“What’s this about? I know you know what Tara’s up to,” Catherine challenged.
“We were invited—”
“To Drew’s,” Tara added, as she opened Catherine’s door from the outside.
“What?” she protested. “Uh-uh, no thank you.” Catherine crossed her arms, imagining herself anywhere else.
“Come on. Drew just wants to say goodbye. We really hit it off last night and she’s sad to see us leave,” Georgia said, opening her car door and walking around to join Tara on the curb.
“So why do I have to come?” Catherine asked the interior surfaces of the car.
“Get out, Cat. We’ll have a nice a meal. We’ll have a laugh.”
“And the cops will never find us here,” Tara added for good measure.
“You are a wicked, evil bitch, Tara,” Catherine assured her.
She nodded proudly.
“And there is no Joel Trager in the house?” she asked, staring them both down.
“Do you see his truck or motorcycle or dog around?”
“No,” she admitted, getting out sluggishly, like it was too painful for words.
As soon as they stepped in the foyer, Catherine knew that it was a trap. She could smell him. She didn’t know if her friends had lured her here knowingly or if it was all part of Drew’s plans. Or maybe it was all just part and parcel of her grand misfortune—
“Catherine, thank you so much for coming,” Drew said, giving her an unexpected and entirely too-familiar hug for her liking considering the circumstances—that she felt like a complete dolt being led around by the rest of the fools in her life right now. Would you jump off a bridge? her mother would have asked. Absolutely, it seemed.
She had come to this place on a whim and met this aggravating, wholly obnoxious, entirely awful guy who didn’t give a crap about her because he was too caught up in his own life to care about anyone else. Now she needed to get out before he stole any more of her good sense away because she was melting right here on the floor in expectation of his smooth voice and firm presence that was around one of these corners—she was sure of it. Her pride was shattered and other parts weren’t working properly inside as well, like her heart.
Drew finally pulled away after what seemed like full minutes trying to convey a warmth and friendliness that Catherine refused to feel, warding it off with a force field of apathy.
“I was trying to open the wine—” But he stopped, speaking and moving, a broken corkscrew dangling in his hand. His blue eyes questioning and confused. His focus was magnetically trapped on Catherine’s face, and she felt the heat rise inside of her in response.
“Fynn, dear brother, we have guests,” Drew said, feigning surprise.
“But I thought you were flying out today.” His words were directed straight at Catherine, ignoring the other two musketeers flanking her.
She just stared back at him, completely hooked.
“It seems that they had a change in plans, and I thought it only proper that we show them a little Nekoyan hospitality under the protective cover of a roof and walls, you know, impermeable to flying fast pitches,” Drew chuckled, walking out of the room to the further reaches of the house.
The others followed suit. Tara was but a quick blur between Catherine and Fynn; just enough to break their eye contact for the most miniscule moment and keep her from being sucked across the room to him.
“What’s going on?” he asked, beating her to the punch.
“You tell me. It’s your sister—her house, her dinner.”
“But how did—”
“She invited my friends,” she said tightly.
“I was sure you were already gone.” There was tenderness in his voice that she had never heard before.
“Why? Did things snap back to normal?” she asked. “No more craziness so you figure I must have left?”
“You told me you were leaving,” he reminded her. “And yes, it was pretty quiet today—too quiet…. Except in Dobbs—heard they had a little situation at the puzzle convention.” His face changed then, a smirk of awareness and a twinkle of humor. “Was that you guys?” he asked hopefully.
Catherine cast her eyes downward to hide her own matching smirk. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Where’s Dobbs?”
When he didn’t speak, she ventured a tentative glance up at his face, seeing something wholly terrifying there. “I don’t want to make this anymore awkward than it has already been,” she said quickly. “Tell Drew that I appreciate the invite, but I’m not really feeling up for dinner.”
“No, wait,” he said, reaching for her as she turned to leave.
He caught her on the porch when she stopped to realize she had no keys to either car—that she would have to walk the streets of Nekoyah all the way back to the cabin, probably not getting there until after nightfall. Shit!
“Catherine, please. I just wanted to talk to you. Stop running away.”
“I’ve had enough of making a fool of myself in front of you, and for you, and—Fynn, you just bring out the worst in me.” She turned back to him, conveying with her eyes the rest of what she needed to say but couldn’t. That she was falling. That she didn’t want to get hurt.
“The worst in you? Man, that’s pretty harsh,” he said with a deep sigh.
“I don’t mean—oh, you know what I mean! I’ve been a bumbling idiot for days, skulking around town in the same clothes, begging and needling and swindling for a friggin’ toy, baring my body, sharing some entirely awkward and inappropriate moments—I’m not like this!”
“Really?” he asked, the smooth butter melting as it reached her ears. He came toward her. “I kind of hoped that I would be seeing more of that.”
“I don’t want to be that—that out of control; that ridiculous. I left that girl back in high school; at least I thought I did. You know that part that acts like a freak in front of….”
