“It wasn’t a date.” Wren was quick to object. “And anyway, you’re the one that spotted us; Kate didn’t.”
“Whatever,” Emily said. “But you’re confiding in different people about different things and stepping in when you think it’s needed. When are you going to let people look out for you for a change?”
“Huh?” Wren was confused.
“Honey.” Emily moved closer and slung an arm around her friend’s shoulders to take the sting out of her words. “You’re always pushing us into the spotlight, but staying behind the scenes as much as you can for yourself. When do you think you’ll decide to step out and have a go yourself?”
“I don’t push everyone,” Wren replied, but the denial sounded weak even to her ears.
“Don’t think I didn’t miss that my bookstore guy just happened to have one of our specials when I saw him last Friday. What was that mystery errand you popped out for that afternoon?”
Wren stayed silent, but a slight upward curl of her lips admitted her guilt.
“You know we love you, but sooner or later you’re going to have to take a chance.”
“Take a chance on what?” Wren asked.
“On yourself,” Emily said, tweaking Wren’s nose before turning back to the final tasks of the day.
Wren watched her for a moment, and then slowly went back to work, mulling over Emily’s words.
Kate had finished counting the day’s takings and bundled bills that she added to the zip-up bag. Bending over, she flicked the combination on the concealed safe and added the bag, before closing the door and turning the lock again. She opened the cupboard and pulled out her bag and then gathered up the paperwork that she would need to work on that evening. It was time to complete her monthly order for ingredients, and she found it quicker to do it online at home rather than fuss about with the paperwork too much in the store. Besides, the task always seemed that much more bearable when it was accompanied by a nice glass of wine.
She headed out into the front of the store to see Wren and Emily were nearly done. The floor had been swept, the tables wiped down, and now they were just finishing stacking the freshly washed cups and plates.
“You guys nearly ready to go?” she asked as she set the order book on the counter.
“You sound pretty eager,” Emily teased. “Could it be because you’re expecting a certain someone?”
Kate groaned. She was going to have to accept the teasing as one of the perils of dating in front of an attentive audience. “Is it that obvious?”
“We’re just happy for you,” Emily clarified. “Besides, it’s really exciting, isn’t it?”
Kate cocked her head. “Is something going on with you as well?”
“There might be,” Emily conceded with a modest nod. “Bookstore guy and I are going to a movie later this week.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Wren accused.
“Didn’t I?” Emily gave her a wide-eyed look. “Gosh, I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.”
“Yeah, right,” Wren groused and then brightened. “So who asked who on the date?”
“He did,” Emily answered. “But try not to congratulate yourself too much.”
“Am I missing something?” Kate asked, giving the two of them a curious look.
“Nope, we’re going to head off in a few, though, and leave the coast clear for you-know-who,” Wren said.
“Uh-huh,” Kate replied, giving them a curious look as the two women exchanged a conspiratorial grin and quickly finished their jobs before getting their bags. She waved them off and had just gotten back to her paperwork when she heard the girls exchanging greetings with Michael outside the store. True to his word, he’d arrived to walk her home.
“I won’t be long,” she said as he approached. “I’ve just got to finish up a couple of things and then we can go.”
“No rush,” he said easily.
Her eyes crinkled in a smile before she bent back to her task, working her way quickly through the list, her pen flicking across the check boxes as she scribbled quantities. Michael folded his arms and leaned over the counter, watching her in silence as she worked, noting the line of concentration that appeared between her brows.
Looking up, she hesitated and then reached over with a smile to brush her fingers over the tips of the shortened spikes of hair on his head. “This is going to take some getting used to,” she commented.
“You don’t like?” Michael asked.
“It’s great. I just haven’t seen you with short hair before is all,” she answered. She turned her attention back to her paperwork. She registered Michael shifting away from the counter, but wanted to get her last task done before she could relax for the night. A moment later, she felt the warmth of him as he stood behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder.
A shiver of delight rippled through her as he spoke, his breath sending warm puffs of air against her cheek.
“Do you think you could get used to it?” he asked, nuzzling against her neck.
“I’ll try,” she answered. She had intended to sound teasing, but the feel of him against her had the words coming out as a croak.
Michael began to kiss the side of her neck, something he’d wanted to do all day. “How about now?”
“Getting there,” Kate replied, closing her eyes and swallowing hard before looking at the paperwork again as she tried to focus.
“How’s the paperwork going?” Michael said, peering over her shoulder at the sheet of paper, and then kissing her cheek.
“I’d, uh …” Kate stopped and cleared her throat. “I’d say it’s coming on nicely.” She felt his smile against her skin.
“You’re talking about the paperwork, right?”
“I thought I was.” She laughed. “But I could be mistaken.”
Michael wrapped his arms around her waist, offering nothing more than support while she finished. Kate blinked at the page, realizing that she had been staring sightlessly at it, and then gave up. She folded up the pages and stuffed them into her bag. As long as Michael was providing that level of distraction, there was no way she was going to be able to think straight.
