by Judy Duarte
Thankfully, just putting some distance between her and the waiter’s tray was enough to settle her stomach.
Good grief. What was that all about? Why hadn’t she kicked that flu bug?
When she spotted a matronly woman wearing a tennis outfit, she asked where she could find the nearest restroom and was directed to her left.
Once inside, she found a sitting area and took a seat in an overstuffed chair. Her game plan had been to call a doctor once she got back to New York if she hadn’t gotten any better. But maybe she ought to see someone while she was in Brighton Valley. What if the nausea and dizziness were symptoms of something other than a bug, something serious?
If she hadn’t already been told that her chances of getting pregnant were slim, she might even wonder about that. But she’d learned a long time ago not to pin her hopes on having a child of her own.
Minutes later, the nausea passed. As she got to her feet, a silver-haired woman entered the room wearing a cream-colored dress and heels. Catherine had met her a time or two, but to be honest, she’d completely forgotten her name or her connection to Ray.
“Well, hello,” the woman said. “What a lovely dress. That color really brings out the blue of your eyes.”
“Thank you.”
“I haven’t seen you around lately,” the woman added, offering a friendly smile. “It’s good to see you and our mayor together.”
“I’ve been busy,” Catherine said.
“I heard that.” The woman brightened. “You’ve been helping out with the high school dance group. That’s a wonderful thing for you to do. But then again, you are the mayor’s fiancée, so it makes sense that you’d jump right in and get involved in the community.”
Catherine returned her smile, although she was still at a complete loss when it came to remembering the woman’s name. Was she the wife of one of the councilmen?
Maybe she was a councilwoman herself.
“Have you and Ray set a date for your wedding?” the woman asked.
“No, not yet.”
“I couldn’t wait to set a date when Roger and I became engaged.”
Catherine wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“June weddings are always nice,” the woman added. “Roger and I figured that early summer would be a nice time to take a vacation, if we ever wanted to celebrate our anniversary out of town.”
“Now there’s a thought.”
“Well, all I can say is that you’re going to make a beautiful bride.”
“Thank you.” Catherine fought the urge to check her watch. Ray had to be wondering where she was.
“I hope you plan to have a big wedding.”
“Why?” Catherine asked.
“Because everyone in this county loves Ray. And they’re going to want to attend so they can wish the two of you their best.”
“You’re probably right.” Catherine offered the woman her sweetest smile, then excused herself and left the bathroom.
She and Ray were going to have to talk about dates all right. Dates for their breakup.
And they’d also need to come up with a good reason for a perfect couple to split and go their own ways.
* * *
Catherine had been fairly quiet all evening, which really shouldn’t surprise Ray. She’d been introspective ever since they’d made love. Even the heart-to-heart talk they’d had the other day hadn’t made things any clearer.
She’d been right about not getting emotionally involved, but that didn’t mean he was happy about the decision to take a step back—no matter what the future might bring.
Ray reached for his steak knife, cut into the filet mignon and took a bite. He’d eaten his share of fancy meals, but he had to admit the chef at the Wexler Valley Country Club had gone above and beyond tonight.
“Are you sure you don’t want to have some of my steak?” he asked Catherine.
She’d passed on dinner, choosing only the salad with lemon instead of a dressing. She’d mentioned watching her weight, which he thought was silly. If ever a woman had a perfect shape, it was Catherine. But he decided it wasn’t his place to tell her what to eat.
When the people at their table had finished their meals, the wait staff brought out cheesecake for dessert.
“Would you like a bite?” Ray asked Catherine.
“No, thank you.”
She certainly had a lot of willpower. Heather, his ex, would have taken her spoon and at least had a taste.
After the waiter picked up the empty dessert plates, Ray placed his hand on Catherine’s. “Are you ready to go, honey?”
“I am, if you are.”
He nodded, then stood and pulled out her chair.
One nice thing about these public dinners was being able to pretend that everything was still good between them—even if there really wasn’t a “them.”
Still, he had to admit that it would have been nice if they really were a couple, if their fake relationship was real. There was something very appealing about being with Catherine, sharing an intimacy he’d never known with anyone else—even if it was all an act.
Would he ever share that kind of relationship with anyone? He hoped so.
Somewhere, deep inside, he was sorry that it might be with a woman he hadn’t met, a woman who wasn’t Catherine.
After saying their goodbyes to the others at their table, they made their way to the entrance.
“How much money do you think the auction brought in?” she asked.
“Quite a bit. Last year they made ten thousand dollars, and I suspect they did better this time. There had to be at least twenty more people. And they had a lot of nice donations for the silent auction.” Ray opened the door, and when he asked Catherine to step outside, she swayed on her feet.
He reached out and grabbed her arm, steadying her. “Are you okay?”
His first thought was that she’d lost a heel or something.
