It fell apart junior year when she was loaded up to the gills with Advanced Placement classes, studying for college entrance exams, and scheming on which extracurricular activities would help her secure a place at an Ivy League university.
Connor idly stroked his fingers through Nadine’s hair and breathed out a long sigh. How could it be his heart was breaking, yet again, when this time, he was the one who would do the breaking up?
“What’s wrong?” Nadine shifted in his arms, her fingers tapping his arm. “Are you thinking about her?”
“Yes, how did you know?” He swallowed hard, although a warmth spread inside his chest at how attuned she was to him. “It’s like watching all your dreams go up in ashes, and then finding out you’d built this entire fantasy in your mind because you haven’t been paying attention.”
“Maybe it hurt to pay attention, so you put blinders on.” She explored the back of his hands, painting her fingers around and over his knuckles, tracing his veins and hugging his thick fingers between her slender ones.
“Why am I only seeing it now? She had so little regard for me and this weekend I planned—a spring getaway. She agreed to it and sounded happy about it, then I find she never intended to meet me here.”
“She had a greater purpose in mind.”
“She could have just spoken to me, if she wasn’t sure whether I wanted to go through with the surrogacy.”
“Her kind doesn’t speak. She plots and she acts. She speaks only to convince you to go her way. She’s very good at that.”
Connor couldn’t tell from Nadine’s monotone voice whether she admired that about her sister or feared her.
“Why are you really here?” He tipped her chin and tilted her face toward his. “Was it hard for her to persuade you?”
“No, Connor, it wasn’t. To be truthful, once she gave me the opening, I took it.” Her greenish brown eyes sparkled with the reflection of the flames in the fireplace. “I want to feel the shape of our hearts, the words in our hands, the form between our thoughts. I want to know you: taste, discover and immerse deep into this living organism where our hearts and minds dwell. I touch it when I draw a brush across the canvas. I hear it when I sculpt a shape with my palette knife. I breathe it when words grow in my mind and music runs through my fingers. I want to be with you, forming and dissolving, whether for a minute or forever. I want to know the rushing of your blood, the comfort of your breath, and the drink of your kiss. I want to know if this magical thing between us is real. Love.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The L-word. There, she’d done it and said it out loud. But with Connor, she found it easy to speak her mind. He didn’t flinch. Instead, a grin spread across his face, and he cupped her cheek in his broad hand.
“I feel it, too. This is beyond my control. Outside of my skin, but at the same time deep within. I don’t know where I begin and where you end. Is this real?” His voice was thick, a husky burr which drew a web of sparkly tingles over her skin.
“I don’t know.” She barely breathed, afraid to destroy the moment as she cuddled closer to him.
Greyheart roused from his lap and butted his head against Nadine’s hand, purring for a caress.
“Think he’s telling you something?” Connor asked as he stroked the kitty’s chin. “Like duh, of course this is real.”
“Maybe he’s an old, old soul and he knows more than we think.” Nadine peered into the little gray cat’s grayish brown eyes. “You are a little gray heart, aren’t you? What do you think?”
“By the way, why is his last name Hart, like mine?”
It took a split second before she figured out his question. “Actually, he’s Greyheart, all one word, kind of like Braveheart. But if you want him to be Grey … Hart … he won’t mind.”
“You won’t mind me adopting you someday?” he spoke to the kitty. “I think we’ll stick to Greyheart like Braveheart and call you Grey for short.”
The kitten mewed his approval and yawned.
“He’s bored with our idle talk and philosophizing,” Nadine said, petting the kitten’s soft fur.
Connor brushed his mouth over Nadine’s ear, kissing her lightly. “I agree. If it’s real, it will be revealed.”
She nodded, knowing he was right. “We stay in the present. We won’t remember the past, and the future doesn’t exist. It’s perfect right now. The fire, the puppy at our feet, the cabin enclosed in the fog, your hand on mine, my face against your heart, our cozy cocoon here with our little kitten.”
“Mmmm …” he moaned, pulling her closer and enveloping her within his arms. Gently, he pecked small kisses over the side of her head, staying well away from her lips, but so close to her ear, barely brushing the shell, so close, but so far that she both shivered and blossomed with an indescribable sense of well-being—like her heart was encompassing the entire world, a gigantic swell of energy filled with peace and love.
How long they stayed like that, connected yet apart, she didn’t know. She released all thought and blended with him. Maybe she dozed, or maybe she meditated. Maybe she went into a dream state, but when the last embers of fire had darkened, Connor roused her. “You might be more comfortable on the bed.”
She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I’ll stay here. You take the bed.”
“Not going to argue with you, young lady.” Connor wedged his arm under her legs and picked her up, waking the puppy. “I need to take Cinder out before turning in. I’ll put out a box with some wood shavings for Greyheart in the kitchen, but you, you’re going to bed.”
The last thing Nadine wanted to do was ruin the moment with thinking, debating, or logic, so she hummed and tucked herself into his arms, allowing him to pull back the quilt on the four poster bed. He removed her boots and massaged her feet, and then tucked her into the bed.
Leaning over her, he kissed her cheek. “See you in the morning.”
