by Hinze, Vicki
“But I do now?” She pulled back to look at him. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Yes, I am.” C.D. nodded. "You used to tell me that you were living your perfect life. But the truth is, Angel, your perfect life isn’t behind you, it’s ahead of you. You were wearing rose-colored glasses then, and you’ve ditched them. Now you get to choose your real perfect life.” He paused to look at her a second, then said, “Just do me one favor, okay?”
Only God knew what would come next. “What?”
“Don’t make any snap decisions,” he said. “Give yourself some time to figure out exactly what you want your real perfect life to be."
“I will.”
“That’s not the favor,” he said.
“What is?”
“Aim high.”
She looked up at him, seeing that he wanted so much good for her, as he always had. “I will,” she promised, then kissed his neck—the place her lips happened to land. “God, C.D., I'd be crazy without you."
"Finally, she admits it.” He smiled. “I've always told you that.”
She swatted him. “Stop.”
“I always listen to you. Finally, for once, you listen to me, and I’m supposed to stop? I don’t think so.”
Katie couldn’t help it, she chuckled. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Adore me.” He batted his eyelashes at her. “I need it bad. You know, I do.”
“I have to,” she said, putting a snide edge on her tone. “No one else can handle your goofy backside.”
“True. All true.”
He had been fabulous about spending a lot of time with her. How he was keeping the bar going and taking care of his other business interests, she had no idea. He didn't look overly tired. Actually, he looked energized.
Still, because she did adore him and he adored her, it was time she let him off the hook. "You can stop feeling guilty because you made it out and I got stuck. Seriously, C.D.”
That had to be why he was sticking so close to her. “I know you have a life and a business to run, and probably fifteen women waiting to hear from you.” He always had. Women flocked to C.D., and no one knew it better than Katie. He understood them. He liked them. He respected them. And they adored him for all of it and more. “You’ve got to be sick of playing nurse to me."
He released her and sat down in the chair, then leaned his cane against the bed. "I'm beyond feeling guilty. What happened, happened, and is now history. Can’t rewrite it. My businesses are low-maintenance and doing just fine. And the women—all fifteen of them—will wait.” He waggled his eyebrows. "I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing.”
“Seriously?” He’d never lied to her, but he had to be lying now.
“I swear it on my wings,” he said, lifting his right hand. “Don’t look so shocked—it offends me. I’ve always enjoyed your company, and you know it.” He stopped, turned somber, then took a different tact. “Wait a second. Are you discreetly saying you’re tired of my company? If so, just say the word and I’ll give you a little space."
“Me, discreet? Ms. Blunt? Not hardly,” she admitted the flaw. “I’d be a nutcase without you, C.D., and that’s humbling, I don’t mind telling you.” It was true. So true it scared her.
She needed to look at that. There was something squirrelly in it. Sam not being here with her hurt her pride. But the idea of C.D. not being here just plain hurt, and the pain would be tenfold worse. The pain would hurt… her heart.
Uneasy, she shifted to change positions. But wait. C.D. understood her better than anyone else alive. And he knew more about the real her than anyone else, too, so all of that made sense. Some, she supposed, would think she should have that kind of relationship with her husband, but too many couples she’d known didn’t for those opinions to matter. And she would feel vulnerable to C.D. but she knew him just as well as he knew her, so détente had become the norm between them a long time ago.
But because she knew him equally well, she also knew he was blowing smoke her way about letting go of the guilt. He was protecting her, and though she should call him on it, at the moment, her pride was too tattered to feel anything but grateful. "I thought you had better things to do. That’s all."
He propped his elbow on the chair arm, rested his chin in his upturned hand, and sent her level look. "You might be able to lie to Sam and get away with it, but don’t even try it with me, Angel. I think I’m offended that you did try it."
“I didn’t lie to you.” She said and meant it. "What are you talking about?"
"I know you, and I know that right now you feel more fragile and more vulnerable than you’ve ever felt in your life. So don't pretend you don't need me. You do.” He paused, then added, “You need me every bit as much as I need you."
Her heartbeat rocketed and every nerve in her body alerted and tingled. He needed her? She stared at him, perplexed and unsure exactly what was happening here. "I'm not sure what to say to that."
"It wasn't a question, Katie. It was a statement of fact."
Tense, she pushed her hair back from her face. "Define need."
"No." He didn't blink, didn't try to shun the baldness in his refusal.
"Why not?" This wasn't making any sense. But then why should it be any different from everything else? Nothing made sense anymore.
"Because it's not the right time. When it is the right time, I’ll be delighted to define need." He slid her a totally male look, heavy-lidded and laced with appreciation. “If you’re agreeable, I'll even provide physical evidence—"
"C.D. Quade! I can’t believe you're flirting with me right now.” She propped her hands on her hips. “What? Is this some psychobabble bull to reassure me that I’m loveable? Desirable? Are you playing games with me, C.D.?” She held up a staying hand. “Wait, let me just spin this out. Her husband tears her up and dumps her. C.D. mounts his white horse and rides in like some chivalrous knight, then sacrifices himself to build her esteem back up and let her know she’s still got sex appeal. Sound about right?”
