Run To You (Puppy Love Romance Book 2)

by Georgia Beers

  Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  “Did I misunderstand?”

  “No.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Then maybe you can help me here.”

  Catherine turned her gaze to the window as she tried to think of something to say that made sense. It got dark so early this time of year, and dusk was already closing in. Finally settling on being as honest as she could, considering she was in uncharted waters, Catherine looked into Jessica’s blue eyes and said, “I don’t know what to tell you because I’m not really sure what to tell myself.”

  Jessica squinted at her.

  “Nothing has happened,” Catherine said, then added, “Not really.”

  “And you think that will still hold true after a weekend away in a cabin?”

  Catherine looked down at her hands.

  Jessica sighed. “Cat…I just…” She shook her head. “It worries me,” she said finally. “That’s all. I have concerns.”

  Catherine scoffed quietly. Who didn’t have concerns around this situation?

  Jessica leaned forward, bracing her hands on the desk. “Look. This isn’t just about the shelter, okay? I don’t want you to think it’s all that. It’s about you as well. I care about you and…I don’t want my shelter to get hurt. But I don’t want my friend to get hurt either. Okay?”

  Catherine nodded. “I know.”

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay.” Jessica stood back up. “Good. Just…be careful. All right? Please be careful.” There was so much packed into those few words. Jessica was saying to be careful. She was also saying I really hate that you’re doing this and why her? and I know your love life is none of my business and if you jeopardize my shelter, I may have to kill you and I love you, please don’t let her hurt you. So, so much in those few words; it was all in Jessica’s emotional blue eyes.

  Their gazes held as Catherine read all those things and then Jessica gave a small, sad smile and left without another word. As Catherine watched her friend retreat down the hall, she saw Anna peek her head out of her office. She looked at Jessica’s passing form, then turned her gaze to Catherine, a half-grin pulling up one corner of her mouth.

  Catherine looked away first.

  ***

  Things were quiet in Emily’s office on December 23. It was a Tuesday, and she wished they’d been busier. Maybe that would keep her mind from focusing on things other than Catherine. Catherine’s eyes. Catherine’s smile. Catherine’s mouth…

  She didn’t have a window in her office, which was a bummer, as people who walked by would see she was gazing out the window rather than staring off into space like she’d been doing for over an hour now.

  They’d texted several times since the winter carnival on Saturday, but either Catherine was super busy (which is what Emily suspected) or she just wasn’t a person who was playful in texts (also a possibility). The messages were friendly enough. Light. But a bit serious. Maybe Catherine was just one of those people who needed facial expressions and tone of voice before she understood what was being said, whether it was joking, playful, or serious. And while Emily’s office was as quiet as a library, Catherine’s was maniacal, as she’d predicted it would be days before Christmas. Because of that, Emily didn’t feel as neglected as she might have if she knew Catherine wasn’t busy. Instead, she did her best to find things to occupy her mind. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and there were lots of things she could help her mother with. Christmas was Thursday and though the office was closed on Friday, Emily would most likely come in and try to get some work done in order to keep herself from going out of her mind anticipating Saturday morning. She could hardly wait to swoop Catherine off to the cabin and have two full days of her all to herself.

  It was going to be amazing.

  Before her brain could go off on that fantasy tangent it was so fond of—the one that tossed her all kinds of things she and Catherine might do together…most involving little to no clothing—her phone rang, startling her.

  “Emily Breckenridge.”

  “Hey, Brecks. Merry Christmas.” Sandy’s voice was cheerful and Emily smiled in response, always happy to hear from her.

  “Hi there. What’s new?”

  “I forgot when we were together last time to remind you about my New Year’s Eve party.”

  “It’s back on? That’s fantastic!” Emily was excited, as Sandy had always hosted New Year’s Eve for her friends, but had to cancel it last year.

  “It is. I missed it too much.”

  “This is good news. What can I bring?”

  She could hear the smile in Sandy’s voice as she said, “A date. You could bring one of those.”