“In front of what?” he asked, so close she could feel him even though their bodies weren’t even touching, like they were charged and the energy was jumping across the space between them.
“God, Fynn, just leave me alone. Let me take my ball and go home. Let me nurse my wounds and forget this all happened.”
He pulled back then—one step, but it was far enough to sever the charge between them.
“So you just want what you came for and that’s it?”
“No. I told you. I don’t want it. I just want to save a little face here.”
“To forget all of this,” he said, motioning around him at this place in time.
“Wouldn’t you?”
“No, actually.” His voice was suddenly gruff; different but still amazing. “I wouldn’t forget the vibrant, crazy woman who walked up to me and demanded to be noticed and heard. The one who knew what she wanted and went for it. The one who wouldn’t leave me be, hounding me day and night to get what she wanted until I couldn’t open or close my eyes without seeing her. Actually, Catherine from New York, I’ll never forget that girl. So you might not want to come around here again because your memory will be alive and well with me.”
She looked into his eyes and saw hurt there.
“What bothers me is that I believe the first thing you thought when you saw me in there tonight was that you wanted out…. That the surprise I saw on your face was a shock of fear,” he said.
“But I saw the same on you.”
“Shock, yes… but then hope that maybe this wasn’t over.”
“What do you mean?”
He came closer again and this time he didn’t stop. His lips were so familiar, suddenly rocketing her through distinct memories of the night before. She felt her insides flip and roll pleasantly. And when he pulled away he had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“Oh, wait, let me wipe that off before you get too big of a head to fit through the door,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her, leaning back against the railing. He tried to protest but she wasn
’t having any of that. Instead she pulled him tighter, giving as good as she had gotten—she wasn’t going to let him win at this either.
And then suddenly the world fell away… and he was on top of her in the bushes.
“What the—” she exclaimed.
“I was trying to stop you…. The railing is dry-rotted. It needs to be replaced.”
“Is this what a life with you is going to mean for me?” she asked. “Spills, chills, and frights—a regular amusement park ride?”
“A life?” he asked quickly. “I was thinking more like a few dates… maybe a relationship. But a life?”
“Very funny, Mr. Trager.”
Saturday
-45-
“Cath-e-rine!” Tara bellowed from the driveway outside.
She went to the window and threw up the sash. “What?” she hissed.
“Are you coming to the airport?”
Catherine could see Georgia sitting in the car, waving from the driver’s seat.
“I’ll meet you guys there,” she said.
“Wait, did he have the goods?” Tara asked with a wink.
“Grow up!” But she nodded before slamming the window down. She turned just in time to see Fynn coming in the room.
“What was that about? What goods?”
“You don’t want to know,” she said with a tight grin of embarrassment.
“Do you really have to leave today? A one-night stand is hardly what I had in mind.…”
“Don’t.” She put her hand on his chest, keeping him at arm’s length where it was safer. “I have to get back. This was just vacation.”
“Why don’t I take you out for breakfast or something—a sundae?”
“Now why’d you have to go and bring that up again?”
“First of all, I can’t go the rest of my life without ice cream because you’re a pincushion. And more importantly, you do know it’s yours if you want it—the toy, my body, all of it—but it comes with baggage,” he said pointedly.
“So there really is no such thing as a free lunch, huh?” she said with a snort.
“No, there isn’t. Do you think you can handle that?” He removed her hand easily, like lifting a feather, and gathered her into a hug so casually that the gesture felt like they’d been at it for years.
She pulled away then, before she melted completely. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing—about Cara?”
“Because I’ve found women can’t handle it.”
“Scares ‘em off?”
“Not at first. At first they find it so amazing and sweet, but then they get too close and they freak out. They run fast and far. I figured the whole thing wasn’t worth it. And I was learning to be okay with that… until you came along. For now it’s still just me. Her mom is doing okay right now, but someday….”
“You’re going to be a dad.”
“Yes. And when that happens, I need someone who can handle that.”
She hugged him, thinking about Josey and about the little girl named Cara who would need love and guidance and all the things she’d never been able to offer her little sister.
“So, do you have any plans for Sunday?” she asked.
“No, why?”
“You want to go to dinner?”
“I thought you were leaving this afternoon.”
“I am, but I have to go to a special dinner tomorrow in the city, and I think I might need you there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“And why might you need me?” he asked, his chin bobbing on the top of her head with each word because she wouldn’t let go.
“Because I think I’m about to find out that I’m actually Canadian.”
2 ‘Til Series by Heather Muzik
2 Days ‘Til Sundae
2 Months ‘Til Mrs.
2 Weeks ‘Til Eve (Fall 2013)
Other Novels by Heather Muzik
Celia’s Journey
Apathetic
Or Forever Hold Your Peace
The Fairytale Mother
Visit http://www.heathermuzik.com for more information about Heather Muzik and her work, including book club interviews and the latest information about upcoming releases.
Contact: [email protected]
2 Days 'Til Sundae (2 'Til Series Book 1) Page 28