“You too,” she muttered before her eyelids got heavy and the only image etched indelibly in her mind was that of Connor kissing her goodnight, every night, always.
Faint rays of sunlight speared through the lacy curtains the next morning. Connor woke with the insistent licking of the puppy, whining to go out.
He had a crick in his neck, and he’d forgotten how saggy the sofa bed was. Besides, when his sisters were here, they got the sofa bed and he and his brothers had the heart pine wooden floor.
It took him a moment before the events and presence of Nadine came crashing through his mind. His heartbeat accelerated and he sat up straight. She was here in place of Elaine. She’d crashed Elaine’s Mercedes and broadsided his truck. He had to let Elaine know and call the insurance company. He had a million things he’d planned to do with Elaine, visiting a Gold Country winery, hiking along the swollen streams, and letting her try her hand at fishing.
Why had Elaine played this trick on him? Was she truly too busy, or did she hold him in such low regard that it would never cross her mind that Nadine could be interested in him?
More like she trusted him completely, which made him feel like a guilty traitor. Of course she should trust him. He was her fiancé and Nadine was her sister—which meant Connor had just hit a new low point in terms of hypocrisy and pretending he was an honorable man.
He heaved a long, tired sigh as he opened the front door and let Cinder scamper out. A streak of gray dashed from the kitchen, and the kitten slid out like a puff of smoke.
“Connor? Are you up?” Nadine’s voice came from the bedroom. “I fell asleep in my clothes and need my overnighter. It’s in the car.”
“I’ll get it.” He stepped out to the Mercedes Benz and got her overnighter. The bumper cover was hanging halfway off and the damage didn’t look too bad behind it.
Unfortunately, Nadine had done a number on his truck, crushing three panels, the front door, the side door, and the frame underneath the door. He stooped down and ran his hand over the dented metal, shaking his head.
Her shadow
fell on him, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. What’s the plan for today? Should we contact Elaine?”
“Do you have your phone?” He pushed himself up to stand. “We should take pictures from all angles, then I’ll drive you into town where they have a signal.”
“You don’t have your phone?”
Connor twisted his mouth and scratched the back of his neck. “Silly me. I thought this was going to be a romantic weekend without electronic devices. Just me, my dog, and my woman in my rugged backcountry cabin.”
She stared at him, her hair with a brownish glow in the slanted morning sun. Understanding dawned on her face and she nodded slowly. “You really looked forward to this trip.”
He couldn’t lie to her, despite whatever magic had sparked between them the night before, where she’d talked of love and he’d allowed himself to imagine a world where she would rein in his heart.
“I wanted to recapture what we had when we were teens,” he explained. “She wasn’t always so serious. Did you know she went through a phase where she wanted to be a homesteader? She was always reading the Farmer’s Almanac and fantasizing about living off the land.”
Nadine’s eyebrows jumped sky high. “I didn’t know anything about her growing up. My father kept us apart and we weren’t exactly invited to her birthday parties or anything.”
“Well, let’s not talk about her. I probably owe you a couple hundred dollars if you count how many times I think about her.”
“I notice you specifically didn’t mention her name, so I think you’re in the clear. I owe you thousands of dollars for all this damage.” Nadine surveyed the condition of the two vehicles.
“Don’t worry too much.” He couldn’t help taking her hand. It felt so natural, and yet, so wrong. “The insurance will pay.”
“Let me get my phone and take the pictures then.”
“Later, before we go into town.” He walked with her into the cabin and put the overnighter in the bedroom. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did, but I shouldn’t have put you out of your bed.” She let go of his hand and lowered her face. “I also had a good time last night. You’re a wonderful host, but after we get the insurance squared away and some way to tie the bumper to the car, I really should be getting back.”
She was spooked again, and he couldn’t blame her. She’d talked about love, maybe in a hypothetical sense, but at the same time, whatever they’d both felt last night in front of the fire was real—or had the potential to be.
Unfortunately, his first thoughts this morning were about the damage to his truck and how disappointed he was that Elaine hadn’t shown up. No woman in her right mind would want to be a substitute.
“Yeah, I guess you should be getting back. I’ll cook up some breakfast, and after we shower, we hit the town and report the damages.”
He turned without looking at her and plodded to the kitchen. Last night, he’d been so sure he wanted to break up with Elaine, but in the light of the day, it felt like a fool’s errand. What were the chances Elaine would let him go? She’d already announced the engagement on social media and was busy polling her friends on setting a wedding date. If he broke up with her, she’d lose face and be the laughing stock of her colleagues. Besides, she’d gone through premature menopause and probably feared that men who didn’t know would reject her once they found out about her condition.
He couldn’t hurt her after he’d proposed to her, on bended knee with the largest diamond he could afford.
Connor slapped his palm to his forehead. Whatever fairy dust that happened between him and Nadine could never be. Elaine loved him, and he supposedly loved Elaine.