  Emily was pretty sure she surprised her by replying, “I just might do that.”

  Sandy’s gasp was audible. “Seriously?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “The sexy numbers girl from the shelter?”

  “Mmhmm. Do not tell Michelle yet. Please? I don’t want another lecture. We’re getting enough of that from everybody else.”

  “Still, huh?” Sandy’s voice held sympathy, and Emily loved her for that.

  “Yeah, but…we haven’t really been listening…” She let her voice trail off.

  “What?” Sandy laughed. “You’d better give me details right now, young lady!”

  Emily smiled widely as she launched into the story of how she waited for three hours at Joplin’s, how they’d had the wine at Catherine’s house, and how the sexual tension hung in the air like fog. She told Sandy all about the winter carnival, what an amazing time she’d had, and how shocked she’d been to have Catherine accept her invitation to the cabin this weekend.

  “Oh, my God. Em…” Sandy took a beat and her voice got quiet. “You really like this girl.”

  Emily sighed. “I do.”

  “Does she feel the same way?”

  “Well, that’s the complicated part. I’m not sure.”

  She could almost see Sandy’s face, her eyes squinting as she ordered, “Explain.”

  Emily leaned her head back against her chair and stared at the tiled ceiling of her office as she tried to think of the best words with which to describe Catherine. “She can be hard to read. She doesn’t say a lot, but she sees everything, takes in everything. She doesn’t miss a trick, even if she doesn’t talk about it. And you know me, I talk about everything.” Sandy’s laughed only served to confirm what she said. “So, while she hasn’t come right out and said anything to make me think she feels the same things I do, she hasn’t told me to get lost either. She has accepted every invitation I’ve extended. And she hasn’t returned any of my flowers.”

  “Any? How many bouquets have you sent?”

  “Three? Four, maybe?”

  “Wow.” Sandy chuckled. “You do enjoy that. So. The cabin, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just the two of you, I assume?”

  “Yup.”

  “Are you excited? Nervous?”

  “Terrified? All of the above? Yes.”

  “Well, I’ve been to that cabin before. It’s crazy romantic.”

  “It is.” Emily replayed all the things she’d just said about Catherine. They were all true. Catherine had never come right out and said she liked Emily. That she wanted to date her. That they might have something. Not in those words anyway. But Emily didn’t care, because she’d kissed Catherine and Catherine had kissed her back. On more than one occasion. And you couldn’t fake that kind of passion. There was no way. Emily would know. If Catherine wasn’t into her, it would be obvious in her kiss. Emily was sure of it. The thought of kissing Catherine again in a few days set her stomach to flip-flopping and her blood warmed. The thought of doing more than kissing made her fully expect to spontaneously combust right there in her desk chair.

  “All right, sweetie, I’ve got to run. I’ve got some last-minute gifts to grab at the mall.” Sandy said the last two words with frighten
ed horror.

  “Have you never heard of online shopping? What’s the matter with you?”

  “I know. I know. Next year.”

  “That’s what you said last year.”

  “Stop harassing me, Brecks!” Sandy laughed. “Have a very merry Christmas, honey, and let me know how the weekend goes. I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve if not sooner, yes?”

  “Definitely. Back atcha on the Christmas wishes. Tell your parents I said hi. Love you.”

  “Love you back.”

  Emily set the phone down in its cradle and just stared at it for long moments. This weekend was either going to be the best of her life or one of the worst. She was pretty sure she knew which, but was afraid of being too cocky. Afraid the Universe would decide such overconfidence should be balanced with a good dose of bad Karma. So instead of focusing on the upcoming joy of the weekend, she returned to staring off into space.

