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Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3)

Page 17

by Tracy Krimmer


  “What do you need, Kellan?” How did he find me here? Our conversation said everything. We don’t need to drag this along any further. I can’t move on if he’s constantly in my face, which I suppose means I should also delete all my DVR recordings of his forecasts.

  I’m not sure if he’s coming or going to work … it’s not Thursday, so he must be going. His fancy shoes don’t belong in a bowling alley. Neither does his suit. As if reading my mind, he takes off his jacket and swings it over his arm. “It’s hot in here.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I have, actually, and it’s steamier since he waltzed in. I’m ignoring the perspiration growing on my face, pretending the beads of sweat on my forehead don’t exist. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry I ran out on you the other day.”

  I shrug. “I’m not offended. We both had things to do.” I’m playing this off as best I can. His brooding eyes are locked on mine and we’re in the middle of an uncomfortable stare down. The first person who looks away or blinks wins. I don’t have anything to say to him. “Will Ned be back soon? He still has to fix this so I can keep bowling.”

  “What are we doing here, Kate?”

  “What do you mean? I’m bowling. Or trying to. Once these pins reset and I get my dad’s ball back, I plan to continue bowling.” I don’t want to be back here with him. Him in my presence breaks my heart, suffocates me. “I’ll go see what he’s doing.”

  “Wait!” He grabs my arm as I try to walk by. I glance down at his hand and he releases. “Sorry. Obviously there’s something going on between us. I know you feel it, too.”

  “I don’t feel anything. You’re with Macy. Even if I did feel something, that doesn’t matter as long as you’re with her. You guys needed a fill in, and I served my duty.” Who does he think he is, and what does he think he is doing? How can he even suggest something like a connection between us while he’s with … her.

  “You’re more than a fill in. I …”

  “You what?” I don’t know what I want him to say here. Maybe that he’s hopelessly in love with me and needs to be with me. Or maybe that I’m a great friend or that we were a great team and he misses that. Or perhaps he just needs to shut his mouth and walk away.

  He pushes his lips together and his cheeks glisten from the heat. I try to step back as he steps forward into me, but I can’t. My body doesn’t want to move. “I miss you when you’re not around.”

  I close my eyes and open them again. He’s tossed his jacket aside and those eyes of his won’t leave mine. They’re soft, pleading, and calling me to him. “I need to get out of here.” I’m choking on my emotions, caught between what’s right and wrong and what I want and what I can’t have. I can’t do this. Not right now.

  I wait for him to move out of my way. Now I am so hot I’m sweating under my shirt. Ned can fix this without me back here. Kellan won’t budge, though. My feet are glued to the floor as he approaches me. What’s about to happen? My breath is quickening and everything sounds so far away. The only thing I can hear is my heart pounding as he wraps his arm around my waist and leans in, putting his lips on mine. He’s pressing hard and I can’t breathe, but I don’t want to. I don’t care. I’ll die like this. This kiss is all I’ve dreamed about for the past five months. My knees weaken and he catches me before I fall. Then as fast as he grabbed me, he pushes me away.

  “I’m sorry. I had to do that. I had to. Please, forgive me. It was a mistake.” He runs out the door before I can even process what happened.

  And I know I’ve fallen.

  Chapter

  Thirty

  When my boss mentioned the library event and handed me the flier, I’ll admit to my skepticism. People really want to view pages colored by adults? The pastime is taking the world by storm, but to devote an entire event to it? The last time I submitted work like this for the public to pass judgement was a high school science fair, which, by the way, I barely made work. Me and Science? We’re not a match. The flier sat on my desk for a week before I finally submitted two of my favorite pages. Now here I am, a month later, and only two days off my stolen kiss with Kellan, awaiting everyone’s cruel comments and reactions to my work.

  The library typically isn't too busy on Thursday evenings unless a special event for kids is taking place, so I’m little surprised at the amount of cars filling the lot. This many people turned out for this? A sign right outside the entrance advises me the adult coloring event is in the community room.