The two of them had fallen into an easy physical intimacy that was growing by the day. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted him, and the suggestion of hardness behind her before he shifted his hips away told her that he felt the same.
She gathered up her bag and turned in Michael’s arms to face him. “Shall we?”
“I was thinking we could stop in at a wine bar or something on the way home for an after work drink,” he suggested.
“That sounds great,” Kate agreed. Michael was wearing a plaid button down shirt over a gray T-shirt, and she could see a few chest hairs poking over the neckline. Unable to resist, she kissed base of his throat. Michael kissed the top of her head in response, running his hands up her arms and onto her shoulders so that he could steer her toward the door.
Once outside, he waited for her to lock up, and then took her by the hand as they started to walk. They had barely gone a few paces before he shook her hand free and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You were too far away.” He grinned. “I like being able to hold onto you.”
Kate laughed as she put her arm around him too, hooking her thumb into one of the belt loops on his jeans as they kept walking. “So where are we off to this time?”
“How does the 8th Street wine cellar sound to you?”
Kate considered it and nodded. “I’ve been there a few times but not for a while. It’s a nice place.”
The last time she’d gone there had been for a few drinks with Wren, and she had woken up with Thomas in bed beside her the following morning. The memory of that made her realize she’d not heard from Thomas for a while now, and she smiled, thinking that his date had obviously gone well for him to have dropped off the radar recently.
“I figured we could always end up having dinner there as well,” Michael suggested, and then watched as Kate tugg
ed at her coat as she thought.
“Okay,” she said, “but I probably shouldn’t have too late a night because I’ve got some paperwork to process at home.”
Michael slowed their pace as he glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to ask if you had something else on. I’m making assumptions here.”
“No, it’s fine, really,” Kate reassured him. “It’s something that doesn’t take too long.” Kate paused and gave it some thought. “Actually, I can probably hold off on it for a day or two.”
“If you’re sure,” Michael said in a cautious tone. He hadn’t stopped to think about any commitments she might have had. The luxury of determining his own working hours and his eagerness to see her had clouded his judgment.
“Sure, I’m sure. We had a busy day, so a glass of wine will be a great way to decompress,” she said, and then added, “Of course, the company doesn’t hurt either.”
“You’ve read my mind,” Michael answered as he hugged her closer.
“Speaking of reading, how’s the writing going?” Kate looked up at him expectantly.
“Not bad,” Michael admitted. “Better than I expected, as a matter of fact.”
“Is that your own humble opinion?” Kate teased.
“Actually, it’s my editor who’s the one getting excited this time around.” Michael thought for a moment and then went on. “I never know what to make of my writing until someone else has had a look at it.”
“It’s a very introspective thing to do,” Kate agreed. “Don’t you get lonely sometimes?”
They crossed the street and kept walking, Michael steering them out of the way of oncoming pedestrians now and then, keeping Kate firmly tucked against his side. Her thumb was still hooked on his belt loop, and he felt her hand tap against his hip as she made a point when she spoke.
“A little,” he admitted. “But it became a habit. I got used to my own company so it became a way of life.” He gave a dry laugh. “Then, of course, the writer’s block kicked in, and Alistair got a lot of mileage out of calling me his reclusive author.”
“Alistair?”
“My editor,” Michael explained. “I’d withdrawn a lot over the last few months. I stopped doing a lot of things because I was just so caught up in what wasn’t happening.”
Michael glanced down at the ground for a moment as they walked, and then shoved his free hand in his pocket, hunching his shoulders forward a little as he clutched Kate tighter. Kate was quiet; judging by his self-protective behavior and body language she could tell that the conversation had hit a nerve.
“That can’t have been much fun,” she ventured after a few more paces, surprised when Michael gave a dry chuckle.
“No, it wasn’t much fun at all.” He huffed out a sigh at the thought of how his life had been a few short weeks ago. “I stopped going out, stopped seeing my friends, just holed myself up at home and got bitter.” Michael pulled a face. He wasn’t proud of his self-indulgent behavior at all. “Alistair had taken to phoning me practically every day to ask how things were going.”
“Surely he must’ve known that would just make things worse.”
“He did, but he admitted the other day that he was also hoping it would make me so pissed I’d write something—anything—as long as I started work again.”
“Well, he’s either very brave or incredibly stupid.”
Michael gave her a droll look. “What makes you say that?”
“I don’t think I’d like to see you in a bad mood: the whole tortured artist routine.” Kate gave a dramatic shudder.
“I’m not that bad,” he protested in a mild tone, and then gave it some more thought. “Actually, I’m not sure. Other than getting pissed at Alistair, I don’t think much has ever made me that angry.”
“You’re too even-tempered?”
“Nope, I just wasn’t getting out and seeing many people,” Michael replied.
“So what changed?” Kate watched him as he spoke, the way his eyebrows drew together in a slight frown when he was choosing his words carefully, how his eyes crinkled with humor.