“Yes,” she said. “But can we stand here a minute?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’m a little dizzy again.”
His gut clenched. “Again? How often have you been having these spells?”
“A few times. Maybe three or four.”
He’d been with her on two of those occasions—both of them in the evening. “Where were you when you had the other dizzy spells?”
“Once I was in the bathroom at the Walker ranch. And then it happened again when I was at the high school. But if I sit down for a while, it passes.”
He hated the thought of her being sick. “That’s a little worrisome, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so. But in this case, I didn’t eat much for dinner, so maybe that caused me to be a little lightheaded. I probably need to have some protein.”
She might be right, but that didn’t make him feel much better. What if there was something wrong? Something serious?
“I’ll fix you a ham sandwich when we get back to my place,” he said.
“That might be too heavy. If you have any cottage cheese, I might have a spoonful.”
He never ate cottage cheese, let alone put it on his shopping list. And even if he did, he would insist that she eat more than that.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Once I get you to the car, I’ll go back inside and ask them to put one of those steak dinners in a take-home box.”
“Please don’t bother the chef with a request like that. I’ll find something to eat when we get home.”
Home. Just the sound of the word coming from Catherine’s lips made Ray wonder what it would be like if the two of them actually lived together, but given their different ways of life, that would never happen.
“Do you think you can walk to the car now?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes, let’s go.”
He slipped an arm around her—just in case she wasn’t as steady on her feet as she implied she was—and walked her to the lower parking lot, where he’d left his SUV.
“You’re staying with me tonight
,” he added.
She didn’t object, which was good.
The next step was to insist that she make a doctor’s appointment first thing Monday morning—whether she wanted to or not.
* * *
Once they’d gotten back to Ray’s apartment, Catherine gave Eva a call and told her she’d bring the minivan back in the morning.
Ray had insisted that she make an appointment with one of the doctors at the Brighton Valley Medical Center on Monday morning, and she promised to do so—if she had another dizzy spell.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” she added, although she wasn’t entirely convinced of that. “I was probably just a little lightheaded from not eating much today.”
“Then come into the kitchen with me,” he said. “I’ll fix you a sandwich.”
“All right. But if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave it open-faced. No mayonnaise, please. And can I please see the nutrition label on that ham?”
He reached for her hand and gave it a warm, gentle squeeze that nearly stole her breath away.
“Okay,” he said, letting go. “But you need to understand something. I’m worried about you skipping meals—or relying on rabbit food to keep you going. And while we’re on the subject, I’m not sure why in the hell you think you have to diet. You look great.”
“I… Well, thank you.” She rubbed the hand he’d been holding just moments before. “But just so you know, I’ve put on ten pounds since arriving. And I don’t want it to get out of hand.”
She also needed to lose at least that much if she wanted to land the lead role in Dancing the Night Away, but she wasn’t ready to tell him that.
“You can lose that extra weight without starving yourself.” He nodded toward the open kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get you some nourishment.”
After pulling the ham from the fridge, he handed it over to her to look at the packaging. Then he took a loaf of bread from the pantry.
Catherine read the nutrition label. The deli meat was a low-fat version, so she decided not to stress about it.
Within minutes, Ray had made the sandwich, just the way she’d asked—with one slice of bread and no mayo. He also added some lettuce and tomato, leaving them on the side. Then he carried her plate to the dining area.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a seat at the table. “It actually looks pretty good.”
“I’m glad.” Ray removed his sport jacket, then he carried it into the bedroom, leaving her to eat.
When she’d popped the last bite of the sandwich into her mouth, she took the empty plate back to the kitchen and put it in the sink.
Ray, who’d come out of the bedroom, slipped up behind her. She’d heard him coming, then caught a whiff of his musky aftershave as he placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her around.
“Now that you’ve eaten,” he said, “I have another request.”
“What’s that?”
His gaze, as intense and arousing as she’d ever seen it, locked onto hers, causing her heart to rumble and her pulse to kick up a notch. But it was the husky tone of his voice and the suggestive words he uttered that nearly dropped her to her knees.
“I want to sleep with you tonight, Catherine.”
If she were going to be honest—with him, as well as herself—she would admit that there wasn’t anything she’d like better. But making love with him, as star-spinning and mind-boggling as it had been, had left them both on edge around each other. And if she weren’t careful, she could ruin whatever friendship they had.
And Ray knew how she felt. He’d even agreed with her.
Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t sorely tempted to make love with him again. And obviously, he was dealing with the same temptation.
The hormones and pheromones that swarmed around them became so strong, so heady, that she could almost see them. But she forced herself to hold steady. “I told you that, under the circumstances, having a sexual relationship wasn’t a good idea.”
“I said sleep. Not make love.”
She paused for a beat, thinking about it—and actually liking the idea.