As for Nadine … His heart crumbled like a plaster statue fallen in a garden of neglect. He’d have to give up the fantasy. It wasn’t as if one love were better than another, or that everyone’s lives could be like a Nicholas Sparks movie—or maybe that was the point. Loving someone so deeply involved great sacrifice and pain—and nine times out of ten, it ended tragically, or at most bittersweet and gray.
“Meow, meow.” A tiny voice begged him to rise out of the slough of despondency he was mired in.
He swept the kitty into his large hand and gave him a cuddle. His gray brown eyes were clear like a reflecting pond, large and discerning.
“Wonder why she named you Greyheart?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
If Connor was bothered with her presence beside him in his battered truck, he didn’t show it. He also didn’t speak, and since the passenger door was busted, Nadine had had to slip in through the driver’s side and slide across the long bench seat.
They’d left the Mercedes and the animals behind, since the only goal was to get to a telephone or within vicinity of a cellular tower so she could contact her sister and text the pictures of the damage to the insurance company.
Not speaking was fine with Nadine. Speaking had gotten her into trouble and revealed to Connor exactly what kind of woman she was—someone who fell in love with her sister’s fiancé—someone who couldn’t be trusted.
Nadine watched the landscape roll by as the truck wound around knobby hills patched by rocky walls and slopes of smoke-tinged trees and silvery green pines. Silvery rays of sunlight scattered through age worn branches knotty and crooked, some covered with veils of gray-green Spanish moss, and others sporting a shower of delicate white pear blossoms.
When she returned to her studio, she’d paint this scene juxtaposed with twisted shards of metal, the collision of two hearts at the wrong place and wrong time.
The truck rolled into a town which was little more than a row of ancient brick buildings with cars diagonally parked along the street and a center square consisting of a flag pole and a statue.
“Store’s over there,” Connor broke the silence, pulling into a parking space. “I think they have a pay phone.”
Nadine checked her phone. “I can get a signal. Two bars, not great, but it’ll do. Here goes, I suppose.”
She inhaled to steady herself, not daring to look at Connor. Elaine’s phone rang four times before going to voicemail. “Hey, Elaine, it’s Nadine. I backed into Connor’s truck last night with your car. I’ll pay for everything, but we’re going to call your insurance company. I’m not sure everything’s going according to your plan. I’m really sorry. Call me.”
“No answer? Do you think she’s operating on someone?” Connor spoke straight over his steering wheel.
“Maybe. Let me check my text messages.” Nadine looked through her messages. There was a three way speculation on how plausible it would be for their father to believe that loyal Connor would cheat on Elaine with both Michael and Elaine deciding it was a stretch—that he wouldn’t believe it until the pregnancy became obvious.
Michael worried that Nadine could possibly seduce Connor, but Elaine pooh-poohed the idea, saying Connor and Nadine had nothing in common, and that Connor didn’t like weak women or damsels in distress.
Nadine felt like popping into the conversation to let them know she was still in the three-way text, but then, likely they didn’t care if she knew what they thought about her. It was like this her entire life. She was always careful not to hurt their feelings, to consider ways not to offend them, but they felt free to disregard her feelings because they resented her for being the “love child.”
“Anything interesting?” Connor asked. “You look upset.”
Nadine tilted the phone screen away from him. “It’s nothing. Just some chatter between Elaine and Michael.”
“Nothing about me?”
“Nothing important. They’re wondering how our visit is going.”
“She doesn’t answer the telephone, but she’s texting?” Connor grumbled. “Let me borrow your phone and text her.”
“No, you can’t.” Nadine slid her phone into her purse.
“I can’t?” Connor gave her a side-eyed glare. “Are you pissed at me for giving you the cold shoulder this morning?”
; Nadine’s jaw dropped and she slapped the bench seat between them. “You’re purposely trying to make me hate you? I don’t see how you can do this. Turn on and turn off like a light bulb. Bing. Last night, you’re my friend and today, you’re the enemy.”
“I’m not the enemy. You’re the one who won’t even let me text my girlfriend.” He opened the door to the truck. “I’ll go use the payphone. You might as well text all the pictures of the damage to your sister and let her deal with it. Because you’re at fault, her insurance has to pay for my truck, too.”
He slammed the door and stalked off to the general store, lumbering like an angry bear.
Icicles stabbed her insides, and her heart froze as she blinked back tears. It was what she deserved. No wonder Elaine had set her up to play the slut. She knew Connor would turn against her. His loyalty and honor were too strong, and even though he’d been tempted, he’d regretted every kiss and touch he’d given her.
Numbly, she texted all the images to Elaine, telling her about the fog.
I’ll try coming back today, if we can figure out what to do with the bumper, she texted. Connor hates me, so this trip might have backfired on your plan to spread a rumor that he got me pregnant naturally.
Not expecting an answer, she tucked her phone into her purse and put her hands over her eyes. She couldn’t wait to get away from the entire scene. Maybe she should leave with her mother. Now that Connor hated her, he wouldn’t introduce her to his sister either, so there was little chance of a modeling career. He didn’t want her to be the surrogate, and she’d have to return the money to Elaine. This entire Aggravate Dad project had turned into a humungous disaster. And it was all her fault for suggesting it.
Spring Fling Kitty: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 3) Page 12