“Honey, you’re thinking way too deep.” He propped his hand on his chin and grinned at her. “Though facts are facts, and you are loveable and undeniably sexy.”
She was? Seriously? Her stomach fluttered. Good grief. “Oh, shut up, C.D.”
“Okay.” He let out an exaggerated sigh he meant for her to notice. “But one thought to hold while you’re fixated on figuring me out. Men are victims of their bodies, and I’m no exception. We think of sex every seven seconds. And when we see a beautiful woman, we react. It’s got nothing to do with esteem or sacrifice or building anything. It’s physical.”
“C.D.” She warned him. “You’re crossing the line—and not shocking me, okay? That tactic never worked before, and it doesn’t work now.”
“Don’t get ticked at me—I’m not trying to shock you.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s in the genes, Katie.”
She rolled her gaze heavenward. “Victim, my left foot.”
His smile broadened, lit up his eyes and crinkled the skin beneath them.
Totally charming.
A light rap sounded on the door.
Dr. Muldoon stuck in his head. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Only C.D. being… well, C.D.” Katie smiled.
Muldoon didn't know what to do with that so he ignored it. "Katie, America wants to welcome you home. Are you up for a press conference? I've also been asked to tell you that you have several book and film offers waiting, and a couple agents offering to represent you with them.”
“Why?”
“People want to hear your story.” He held up a fingertip. “If you're not ready to mess with any of this, just say so. I'll hold them all off as long as you like."
Katie stared at C.D., thought about it for a long moment, and then decided. "Hold them off forever, then,” she said. “I'm not interested in any of it."
Muldoon cast her a blank look. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not
interested in any of it," she repeated. "The press conference or the offers. I’m not interested in any of it.”
“Why not?” he asked, clearly surprised. “There’s a lot to consider, Katie, and a great deal of money on the line.”
While she wasn’t eager to say it out loud, she’d be nagged on this until she did, so she might as well do it, and have it done. “America loves fairytales, Dr. Muldoon. In my story, there is no Cinderella. There is no Prince Charming. And there certainly is no happy ending. I'm assuming Sam told you that he is divorcing me." She waited for his nod. When it came, she continued. "Who wants to hear a story where a woman returns home only to discover home isn’t there anymore? Her husband’s remarried, her children have another mother, so she has no family, no home, no career—nothing?" She let out a little groan. "As homecoming's go, mine falls pretty short of the joyful mark. See what I mean?"
“I wish I didn’t, Katie.” Dr. Muldoon's face flushed. "I'm so sorry."
She'd made him uncomfortable. He'd been nothing but kind, and she'd made him uncomfortable. "No, I'm sorry. I haven't yet readjusted to social subtleties and I was far too blunt.” She tried a smile, but it was weak at best. “It's difficult to remember. I’m going to have to work at it."
“I like blunt,” C.D. said. “There’s nothing wrong with blunt.”
“C.D.’s right about that, though I do understand what you mean, Katie. It’s not a problem for now, but the media is going to insist on speaking to you at some time. If not now and here, then they’ll dog you to death later.”
“No one is going to dog me to death, Dr. Muldoon.” She’d been dogged to her limit and then some in the prison camp. Those days were over. “I promise you that.”
“Okay.” He didn’t argue. “Would you rather talk to them now, or after you leave the hospital?"
"I'd rather not talk to them at all." Especially considering her challenge on discerning what happened from her nightmares. Katie sighed. No way was she admitting that, though. She’d be stuck in some institution under some stupid mental health study for the rest of her days. "But if I must talk to them to get them off my back, then later is better."
“Very well. I’ll handle it, then.” He sounded confident but something in his tone warned her the press wouldn’t be put off easily.
“Has the media been camped out here?”
He didn’t answer.
“Yes,” C.D. said. “Every entrance. The base commander authorized it under pressure and, I suspect for PR purposes, in case you agreed to talk to them or Drs. Muldoon and Firestone cut you loose.”
“I’m sorry,” she said to Muldoon. “I guess they’ve been driving you and your staff nuts.”
“We’re dealing with it, Katie. It’s nothing for you to worry about. You have enough…”
C.D. stepped in. “Ashley’s taken her phone off the hook at home. They found out she’d been shopping for you, and they’ve been all over her.”
Katie looked at C.D. “She didn’t mention a word to me.”
He lifted a hand toward Dr. Muldoon. “As he said, you’ve got enough on your plate.”
She had been avoiding asking Dr. Muldoon about her leaving the hospital, though it hadn’t been far from her mind since Ashley had first mentioned it. Now that she knew the media was camping out at the hospital and driving Ashley to disconnect her phone at home, it wasn’t practical to ignore the inevitable any longer. "It's time for me to leave."
"There's no rush, Katie. We can deal with this. We want to deal with it to give you what you need." Dr. Muldoon watched her carefully. "I don’t want you leaving here until we’re sure you’re ready. Frankly, Dr. Firestone would feel better if you were talking about your time in captivity."
