"You should try to sleep while she's sleeping."
"I probably should, but I don't feel like sleeping." He walked back to the window, a trip he'd made many times over the past few hours.
"Thinking about Sarah?"
"I can't help it. She's out there somewhere." He waved his hand toward the city lights. "Temperature dropped today. She must be cold."
"Maybe she's inside."
"I hope so. I feel helpless. I'd much rather be out there walking the streets than sitting in this apartment wondering where she is."
"You're doing more than sitting. You're taking care of your sister's baby. That's pretty important. In fact, I can't think of anything more important."
He looked back at her, his gaze connecting with hers for a long minute. "Thanks. I think I needed the reminder."
"You're welcome. And I'm not even taking it personally that you'd rather be anywhere else than here talking to me."
He smiled at that. "I didn't mean it that way."
"I didn't take it that way." She patted the couch beside her. "Why don't you sit down? You're making me nervous."
"My mother used to say the same thing. Mattie, can't you just be still for five minutes," he mimicked.
Caitlyn smiled at the note of unexpected tenderness in his voice. "You loved her, didn't you? In spite of everything."
He looked shocked by her suggestion. "No. I didn't love her. How can you love someone who doesn't take care of you, who abandons you?"
"Because you can. Because love doesn't always make sense."
"Well, that's true," he said, digging his hands into his pockets. "But I didn't love her."
"Have you ever been in love with anyone -- you know, crazy, head-over-heels in love?" she asked him.
"No."
"Do you want to think about it for ten seconds?"
"No," he said with another small smile.
"That's too bad."
"Why do you say that? It doesn't look like love got you anywhere." He shot her a curious look. "Are you going to see Bradley again?"
"Brian," she said with annoyance, somewhat irritated by his perceptive remark. Although, hadn't she come to the same conclusion, that love wasn't all it was cracked up to be?
Still, she hadn't really given up on love, she realized. How could she? Her entire business was driven by the emotion. If she didn't believe in love, how could she design dresses for the most important day in the life of two lovers?
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that's why she couldn't draw anymore. The answer was suddenly glaringly clear. She couldn't draw because she couldn't feel. Her designs had always come from her heart, but her heart had gone out of business.
"Wow, I think I just had an epiphany."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"About myself, about love, about my inability to draw wedding dresses." She shook her head. "It's a long story, but I've had a mental block every time I've tried to design something, and I think I just realized why."
"I take it you're not planning to share it with me," he said after a moment of silence. "Does it have something to do with Bradley?"
"Partly. I did love Brian once, but so much has happened. I don't really know how I feel anymore. But one thing I do know is that Brian is going to get everyone riled up. They won't wait for me to make up my own mind, they'll drive me crazy until I become convinced that getting back together with Brian is the absolutely right thing to do and, in fact, was my idea all along."
"Who's they?" Matt asked, joining her on the couch.
"My mother, for one. She loves Brian like the son she never had. She's already given him my phone number, my address, and invited him to Sunday brunch tomorrow. I'm sure she intends to have me re-engaged by next Friday and married the week after."
He raised an eyebrow. "Your mother would encourage you to get back together with that idiot who left you on your sickbed?"
"She doesn't know the whole story."
"Why don't you tell her?"
Caitlyn shrugged, not willing to admit that she hadn't told anyone the full story, not even him. In fact, she could barely tell it to herself. "You don't know my mother. She always wants what's best for me. At least that's what she tells herself when she decides it's time to haul me in for repairs."
"What kind of repairs?"
Caitlyn waved her hand in the air. "Oh, you name it, I've had it -- braces, contact lenses, laser eye surgery, fat camp, hot wax."
"Ouch."
"You don't even want to know what it feels like to have hot wax dripping down your thigh."
"Don't go there," he interrupted with an outstretched hand. "How women can do that to themselves, I do not understand. Nor do I understand how your mother could possibly look at you and see anything that needs fixing. You look pretty damn good to me."
His gaze traveled from her face down her body and up again, drawing a hot blush to her cheeks. The sparks smoldering between them suddenly burst into flame. Caitlyn couldn't seem to look away from Matt's eyes. She saw his pupils dilate, watched the gleam of desire awaken and stretch like a slumbering lion ready to pounce. And if she'd had any sense, she would have run like hell, because she had absolutely no business leaning forward, and neither did he, but the distance between them vanished like a puff of smoke.
Matt's breath touched her lips first, teasing her with his scent; then his mouth covered hers, drawing her into a deep, heart-stopping, soul-shattering kiss that might have lasted for seconds or minutes or hours. Caitlyn was so immersed in the texture and taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin, his fingers running through her hair and trapping her head so she couldn't move that she lost all track of time. It was a kiss that completely consumed her, and it was only ended because of the shocking cry of a very small baby.
They broke apart in breathless amazement, their eyes connecting on the same note.
"What the hell was that?" Matt asked her.
She shook her head, unable to release a coherent word of explanation. Matt looked from her to the crying baby and back again. "I--”
"Have to get Emily, I know," Caitlyn finished, finally finding her voice. "I must have had too much wine."
"You're going to blame it on the wine?"
