by Zoe York
The next two hours zoomed by, but her mood didn’t improve. Every few songs, she asked Sam to put something else on, never getting quite into the zone.
Finally, she finished with her last client, who had a gorgeous new head of ombre highlights, and when Sam approached with the broom, she held up her hand to give him a high five. “I think we’re almost done for the day.”
But instead of clapping his hand against hers, he glanced toward the door.
“What is it?”
“You have one more appointment,” he muttered. “Or you should…”
She frowned and crossed to the daily planner on her desk. “I didn’t see it in the system at lunch when I wrote down the schedule.”
“It was a last-minute addition I forgot to…” He trailed off as the door creaked open.
Catie glanced up, then understood.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Will said. “I pulled the principal card.”
“Can I go?” Sam asked. “Because this is awkward and weird, and I regret being involved.”
“I’m not mad,” she said. “And yes, go. Thank you for your help today.”
He grabbed his bag from behind the desk and headed out the front door. Catie followed so she could lock it behind him.
“Hi,” she said quietly as she walked back to Will, her heart beating fast.
He grinned as she caught his hand and tugged him to her chair.
She put the cape on him, then smoothed her hands on his shoulders. Big, broad shoulders that she had missed more than she expected in just a few days. “What are we doing?”
“Slowly working our way towards a hard conversation.”
“No, I know that.” She tapped his head with her comb. “What are we doing with your hair?”
“Number two on the side, just a trim on top. Unless there’s something else you’d rather try.”
“Is that your usual?”
“Army standard.”
“I heard they were shifting things up in that regard.”
He caught her gaze in the mirror. “A lot of reservists come in here for trims?”
“Some. You never have before, though.”
“I was a coward before.”
She got her buzzers out. “Tilt your head away from me…just like that. You weren’t a coward.”
“In hindsight—”
“That’s always twenty-twenty. We weren’t ready before.” She moved around him, carefully tidying up the sides before starting on the fade into the top.
The last thing she did was take the guard off and carefully shave a neat edge at the back and around his ears. Then she set the clippers down and picked up her scissors. Will didn’t say anything as she trimmed the tips of his hair, then carefully made sure everything was neat and even.
“Speaking of the army, don’t you have parade tonight?” She put the scissors down and picked up her brush, cleaning all the stray hairs off him.
“I had somewhere else to be.” He watched her in the mirror as she swept up around him. She felt his gaze tracking her movements until she returned to him and removed the cape. Then he caught her by the wrist and tugged her to his side.
She didn’t stop him. She couldn’t.
And when he tugged again, she went willingly into his lap, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
“I missed you,” he murmured as he cradled her in his arms. “And it’s a perfect night for stargazing. Can I drive you home, with a stop in the country to look at the sky and try a bit more of that hard conversation?”
“Yes.” She leaned in and brushed her lips against his. “I missed you, too. I was grumpy all day, and now I’m not.”
After she locked up and they put on their coats, Will drove them north of town, past the provincial park to a gravel road that cut down away from the lake. It was dark at first, densely forested, and then the road started to rise. The trees thinned, and suddenly they were on top of a rocky hill. The peninsula spilled out below them as he did a careful U-turn and parked on the side of the road, the back of his truck now pointing towards the view.
He came around to her side and helped her out.
In the bed of the truck, next to the toolbox and his usual box of could-be-useful-things, was a picnic basket.
“Dinner and a show?” she asked as she climbed in. It was cold tonight, nippy on the nose, but he was prepared.
“I picked up some pie and coffee. You have your choice of decaf, full caf, or hot chocolate.” He spread out a couple of sleeping pads, then two blankets on top of that. He sat and patted the space next to him. “Care to join me?”
She snuggled into his side, and he pulled one blanket over them. She was well past pretending that she didn’t want him. “This is really pretty.”
“The kids who lived here—well, they’re in their forties now. I was a few years younger than them, but went to a few bonfire parties…” He pointed to a field halfway down the hill. “Over there.”
“My generation, the bonfires were south of town.”
He slid his arm around her. “Were you in that crowd?”
“I wasn’t in any crowd. I went to a few parties, but mostly just worked at Mac’s and saved money to get out of town.” A pang of longing hit her square in her chest. This time, she didn’t try to push the feelings away. “This kind of thing? The night sky, the country air, the peacefulness… This is what my mom loved. I didn’t get it before.”
“You didn’t come back for the lack of light pollution?”
She tipped her face up to the heavens. No. Maybe she should have. “I came back in search of…understanding, maybe. Why did she bring me here when I was a child? What did she see here that would be better than a performing arts school in the city?” She reached for the thermos of hot chocolate and took a restorative sip. “That’s all I could see when I was a kid. What I didn’t have here, instead of what we did have.”