“Even if we don’t ever become lovers again,” he added, “I’d like for us to be friends. I care about you, Catherine. And I want to share my bed with you.”
She cared about him, too. Way more than she dared to admit—to him or to herself. But she would be leaving soon. She’d even purchased her flight back to JFK for the day after the talent show, although she hadn’t told Ray yet.
And why hadn’t she?
Maybe because she was afraid he had some warped idea that they might actually have a future together. That he’d ask her to stay in Brighton Valley, to be his real fiancée.
If he did, what would she say?
Could she give up her life and her dreams for a man?
Maybe.
And maybe not.
Yet a better question might be: Could she give it all up for Ray? And if so, would she grow to resent him in the long run?
Her heart clamored in her chest, begging to get out and to have a say about it, urging her to agree to more than just sleeping with him, to make love one more time.
And maybe even to cancel her flight back to New York.
But she had to go. And leaving Brighton Valley—leaving Ray—was going to be tough enough without running the risk of an emotional attachment, which she feared she already had.
Yet against her better judgment, she said, “Okay. I’ll sleep with you.”
She told herself she’d made that decision because she hated to have him sleep on the sofa, and she knew he’d insist that she take the bed.
But in truth?
If she was leaving on Sunday, she wanted to sleep next to him tonight.
And even more than that, she wanted to wake up wrapped in his arms.
Chapter Eleven
Ray woke the next morning with Catherine’s back nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped around her.
He’d thought that once they’d drifted off to sleep last night, they’d end up on their own sides of the bed, but he’d been wrong. They’d cuddled together until dawn.
As Catherine began to stir, he took one last moment to breathe in the faint floral scent of her shampoo, to relish the feel of her breasts splayed against his forearm.
She turned, adjusting her body so that she faced him, and smiled. “Good morning.”
He returned her smile. “’Morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Great.” Much better than if he’d slept on the sofa, holding on to his pillow. “How ’bout you?”
“Not bad.”
“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.
“Yes. I guess I just needed a bite to eat and a good night’s sleep.”
He hoped so. He’d been worried about her last night.
“Do you want to use the shower first?” he asked.
“All right.”
After she climbed from bed, he headed into the kitchen, where he brewed a fresh pot of coffee and searched the fridge for something to make for their breakfast.
He settled on bacon and eggs, although he figured it might be best to ask what she’d like to eat. Maybe she’d rather go to Caroline’s Diner.
Minutes later, Catherine entered the kitchen, fresh from the shower.
“Coffee’s ready,” he said. “Would you like me to make some scrambled eggs? Or would you rather go down to Caroline’s? She makes the best cinnamon rolls.”
“I’ll pass on a big breakfast,” she said. “Coffee will be fine for now.”
There she went with the dieting again. Hadn’t she learned her lesson?
He crossed his arms and leaned his weight onto one leg. “Remember what happened last night? You need more than that to get by on. I don’t want you getting dizzy again.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll have an egg.”
Just one? What was he going to do with her?
Love her came to mind. But he shook of
f that thought as quickly as it had popped up. All he needed to do was to fall for a woman who was supposed to be leaving town in the near future.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, taking a seat at the dining room table.
“What’s that?” He pulled two mugs from the kitchen cupboard, his back to her as he filled them with coffee.
“I’ve made plans to return to Manhattan.”
His pulse, as well as his breathing, stopped for several beats, and when it started up again, he turned to face her. “When?”
“A week from next Sunday.”
Eight short days from now.
“I hope that’s okay with you,” she added.
Wouldn’t it have to be? He’d known it was coming, although it still took him by surprise and left him unbalanced.
“I know we had an agreement,” she said, “but the length of it had been indefinite. And, well, I have an opportunity to audition for the lead in a musical, one I’d really like to have.”
His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. Not only was she leaving Texas, but she was going back to the life she’d created for herself, the life she loved.
He couldn’t fault her for it, but it still…well, it hurt to know she was leaving—and before he was ready to let her go.
Her news had jerked the rug right out from under his feet, toppling the phony world they’d created for themselves in Brighton Valley.
“We’ll have to come up with a reason for our breakup,” she added.
It would have to be a damn good one. Everyone in Brighton Valley seemed to like her—and to think of them as a couple. A perfect one at that.
The phony engagement may have worked like a charm, but now he would have to deal with the repercussions of ending it.
Too bad one of those repercussions had just hit him personally like a wild bronc coming out of the chute.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Hell no. He wasn’t okay. But he didn’t want her to know that. Or to think that her leaving was going to be any more than a little inconvenience to him. So he glanced at his bare feet, then back up to her face. “I’m sorry, Catherine. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I had a couple of things scheduled for later in the month, and I was trying to figure out how I’d manage without you. But you’re right. We’ll have to concoct a story for everyone—something believable that won’t make either one of us look like the bad guy. Can I have some time to think about it?”