"I'm thinking about it," she admitted.
Matt leaned over to pick Emily up off the floor. "What's wrong now, sweetheart? Hungry, wet, what?"
Emily answered him with a downturned mouth that turned into a scream.
"Okay, I get the picture. You're mad."
"Probably hungry, too. I'll fix her a bottle," Caitlyn said, anxious to get to her feet, to move away from Matt, to give herself a chance to regroup.
"I'll change her," he said. "Might as well take care of both ends."
And for a few minutes, they focused only on Emily's needs, the air bristling with electricity, unanswered questions, and unsatisfied desire. When Emily had settled down with her bottle, comfortably tucked into the curve of Matt's arm, Caitlyn decided it was time to leave.
"I'll see you later," she told Matt, staying a safe distance away from him.
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?"
"It was just a kiss, nothing to get too excited about."
"Really? You weren't excited at all?" he asked with a skeptical raise of his eyebrow.
She felt the warmth cover her cheeks again. "I told you, it was the wine."
"It wasn't the wine. It was you and me together, going up in spontaneous combustion. I've been around the block a few times, and believe me that rarely happens."
She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, there might be an attraction--”
"Might be?"
"That doesn't mean we have to do anything about it."
"I think we already did."
"I mean again."
"Well, it could get awkward," he conceded. "I don't usually kiss my neighbors."
"You don't usually talk to your neighbors."
"Exactly."
"We'll just forget it hap
pened. Chalk it up to..."
"The wine," he finished. "But I didn't have any. So what's my excuse?"
"You were temporarily insane."
"I suppose you could drive a man to insanity."
"Very funny. But I'm not like this, Matt."
"Not like what? Beautiful, smart, sexy?"
She swallowed hard as his gaze swept over her once again, making her tingle all over as if he were touching her. And she wanted him to touch her. Wanted the kiss to start over again. Wanted to do it in slow motion this time so she could feel every second. She cleared her throat, trying to clear her head at the same time. "I don't usually kiss men I don't know very well, especially a man I'm not even dating."
"I did buy you dinner," he said pragmatically.
"And I saved you from a screaming baby." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "This isn't even a romantic situation. I don't know what came over me."
He smiled at her, a slow, sensuous, knowing smile that didn't just come from his mouth, but his eyes. "It's okay to want someone without having a good reason. Men do it all the time."
"Well, I'm not a man.”
"Thank God!"
She smiled and shook her head at the teasing note in his voice. "You're not making this easy.”
"Do you want me to?”
"Yes."
"Okay, it was momentary insanity.”
"And it won't happen again," she said firmly.
"I don't know if I can promise that.”
"Matt!"
"All right. I don't think it will ever happen again.”
She supposed that was as good as she was going to get. She turned to leave.
Matt's voice caught her at the door.
"Caitlyn," he said.
"What?"
"You don't need any fixing. You're fine the way you are."
"You don't know the half of it," she muttered as she shut the door. Out in the hall, she leaned against the door and drew in a deep breath. "No one does."
Chapter Seven
After fitfully trying to get to sleep, Caitlyn was not happy to hear pounding at her door just after she'd finally dozed off. The angry shrieks that followed could belong to only one person -- Emily. Caitlyn rushed out of her bedroom in her oversized T-shirt, stubbing her toe on the way into the living room. She opened the door with a curse on her lips.
Matt's shirt hung open, his jeans missing the top button, as if he'd thrown on his clothes in the dark. Emily's face was red, sweat dampening her face, mixing with the tears running down her cheeks.
And besides the din of Emily's cries, Matt had his stereo cranked up full blast.
"Why on earth are you playing that music?"
"I'm trying to cover up her screaming. She won't stop crying, Caitlyn," Matt said, panic in his voice. "It's been hours. What are we going to do?"
If it hadn't been two o'clock in the morning, and she hadn't been so exhausted, she might have found the "we" in his statement endearing. "We could try giving her a bath," she suggested.
"A bath? Are you crazy?"
"It's just a thought."
"You want me to strip her down and put her in a tub of water? I don't think that's going to make her happy," he said with a wave of his hand.
The movement sent a flutter of air between them, and for a moment Emily gasped and stopped crying, then immediately started again.
"I have an idea," Caitlyn said. "Go get the comforter."
"Why?"
"Just do it. Jeez, you ask a lot of questions. And turn off that music, too."
While Matt was gone, Caitlyn grabbed her overcoat out of the closet and threw it on. Then she met him in the hallway, which was thankfully a bit more quiet, although Emily was still crying. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked.
"The roof."
"What?"
"Come on." She led the way to the stairwell at the end of the hall and up the flight of stairs to the roof. She opened the door and stepped out onto the flat landing. The air was bracingly cold and stopped Emily in mid scream.
Caitlyn waited for a second, which turned into a minute, holding her own breath and hoping, just hoping, that something she'd read about babies liking to be outside was true.
"I think she stopped," Matt whispered in amazement.
"Don't jinx her. She might just be catching her breath."
Both Caitlyn and Matt stared at Emily as she blinked suspiciously at them both.