  I walk into the room and outlining the perimeter are numerous pages and underneath each is a tag displaying the creator’s name. I spot mine right in the center of all the rest. I submitted a fishing boat picture and the one with the dove and the wheat field.

  A quick head count shows about twenty people perusing the room, studying and commenting on each creation. In the front of the room sits a display of books from the library discussing the adult coloring book trend and how it can be therapeutic. I am a true testament to this.

  I take interest in how others have colored their pages. Some used outrageous colors I would never think to use, others added to them to make them their own. My favorite may be a fairy, colored with markers with pink and purple wings and teal hair, sitting atop a mushroom, smiling. So many personalities are found in this room, in these pictures.

  “I just saw yours. Great job.”

  Kellan’s voice startles me. He’s standing behind me with this arms crossed in a stance as though he’s studying the work intensely. “What are you doing here?”

  “Gretchen told me I could find you here.”

  “And why would she tell you that?” I spoke with her briefly yesterday. I wanted her to come support me, but Mona isn’t feeling well and Clark has to work.

  “Because I asked.”

  Of all the cocky things to say. I want to be upset with him, but what right do I have to be? He can come to the library whenever he pleases; I can’t stop him. That’s twice now, though, he’s ran off on me. Twice! I don’t know what else he wants from me. “Do you always get what you ask for?”

  His eyes twinkle, set against his deep gray wool jacket. “Generally.”

  I don’t respond right away, instead taking a few steps to my left and studying a page from a garden, the stems shooting around the page. I follow the pattern until the lines meet in one spot. “Well, generally, I don’t know what you’re even doing here.” I cross my arms and continue to the next exhibit.

  “Can we talk somewhere else?” His hand touches my elbow and I shiver.

  I glance around and everyone is involved in the drawings. No one seems to care about me and Kellan and this obvious awkward conversation we’re having. We can’t discuss this here. He’s right. I need to be clear with him and put an end to all of it. I don’t want to see him again. Not as a friend. Not as a client. I can’t. “Fine. Outside.”

  I push past him and meet him on the other side of the glass doors. I didn’t grab my coat, and it’s still January, so I’m freezing cold. I don’t care, though. I’ll be in and out.

  “What?” I rub my arms to warm them up, but the cold air slices into them. My legs do a tiny dance and curse me for wearing a skirt.

  “Whoa. Why are you so upset?” His words linger in his breath that fills the air like a dense fog.

  “Why do you think?” He can forecast the weather, but he can’t figure me out. “You kissed me. You’re engaged. It’s not right.” I’m not down with that. I won’t be a part of it.

  A smirk crosses his face. Is he for real? I’ve had about enough of this. I can’t feel my legs, the hair inside my nose is frozen, and I’m ready to take a swing at Madison’s number two weatherman. That’s right. Number two. I could bring that up now, but I won’t hurt his pride.

  “What if I told you I’m not engaged?”

  “What?” My heart skips a beat but finds its rhythm again. He better not think about calling things off with Macy because of me. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. “Yo
u shouldn’t break up with her because of that kiss.” Great. Now I’m the exact person I never wanted to be. I tried so hard to avoid this, and now I’m in the middle. I wasn’t the one who crossed the line with the kiss. Why should I be responsible? “The kiss was a mistake.”

  “Was it?”

  “You said yourself it was before you ran out on me. And, yes, it was, because that’s all it can ever be. One kiss.”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “It can’t be. I care about you too much.”

  I can’t listen to this anymore. He doesn’t care about me. Not like I want him to anyway. Once upon a time I wanted to be with him. Once upon a time I wanted me to be a princess and he my prince. One upon a time I dreamed of our happy ending together. All these months I’ve viewed Macy as the obstacle, the Wicked Witch, the evil stepsister, malicious Queen. Now I realize I’m the villain.