He really was a good man. "I’m not going to talk about that, and I’ve already explained why.”
She couldn’t risk it for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was Molly and Jake. Your mother is dead. Oops, she’s alive. Oops, she’s alive, but messed up in the head. She can’t tell what’s real and what’s imagined.
No way. It was the stress of it all, and the truth would become clear to her with time. And, by gum, she was going to have that time and not have to fight being tagged as a mental case for the rest of her life.
“As for being ready,” she went on. “I honestly don't think I can get ready.” Who could prepare for something like this? “I think I'm going to have to just dive in and deal with whatever comes."
Fingering the stethoscope dangling around his neck, he thought about all she’d said. “Did Sam talk to you today?”
“Oh, yeah.” She looked up at him. “He’s divorcing me and staying with Blair,” she said without emotion. “It’s okay. I’m not in love with him. I thought I was, but I’m not. I never have been.”
His eyes widened in shock. He opened his mouth, but she lifted a hand to stay him. “I know. It surprised me, too. But there it was, staring me in the face.”
“You’re okay with it, then?” he asked.
“I will be, once the shock wears off.” She nodded, not mentioning her stinging pride. “Blair and I have an agreement on the kids. It’ll all work out.”
He looked taken back, but recovered quickly. “Quite a revealing time for you, then.”
“Yes, it has been,” Katie agreed. “Not without pain, but endurable.”
He nodded. “Sam aside, you’ve been pretty insulated here, Katie. Are you sure you’re ready to leave?”
Hadn’t he heard her? Who could be ready? Ever? “Some things you just have to do and find your way as you go. Sign the papers, Dr. Muldoon. I’m leaving either way.”
“All right.” He stepped to the wall. "Your pay is settled. They opened an account for you at the credit union and direct deposited it for you.”
She nodded. “A lady from social services brought me the cards to sign, but I didn’t know the money was in. That’s terrific news.” Katie would pay back Ashley right away, hopefully before her credit card bill had come in. “I'm not a pauper anymore." Happy birthday to me.
Dr. Muldoon smiled. "You’ve also officially been granted thirty days’ leave of absence to decide whether or not you want to return to active duty."
"I'm not returning to active duty. I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but it won't be that."
"I can't say I blame you, but give it thirty days before you make a formal decision. Consider it a well-earned paid vacation." He paused. "This is a difficult question to ask.” His face flushed. “Where will you go?"
That, she’d thought about a great deal. So while it was hard for him to ask, because it reminded her she had come for a reunion with her family and was leaving alone, it wasn’t a difficult question to answer. "First to see my parents. I'll stay there a few days, and then I’ll decide what to do. I'll have to live here in Willow Creek, of course, because the children are here. I won't be far away from my kids again."
C.D. intervened. "If you're interested, I have a vacant cottage. On the off chance that you broke out of here, I had it cleaned. It's ready and waiting when you are."
Katie should have known he would be looking out for her, thinking ahead. She’d been worried about where to go, but once again C.D. had come through for her—just as he always had in the old days. “Awesome.” He was. He truly was.
Dr. Muldoon smiled. “I take it this is settled, then?"
"Absolutely." Katie sent C.D. a grateful smile. "I really would be lost without you—temporarily homeless, too."
"When you're ready, I'll sign you out,” Muldoon said. “But only under the provision that when you return from visiting your parents, you come in daily for me to do a quick check on you.”
“I don’t need that. I’m fine.”
“They’re not for you,” he confessed. “They’re for me. I respect your right not to discuss what happened to you during captivity, but I need reassurance that you're okay."
She appreciated his concern, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it. "For how long?"
He wouldn’t sign her out without her agreement. Accept the inevitable. "Okay, then. Sign me out." She had a home to go to now, and glanced at C.D. "I was wrong, Dr. Muldoon.”
“About what?”
She smiled. “It appears there's a Prince Charming around after all."
Chapter Seven
The cottage was lovely. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room and bath, all decorated in soft, soothing shades of green and blue. But the best feature was outside the back door: a large porch and a small garden. Katie turned back to C.D. and smiled. “It’s perfect.”
He leaned against the porch railing. “I’m glad you like it. I bought the essentials, but I thought you’d like to decorate yourself.”
She nodded. “Feed that nesting urge, eh?”
“Exactly.” He hitched a hip on the railing. “You women don’t have the corner on that. We men need roots, too.”
“So we nest and you root. Got it.” She bit back a smile. “Are you going to show me your bar?”
“Sure.” He looked a little surprised. “If you’re interested in seeing it.”
She nudged their shoulders. “I’m interested in everything that has to do with you, C.D.”
He seemed pleasantly surprised. “You used to be. But I didn’t know if you would still feel that way.” He made the little noise he’d always made when he was moved and embarrassed by it—a sweet sound that teased the fringes of a grunt, groan and sigh. “Why is that?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why are you interested?”
“Because I adore you,” she said plainly. “I’ve always adored you.”
“I’ve always adored you, too.” He frowned, dragged a fingertip down a bit of white column that ran roof to porch floor. “Exactly what kind of adoration is this?”