“You wanted to act?”
“Dance, maybe. Model. Act, yes. Any and all of that.” She exhaled before adding the real secret. “I wanted to be famous.”
“And she brought you to a small town instead.”
“I thought if I was famous, my dad might find me.” Her voice cracked. “I never told her that. That was my secret. But yeah, I thought…she brought me here to hide me. To stop me from reaching for those stars. And then when I was a grownup, when she moved back to the city to live close to me again, I confessed that part of one night, and we had a good cry together.”
“Your birth father wasn’t a gangster?”
She laughed weakly. “Nope. Just a guy who didn’t want a kid. But my mom made up for that. She wanted me with her whole heart. I never doubted that.”
“What was it like, just the two of you? Did you fight?”
“Sometimes. Not often. I loved her fiercely. I think she knew that. No, she did know that.”
Will dug out the pie options next. She picked cherry. He had pumpkin, and washed it down with coffee.
“What was it like for you? Seven people in a house?”
“All fighting, all the time. It would drive my mother bananas. She would snap at us at bedtime that we always needed to remember that we loved each other, even as we careened off walls and called each other names.” He made a face. “I wish she could see us now. See how much we try to make sure everyone knows they are loved.”
“Because she’s not here to say it anymore.”
“Yeah.” She crawled into his lap and kissed him as he gently wiped tears off her cheeks.
“Grief is a jerk,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Yeah? Tell me about that. I’ve managed to avoid thinking about it too much. Just…feel it. A lot.”
“It’s unpredictable. Confusing. Contradictory.” He tugged her down so she was lying on top of him, so she could hear his voice rumble through his chest. “And it’s different for everyone. Me and my brothers…we all grieved in different ways. To this day, we carry the loss of our parents very differently.”
“I’m scared to let it out.”
He kissed the top of her head. And then the tears flowed. Hard and fast, until his shirt was soaked.
When she lifted her head again, he met her mouth with his own. Gave her a drugging, healing kiss that turned desperate as she pressed against him. As if he ached, too, full of feelings that needed a place to go. A kiss so wild it could convince her to sink into the darkest depths in search of Atlantis.
It felt like their night together. When normally smooth Will, Mr. Always Knows What to Say, suddenly went quiet. And in that heady silence rose another side of him.
If he invited her home, she’d go. If he wanted to take her here, in the chilly night air on the side of the road, she wouldn’t say no to that, either. She wanted that Will again. Wanted to be needed that way again.
But he eased back, breathing hard, and rested his forehead against hers. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be. We both craved that.” She smoothed her hand over his torso. They were warm under the blankets. “We don’t need to stop, either.”
“No, we do.” He shuddered. “It was hard for me to have you, and then not have you. I’m not racing ahead again only to find out you’re not ready.”
Oh. Her heart. Now it was her turn to whisper a broken apology.
He gathered her against him. “One day at a time, one kiss at a time, one quiet conversation at a time, I’m going to show you that I’m a guy you can trust with all of your secrets. All of your fears, all of your regrets, and all of your hopes and dreams, too.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, but you’re worth it.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “It’s not entirely selfish, you know.”
“Oh?”
“You’re there for me, too. Even when you don’t want to be.”
Her chest cracked open. “I do want to be. I do.”
It was letting him in that was the hard part. Being his friend? That was easy. Being his lover? Magical.
But letting herself be loved terrified her to her core.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was an absolute ruse. And a little bit of a fun game—he hoped. Might be more emotional than fun. He glanced at the clock. Catie was taking her sweet time getting to his office. He’d used the intercom to page her, waiting until the kids were almost set to leave. He pictured her excusing herself from the tail end of business club, rolling her eyes as she explained the principal needed to see her about something not at all important, and then sauntering down the halls of the school.
Making him wait.
When she finally appeared, he gestured for her to close the door.
He liked the way her eyebrows rose in surprise.
Well, he wanted some privacy for this conversation. He tugged his tie loose from his collar, noting the way her gaze tangled there, watching his hands work. “I need some advice. There’s going to be a town meeting next week.”
“Oh?”
“I want to put something on the agenda.”
She paused, then strolled past his desk to the bookcase on the far wall. “Is this a trick?”
“No.”
“Because January arrived as I came down here, so I know I don’t need to go back and dismiss the club.”
He spread his arms wide. “And you think I would manipulate you like that?”
“You’ve been acting sneaky. And the whole hair cut ruse…” She gave him a half-smile. “I mean, I don’t mind you wanting to have me all to yourself in your office. That’s hot.”
He groaned. “I promise that’s not where this was going.”