  I can’t say anything to him. I touch my hand to my chattering lips, my throat thickening as tears flood my eyes. A man rushes from the parking lot and I signal for him to hold the door for me. My hands drop from my face as I grab the door.

  “I broke it off with Macy before I came to see you the other day.”

  This is enough to make me stop walking. I don’t shut the door, and I don’t turn around to face him, but he has my attention.

  “Gretchen told me you two ran into her at the bar with Brian Turdow. She also told me Macy fired you and that you didn’t quit. I didn’t want to believe her, but I think I’ve always known. I fell out of love with Macy a long time ago, and she did, too.”

  I finally turn around, the door closing slowly at the same pace I’m stepping back toward him. “Then why did you two stay together?” Why spend years, and pledge to marry, with someone you don’t love? My parents showed me life is much too short to waste it, and isn’t that all they were doing?

  “Comfort. Familiarity. Expectations. Everyone in high school assumed we’d end up together. We broke up for a while in college, but we started hanging out together and thought we’d try again. Getting married seemed like the right thing to do. But, sometime between putting the ring on her finger and actually facing setting a date, I started questioning what we were doing. She did too, even though she kept pushing me to set a date. I dealt with the reality by dragging my feet on buying a house, and she apparently dealt with it by seeing other guys behind my back.” He says this so matter-of-factly.

  I’m touched by his honesty. But if he’s saying he wants to leave her and be with me, is that the right move? Should he rush into anything? Do I want him to? “What does this mean for us?” I ask with caution, not entirely sold on his breakup.

  “That we can be together! Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yes.” His eyes light up and he starts to race toward me. “No.” My mind is a hot mess trying to process what is happening. “I don’t know, Kellan. You just broke up with Macy. You two were engaged. That’s pretty serious. I don’t know if it’s a good idea you jump right into another relationship.”

  “Our relationship was over months ago, maybe even years. Neither of us wanted to admit it. There’s fear in succumbing to your failure. Although now I realize it wasn’t failure at all. Sometimes in order to reach our end goal, we take a few missteps. Those stumbles lead us to where we’re supposed to be.”

  He leaps toward me and takes my frigid hands in his. I can’t believe how warm they are and immediately mine are, too. I still can’t feel my legs, though now it’s because I think I’m floating.

  “I’m supposed to be with you, Kate. We’re supposed to be together.” He pulls our interlaced hands together and presses his lips to my knuckles. “Please.”

  Why am I holding back? Why? This is what I want. This is what I’ve been waiting for since I first saw him. What if it’s wrong, though? What if I’m one of his missteps and a distraction along the way to his true love?

  “Kate.” The way he whispers my name, gentle yet firm and with purpose. He repeats my name, this time pleading.

  Life’s short, right? I can shackle up my heart for all of eternity and never truly experience passion and love like as it’s meant to be, or I can break free of the chains and give myself completely.

  “Okay,” I tell him. “But first, you have to let me do one thing.”

  He pulls me close, driving his mouth into mine, our hands still one, snuggled between our chests. I can feel both our hearts beating. I open my mouth, inviting the warmth of his tongue. A snowflake lands on my nose as we separate. “Anything.”

  I don’t want to let go, but before we move forward as a couple — a couple! — I must seek out my revenge. Before he can even ask what I’m doing, I rip apart from him, grab a handful of snow, and whip it at him. “Got you!”

  “Aw, you didn’t just do that!” He wipes his jacket off and shakes his head with a smile across his handsome face. I bolt for the door when he rushes to the snowbank. He doesn’t grab a snowball, though. He doesn’t retaliate. Instead, he changes direction and opens the door for me. A perfect gentleman. Once inside, he pulls his coat off and tosses it on me, rubbing the shoulders to warm me up. I don’t care, though, that my arms and legs are filled with goosebumps. I barely notice my body shaking because it’s shaking for a reason entirely different than the cold.

  Kellan nestles his face in my neck and releases a deep, happy breath. This is the perfect frame.

