of her art space. Instead, she hesitated, actually pulling the blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

"I've never actually had anyone else up there, not since the construction was completed. It... it's kind of private." She looked down to where her fingers were worrying the corner of the cover, before meeting his eyes again.

Harry sat down next to her on the couch. He turned his body so that he faced her, his left leg was tucked in front of him and his right foot was on the floor. He tugged her hand into his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"It's okay, I'm not pushing. This painting is beautiful, though." He nodded his head toward the framed canvas. "When you're ready, I really would like to see where you paint. If this work is any indicator of your ability, then I look forward to seeing more and getting to know that part of you."

Why wasn't he pushing? Jack couldn't stand secrets, which had only served to make her more protective of the few things she had kept from him. He was suspicious by nature. That fact had wracked her nerves. Harry wasn't like Jack though. He was offering her privacy at the same time that he was hovering about, ensuring her safety, making his presence undoubtable.

"You really want to see it? I'm not a professional or anything; I only paint for fun, for myself, because it makes me happy."

He raised her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her skin. "Yes, I really do, but only if you want to share it with me."

"I think I do, yeah." She extracted herself from the nest she had created on the couch and stood, pulling at Harry's hand. "Come on."

He followed as she wound through the living room and into the rear hallway. Opening a door he had previously assumed was a closet, she revealed a staircase. Looking at him over her shoulder as she mounted the first step, she smiled shyly, then led him upwards.

Harry was dumbfounded as he crested the stairway. The room was flooded with afternoon sunlight. The temperature was higher than downstairs. Tables held jars and pots and tubes of color, brushes of every imaginable variation, rainbow-smeared rags, and small tools that he couldn't identify. There were a couple of easels set up, and canvases were stacked about, leaning against walls. The smells were different up here. Not undesirable, just different. He spotted the futon that was pulled out to a sleeping position and littered with blankets and pillows.

"You can look around if you want," her voice was soft, a little hesitant.

Harry released her hand as he began to walk about. He fiddled with some of the brushes and picked up paints to examine the colors. He noted that some were watercolors while others were oils or oils that were water-soluble or acrylic. He had thought artists chose oil or watercolors. He hadn't realized that not everyone limited themselves to one or the other, or had a third option altogether. Walking to a stack of paintings leaning against a wall, he shot Madelyn a quizzical look over his shoulder.

"I chose to bring you up here. Nothing is off limits now. You can look at anything you like."

Harry squatted down on his haunches and began to sort through the canvases, his eyes landing on one in particular. The colors were intense, primarily jewel tones, the strokes of the brush had left swirls where the paint was thickest. He was looking at the night sky, but it was somewhat abstract. What he saw, were mountains that peaked into red stars and a gold moon shadow, the dark sapphire blue of the sky itself rolled with barely visible wisps of deep green. His throat constricted at the beauty.

"This is who you are. This is what is inside of you, isn't it?" He wasn't looking at her, standing several feet away.

"Yes," she spoke lowly. "It isn't much, but this is me when no one else is looking." She walked to where he was still hunched down, and he stood.

Wrapping one arm around her, the painting still in his other hand, he bent to nuzzle her head and brush his lips over her forehead.

"Well, I'm looking now, and I see you. I appreciate everything that I see." Laying her work aside, he drew her in so that their chests were flush and he could feel the press of her breasts against him. She tipped her face up and he lowered his mouth to hers, the tip of his tongue swiping over her lower lip.

"Will you stay with me for the rest of the weekend?" Perhaps it was a bit forward of her to ask, but they had been nothing if not forward with one another, so why stop now.

"Yes. I have to work a shift tomorrow since I took last night off to be with you." He nipped her upper lip. When she parted her lips, he formed his mouth over hers and slipped his tongue in. The kiss was slow and heated. "Come with me, keep me company while I work the bar. If you get bored, you can go up to my apartment." His breathing was speeding up as he resumed the kiss.

"Okay. I'll go with you." Her hand was in his curls now, clutching, then sliding their softness through her fingers. She inhaled as his hand came up under her shirt to cup her breast and he teased her nipple beneath her unlined bra. He nudged his thigh between hers, rubbing at her suggestively. 

"How sturdy is that futon?"

***

Author's Note:
Thanks for all of your continued support! I love those comments and votes. Come play on Twitter as well, @dirtyyarn