“Well, here’s the thing,” Michael replied, “I had to escape Alistair one day, so I went out for a walk and didn’t pay any attention to where I was going. Then I looked up and realized that I’d ended up at a café.”
“Really? There are a few of those around,” Kate said, playing along.
“Yeah, there are,” Michael agreed, “but there’s something different about this one. They make great cupcakes, plus the chick that runs it is totally hot.” He gave a mock growl and tried to nip at her throat, grabbing her as she laughed and tried to dodge away.
“So then what happened?” Kate said when they had stopped tussling and resumed their walk.
“I guess there was something so disarming about the bakery that it gave me an overdue wake-up call. I suddenly realized I had to get my head out of my ass and get back to work.”
“Really?” Kate gave him a pleased smile. “Who would’ve thought a cupcake could do that?”
“That and the chalkboard,” Michael added. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go in or not, but the quote outside gave me a laugh and,” he paused as he waved his arm, “here we are.” He came to a dead stop, which made Kate stumble forward a pace.
“You meant that literally.” Kate laughed as she straightened up and looked at the doorway. “I love the feel of this place,” she commented as Michael took her by the hand and led her down the stairs. “It’s like a basement for grown-ups.”
Michael grinned at her over his shoulder. “I like the way you see things. You’ve got a great filter on life.”
They paused at the bar to get a table. Michael put his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the bar toward a small table in a corner, and then held out her chair for her to sit down. Kate set down her bag and shrugged out of her denim jacket. She was wearing a simple leaf-green T-shirt with a v-neck that gathered between her breasts. She wore no jewelry save for a simple pair of hammered silver disks that swung at her ears.
“May I?” Michael asked, leaning forward and gesturing toward the earrings.
“Sure.” Kate leaned forward obligingly, and Michael captured one between his fingers to look at the intricate pattern of irises that had been engraved onto the disks. He released it and ran his fingers down the side of her neck, smiling as she shivered. “Was that just an excuse for you to cop a feel?”
“A bit,” he admitted. “Did it work?”
“Like a charm,” she replied.
“Thanks, I’ll have to remember that,” he replied, watching as she gave him a quick wink and then scanned the menu that sat on the table. After a moment, she reached up behind her to loosen her hair from its customary ponytail and shook it loose. Michael watched as the dark blond strands flowed around and over her shoulders, and the way her arms and breasts moved as she quickly ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it. He looked up and saw that she was watching him with a slight smile.
“So, was that an excuse for you to make me watch you?”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “Did it work?”
“Like a charm,” he replied. He shifted his weight and scooted his chair closer to hers and then reached out to drape his arm around her shoulders. “Now, how about that drink?”
~~~
Kate took another sip of her wine and leaned back in her chair, smiling as Michael ran his hand up and down her arm absently as they spoke. Without realizing it, the two of them seemed to be in physical contact all the time in one form or another: lightly touching the other’s arm to make a point, leaning against each other, and frequently stopping to exchange a gentle kiss.
“So tell me, Michael,” Kate ventured at last, “what is it that you’re writing?”
Michael had been about to take a sip of his wine, and now he stilled. He held his glass suspended for a moment, and then took a deliberate sip before carefully sitting the glass back down on its coaster.
“I don’t nor
mally make a habit of talking about it while it’s still a work in progress.”
“I can understand that,” Kate said in what she hoped was an encouraging tone. “But can you give me a hint?”
“It’s about …” Michael licked his lips, he could taste the Shiraz he had just sipped, “… relationships, interconnectivity, the gulf stream …” He paused and sipped his wine again. “And argon.”
“Argon?” Kate cocked her head toward him. “It sounds like something from Jason and the Argonauts.”
Michael laughed. He always felt uncomfortable and exposed when he talked about his writing before the finished product had been released, but Kate had a way of coaxing words out of him. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and she shifted closer to rest her warm hand on his thigh as he continued to speak.
“If I were being practical, I could tell you it’s a substance used in fluorescent lighting.”
“And if you were being a writer?” Kate prompted.
“Then I could tell you that every breath we take into our bodies contains maybe one percent of an element called argon. It doesn’t react with anything, and our bodies can’t break it down, so we breathe it in, and then breathe it back out.”
“And then what happens?” Kate shifted a little in her seat, sipping at her wine, watching Michael’s face. He was frowning a little, thinking before he spoke in low, measured tones. Kate leaned forward, keen not to miss a word.
“To the argon?” Michael shrugged. “Nothing. It keeps circulating around the world, everyone breathing it in and out, over and over.”
“It just keeps going forever?”
“Mm-hmm,” Michael said, setting down his glass. “Each breath we take contains, I don’t know, maybe millions of argon atoms.” He reached up and gently traced the tip of his finger along Kate’s lower lip. “We could be breathing the same atoms that were inhaled by Leonardo da Vinci while he painted the Mona Lisa, or by Christ and his Disciples at the Last Supper, or even the dinosaurs.” He brushed his lips against hers in a soft kiss.
“And it’s all interconnected,” Kate replied, gazing at Michael.
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