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  The smell of eggs and tea wake me. I close my eyes tighter as I pull the blanket up to my chin, moaning in delight. I slept amazing, and want to remain in bed as long as I can, but my nose is calling me to the kitchen. My heart is dancing as I open my eyes, the morning light bouncing off the window and onto my face. I’m in Kellan’s bedroom, lying in his bed, and he's made breakfast. This couldn’t be more perfect.

  I throw the covers off, exposing most of my skin as I’m only in one of his shirts and my underwear. What a relief yesterday wasn’t laundry day! I swing my legs off the side of the bed and find myself humming “Cross My Heart” by George Strait, one of the songs my mom used to sing repeatedly in the morning. Of all the places for her memory to come to me, this is an odd choice, but the song is appropriate.

  I’m thankful for his carpeted floors as my feet hit the ground. I’m a little chilly but don’t see a robe and my skirt and blouse from yesterday won’t do much to warm me up, so I shake it off and greet him in the kitchen.

  "Good morning, sunshine." He winks, teasing me about the time I thought he called me that.

  He shakes the frying pan and slides some eggs on a plate for me. Every inch of him is seamless. He’s wearing boxer briefs — a shade of red that accents everything underneath — and a tank that doesn’t hide his muscles. The cuts in his biceps leave me tingling inside and I want to take him back to his bedroom. Again. ”How did you sleep?"

  "Once we finally went to sleep? Pretty good.” His hand slides behind my back as he kisses me. “I like sleeping next to you."

  I don’t remember what time we went to bed. After an incredible and (much) overdue lovemaking session, we talked well into the morning. He told me stories about growing up with Ned, Ted, and even Macy, and how his dad landed his dream job. I learned all about his journey through meteorology school and his odd jobs that paid for tuition. I opened up about my mom and dad, and he held me as I cried. We fell asleep in each other's arms. A perfect night.

  "I should go into work this morning and brainstorm on how to sell Janice’s house. It’s been on the market much too long."

  "You still haven't sold that one, huh?"

  I take a seat at the small table in the kitchen and he places the plate along with a cup of tea in front of me. “No, but I have to at some point. Even the house that seems the most unsellable eventually moves. But it’s been almost six months now and no offers. Not even a low-ball one we’d call insulting. I can’t drop the price much more. I just … I don’t know what to do with this place."

  He sits across from me and
rests his arms on the table. ”Gretchen said the floor plan is nice, but overall a lot of work needs to be done.”

  "That's the problem. There are some issues, like the driveway and the garage door, which will require more work, but mostly it’s paint. I’m positive I have a few people who may be interested; I just need to contact them. This house is perfect for a flipper. Someone could even use it as an income property."

  He’s nodding his head and smiling. “You really put a lot of thought into this. That’s great. I love a woman who is passionate about her work.”

  I’m not used to flattery, so I drink my tea in an attempt to cover my flushed face.

  “Eat up.” He pushes the plate toward me.

  He doesn’t have one. He’s on one side of the table, empty handed, and I’m on the other, a full breakfast platter in front of me. ”Aren't you going to eat?"

  "I've been up for an hour. I ate before you woke."

  Oh God, I don't want him to sit here and watch me eat. As if he can read my mind, he tells me he's going to take a shower. Now I can eat my breakfast imagining him in the shower.

  I can't believe the night I've had. It's like a whirlwind and a dream I never expected to come true. I think back on our evening together and he makes me feel so safe. The water is running and the only images popping into my mind include me in there with him.

  I’m starving, so I snag a few bites of my eggs and sip one last bit of tea before I join him in the bathroom. I slide open the door and he’s standing there, the water pounding against his body, a slick waterfall running down his chest, his abs, his torso. His eyes fixate on me as I unbutton my shirt, one button at a time, until it’s open, and he can only see the rounds of my cleavage. I wrap my hands around the fabric and pull the shirt down, letting it fall to the ground. As slowly as I can, I slip off my underwear and step into the shower.

 

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