"Let's walk over there," Caitlyn suggested, heading toward the railing. She'd discovered the roof a few months earlier when her father had told her to find a good spot to watch an eclipse. Since then she'd come up a few times to clear her head, to soak in the great city view, or just to get away from it all. There was a large step-down at the far end of the roof that made a nice bench. Caitlyn sat down with Matt and helped him adjust the comforter around Emily.
It was a clear night for a change, the fog remaining safely offshore. Caitlyn took several deep breaths, her pulse attempting to settle down now that Emily was quiet.
"This is incredible," Matt said. "I think she's falling asleep."
Caitlyn watched as Emily's eyes blinked once, twice, then her lids settled with a soft sigh.
"Now what?" Matt asked.
Caitlyn sent him a smile. "I have no idea. I guess maybe we could go back inside, see if she stays asleep."
"Let's give her a minute, make sure she's really out." He sighed. "I never appreciated the quiet until just this second. I wonder if Emily cried this much with Sarah. I can see how the constant crying could drive you nuts."
"She might have colic. One of my friends had a baby who cried all the time, especially at night. She used to try everything to get her to calm down."
"Like going up to the roof at two o'clock in the morning in a nightgown and overcoat?" he asked with an appreciative grin.
Caitlyn pulled her coat more closely around her shoulders. "You're not supposed to be looking at me."
"Why not? The view is good from where I'm sitting."
His voice held a note of genuine appreciation that sent an unexpected thrill down her spine. So much for forgetting about kissing him and ignoring their attraction. A few hours into their agreement, and she was already wondering just how hot his lips would be in the cool night air.
"Say something," Matt commanded her.
"Like what?"
"Doesn't matter. Just something to distract me from..."
"From what?"
"You."
She swallowed hard, searching for something to say to deflect his attention from her. The answer was in the sky overhead. "Did you know that there are eighty-eight constellations that you can see from Earth?"
Matt shook his head with a wry smile. "I had no idea."
"It's true. Although the constellations are somewhat arbitrary depending on where you are." Caitlyn tilted her head back, studying the stars. "It's not as easy to see them here in the city, but when you go up in the mountains away from the lights, you can see things you'd never imagine."
Matt looked up at the sky overhead. "I know nothing about the stars. The way I grew up, it was more practical to keep your eyes on the ground, watch where you were stepping or who you were tripping over."
"That's kind of sad."
Matt shrugged. "There are a lot of sad things in the world. Oh, I forgot -- you wouldn't know about them, because you don't read the newspaper."
She shrugged off his teasing jab. "I keep up with what I need to know, but I think you can drown in the bad stuff if that's all you ever hear about. It's like a traffic accident. I don't have to look when I go by. I don't have to see the mangled metal car doors and the bloodstains on the ground to figure out something nasty happened. But that's what the news gives us, every last icky detail."
"Which fascinates most people, by the way. That's why the traffic comes to a dead stop when there's an accident. Everyone wants to see."
"Well, I'd rather not."
"You'd rather bury your head under the
covers."
"Or look toward the stars," she told him. "Come on, you have to admit the universe is awe inspiring."
"I guess," he said grudgingly, following her gaze toward the heavens.
"My father -- an astronomy professor, by the way -- would love to get on the space shuttle and fly to the moon. He has always been mesmerized by the limitlessness of space. Infinity is his favorite number. He's a real dreamer, the quintessential absent minded professor."
"It sounds like you take after him."
"Maybe a little in the dreaming department. It's funny, though, how different he and my mom are. They're both smart as can be, but my mother has to be in absolute control of everything in her life, and my father is like a leaf on the wind, drifting down, then up and away. I'm never quite sure when he's going to touch down."
"Doesn't sound like he was there much for you," Matt observed.
She shrugged. "He loves his work. So does my mother. She's a math professor."
"You're surrounded by eggheads."
"Geniuses," she agreed. "All mentally gifted, Brian, too. Sometimes, I think he should have been their real child. He fits in so perfectly with them. They rarely know what to do with me."
"I don't think you're a dummy, Caitlyn."
"Maybe not a dummy, but I wasn't a good student. I used to daydream and doodle all over my papers. My parents would get so frustrated with me. And when I said I wanted to major in fashion design, they almost collapsed. I think when I brought Brian home, they breathed a sigh of relief, because now they could be with me but have someone sort of in between us to be a bridge, a translator, whatever you want to call it."
"That's why you got engaged to the guy?" Matt asked, a note of amusement in his voice.
"No," she said firmly, shooting him a dark look. "I got engaged to him because I loved him. Having my parents love him was an added bonus -- at the time, anyway. Now it's more like a nightmare."
"You could just take him back. That's what he wants."
"I could. Probably even should. Don't you hate that word, should! It seems to drive my life. What I should do always seems more important than what I want to do."
"Duty versus desire," he said, rolling his tongue around the word desire in such a way that made her shiver.
Just the night air she told herself, another lie in the growing attraction between them. Because if Brian was duty, then Matt was definitely desire. But she wasn't choosing between them, for heaven's sake. Matt was her neighbor. She couldn't even call him a friend. How could she desire a man she didn't know anything about?
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