  The day dragged on like a reluctant child heading to naptime.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHRISTMAS WAS ITS USUAL wonderful, chaotic, stressful, and tiring undertaking. Denise loved Christmas. Absolutely adored it. She was also completely thrilled when it was over. There was such a build-up, such a lead-in. Prepping. Shopping. Cooking. Wrapping. She didn’t mind any of it. In fact, she would almost say she enjoyed the weeks that led up to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Her family was small, but tight-knit, and Denise was happy for any excuse to spend time with her parents and her children. Not to mention her only grandchild.

  Despite the fact that her parents were both in good health and active, they were also in their eighties and Denise was becoming more and more aware that she wouldn’t have them forever. And Jason would get married and maybe move off to start his own life. Her family would slowly splinter, dissolve, and these holidays together meant the world to her.

  Christmas Eve was traditionally held at her parents’house. Then they came to Denise’s small bungalow for Christmas morning, where they opened presents and had an early dinner together. The day after Christmas was a traditional day out for Denise and Catherine. They always went to a matinee at one of the local movie theaters, then out to dinner, just the two of them. It had started innocently enough one year when they’d decided they were bored sitting home and went to see a show. After that, boom, instant tradition.

  Which is why they sat in The Railhouse now, enjoying the remainder of the bottle of Pinot Grigio they’d split and Catherine spooned a hunk of Bananas Foster into her mouth. Ordered by Denise, of course.

  “Are you scheduled at Joplin’s this weekend?” she asked her daughter, then sipped her wine.

  “No, I actually took the weekend off.” Catherine’s blue eyes—so much like her father’s—darted around the restaurant, looking at anything but her mother. “And I wanted to ask you if you could watch Geronimo for me.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. And overnight.”

  Denise’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “Of course. Where are you off to?” It wasn’t like Catherine to be at all cagey or mysterious, so this was interesting. As was the obvious uncertainty on her face. Denise sipped her wine again and waited.

  “Emily Breckenridge invited me to her family’s cabin for the weekend.” Catherine said it matter-of-factly and if Denise didn’t know her daughter so well, she might not have noticed the speed with which she blurted the explanation. It was the only sign that Catherine wasn’t entirely comfortable with this conversation.

  “I see.” Denise studied Catherine for a beat before stating, “You’re nervous.”

  Catherine gave a sigh and picked up her own wine glass. “A little. Yes.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not sure.” The expression on her face told Denise she was being honest and that explained a lot. Catherine was not the kind of woman who enjoyed flying by the seat of her pants. She liked to know the reasons for things and not understanding why she was nervous about the upcoming weekend obviously didn’t sit well with her. Denise had to make a conscious effort not to grin, because it was clear to her why Catherine was nervous. Seriously, for a woman as highly intelligent as her youngest daughter, Denise was often amazed by how oblivious she could be.

  “You seem to like Emily.” Baby-stepping it.

  Catherine gazed off into the restaurant. “Yeah.”

  “She obviously likes you, inviting you to her cabin for the weekend. That’s pretty sweet.”

  Catherine nodded slowly.

  “I kind of love that she sends flowers so often.” Denise had happily shown Catherine the Christmas bouquet that had arrived at her house from Emily the day before Christmas. Catherine had stood there, taking in the enormous arrangement, simultaneously annoyed and thrilled.

  “They’re so expensive,” Catherine said quietly. “And they’re dead in two weeks. It seems like such a waste of money.”

  “Well, they make me happy. And I’d bet you whatever’s in my wallet right now that it makes Emily happy to send them.” She smiled at her daughter to take the sting out when she said, “So how about you smile and say thank you and enjoy them when they arrive?”

  A small grin tugged up one corner of Catherine’s mouth. “I can do that.”

  “Good.” Denise sipped her wine. “Now, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

  “I wish I knew,” Catherine said.

  “Are you making more out of it than you need to?” Denise raised her eyebrows, gave Catherine a knowing look.

  Catherine caught it, and her quiet laugh lacked humor. “Possibly. Probably.”

  “You’re such a worrier, sweetheart. You always were. You overanalyze everything. It’s exhausting to watch.” Again, Denise smiled so Catherine wouldn’t think she was being insulted. “Why don’t you try relaxing and just, I don’t know, going with the flow?”

  “When have you ever gone with the flow, Mom?”

  “Not often at all. And you know what? I wish I had. Worrying is so needless. There’s hardly ever anything you can do about the things that worry you, so just…” Denise held her arms up and opened her hands as if releasing something into the air. “Give it up. To God. To the Universe. To whom or whatever. Just let it go, baby.” She leaned forward and smiled at Catherine as she whispered, “Let it go.” When Catherine tried to smile, but ended up grimacing instead, Denise couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, my sweetheart. I know you so well. Right now, you’re thinking that letting it go is easier said than done.”

  Catherine did laugh then. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

  “Will you at least try?”

  After a moment, Catherine nodded. “I will.”

  “Good. Life is too short, honey. Too short to not grab on with both hands. Maybe this weekend will be nothing. Maybe you’ll come home on Sunday night and you’ll roll your eyes at me as you pick up your dog and you’ll say, ‘See, Mom? Told you. Nothing. Boring. Moving on.’” Denise leaned in again, her smile widening. “But maybe—just maybe—it’ll be the best weekend you’ve ever had in your life. Maybe it’ll be the start of something new and wonderful. Maybe it’ll be the start of the next big chapter for you. Anything is possible. Right?”

  What Denise could only label as relief seemed to pass across her daughter’s face. Even if it was just momentary, Denise decided she’d take it. Anything to replace the constant expression of concern that Catherine sported more often than anything else.

  “Right.” Catherine picked up her glass and held it toward Denise. “To anything being possible.”

  “I will so drink to that.”

  The glasses made a sweet, musical ping as they touched, and Denise watched Catherine as they sipped. Unsurprisingly, the look of slight concern was already back.

  Denise could only smile and subtly shake her head.

  My girl, she thought, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. And her heart swelled with a mother’s love and the understanding that there was nothing at all she could do but watch.
r />   ***

  The next morning saw Catherine packing and unpacking, packing and repacking, utterly lost over what she should be bringing. The reality of the situation was that she was going to be alone with Emily for two days and one night. Alone. With Emily. Catherine was no fool and had become painfully aware of how weak she was around the sexy Ms. Breckenridge. She knew if Emily made any moves that led them in the direction of sex, Catherine would most likely be powerless to stop herself…nor did she want to. She was painfully aware of that as well.

  Dwelling didn’t help a damn thing, and she finally muttered, “Screw it,” and threw some clothes into her bag. Grabbing some toiletries from the bathroom, she packed those as well, nodded once, and declared herself done.

  Mo had watched her intently throughout this whole process and it occurred to Catherine—belatedly—that he actually understood what it meant that she was packing a bag. His normally joyful-looking ears lay flat against his head, his tail was wagless, and when she looked into his weirdly light brown eyes, she actually thought he looked sad.

  “It’s okay, buddy.” She laid her hand on his head and stroked him lovingly. “You’re going to stay with Grandma and I’m pretty sure she’ll spoil you rotten. No worries.” Then she bent close to him so they were nose to nose. Giving him her most sincere expression, she told him, “I promise I’m coming back. Okay? I promise. I will never leave you.”

  She wasn’t sure if it made the dog feel any better, but it helped Catherine.

  Dropping him off at her mother’s wasn’t nearly the ordeal Catherine worried it might be. Geronimo wandered the house, sniffing and sniffing and sniffing, before jumping up onto the couch and settling in.

  “Nice. So glad you’re going to miss me,” Catherine said, with a relieved chuckle. Then she kissed him on the head and moved toward the door. To her mother, she said, “Make sure everything is latched on the fence, okay? He will bolt if there’s an opening. We’re working on it, but I have yet to meet a person who is as interesting to him as a squirrel, so…”

  “Don’t worry.” Her mother squeezed her shoulder. “You go, have a good time, and relax. My granddoggie and I will be just fine.”