“That’s a shame.” She leaned back against the bookcase and crossed her arms. “All right. What is this agenda item you want to add? And what is the town meeting being called for? Is it Frances? Is this parking again?”
“I think that is on the agenda, but I have it on good authority that it’s not Frances-driven.” He stood and crossed to her. “I know you want us to be a secret.”
“And you want to take things slow.”
That was a very literal reading of their dynamic. What Will wanted was to toss her on his desk and break multiple clauses of his employment contract.
He settled for crowding her against his bookcase and bracing one arm on the shelf beside her head. “I’ll get back to the town meeting in a moment, don’t think you can distract me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
He traced his fingers over her stubborn jaw. “Do you think this would be easier if we didn’t sleep together before? More…straightforward?”
She sucked in a quick breath and gave him a look that was halfway between you’ve lost your mind and remember that thing we did on the edge of the bed?
Yeah, he remembered everything.
“Maybe it was a mistake to rush,” she whispered.
He nodded as he leaned in. “I know. Want to do it again?”
“What has gotten into you?” Her chest rose and fell quickly, but she didn’t push him away. And she didn’t answer him. Yes. The answer was yes. But also, it was no. At least for now.
“You,” he said, then tasted her. Just a kiss, for now. They’d slid into this routine, just one hot kiss full of promise. And then he stepped back, as he always did. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I just got …carried away.”
He crossed to his computer, and gestured for her to sit in his chair.
“I have an idea for something I want to put on the agenda at the town meeting. I thought about doing it as a surprise, as a grand gesture thing, but I thought you might not like that. And this is something you deserve to control the narrative around.”
He hit play on the video.
On the screen, Patrick Hoffer appeared. “I met Suzanne Berton at a singles’ mingle she organized in Lion’s Head, at the Green Hedgehog. When she found out I was a teacher, she asked me if I was good at proofreading, because she sometimes got sentences wrong. She didn’t, not as often as she thought she did, but I was happy to help her. And that fall, I asked her if she could do me a favour in return. I had some students at my school—high school students—who struggled to read and write, and they didn’t much like teachers trying to help them. Would she be willing to sit with them and read in the library? She came in. And for the next eight years, she never missed a week of reading support.”
Will’s attention was glued on Catie, whose face was carefully still. On the video, his voice could be heard asking Patrick why eight years.
The older teacher ducked his head. “That’s when her daughter came to high school. Suzanne found other ways to volunteer after that. And she’d found me more than enough reading volunteers from the community. People like her who struggled with dyslexia.”
Catie gasped.
Maybe this was cruel. Will hadn’t thought about how that would sound to her. He hadn’t known it was a secret, not really, but part of him had wondered. He reached for the mouse to pause it, and she stopped him. “It’s okay,” she breathed. “It’s…please. Just…”
Off-screen, Will asked how else she volunteered. Patrick shook his head. “Every way you could imagine, man. Every way.”
The next video was Frank, talking about community yard sales. Then Owen saying the same. Anne Minelli was next, explaining how Suzanne pushed for a women’s business group, and then Raj Patel talked about how helpful she was to newcomers to the community. “We had that in common,” he said. “She was the kindest person to us in those early days.”
On and on it went. Will had talked to thirty people in total. Some of them didn’t have much to say other than reiterating what Patrick and Frank had told him, but he found a way to splice them all together. There would be more once he made the video public—if Catie wanted him to.
He kneeled beside her. “Your mom was a gift to this community,” he said quietly.
She nodded and threw herself at him. “You schemer.” She wiped her eyes. “This is what you’ve been doing? I thought you were just…camping outside my f
ortress, right?”
“You remembered that. Of course you did. Yeah. But while I was waiting there, trying to be patient, I figured I might as well get to know your mom better. And it turns out, she was a really important person in this building. That’s what I want to take to a town meeting. I want to raise the funds for a scholarship in her honour. And I want to be able to talk about you, too. You are your mother’s daughter, in the best way possible. Everything you do for this community is an echo of, and an improvement on, all the things your mom did for this town. And to do it, you had to leave. You had to work all the way through high school to have enough money to go off and find your path. And then coming back was hard, too. I want to make that easier for kids like you.”
“You sneaky, beautiful man. I thought when you paged me down here that you wanted more help to improve your winter carnival—”
“Our.”
“What?”
He took her tear-streaked face in his hands. “Our winter carnival.”
She wrinkled her nose.
Oh, that wouldn’t do. “Catie Berton.”
“Did you just full name me?”
“I sure did.”
“Why?”
“Because this is your town as much as it is mine, so it’s your carnival, too.”
“Thanks, Mr. Magnanimous. But I know that. I just don’t want to call it mine until it’s better. Hence, the plan revisions.”
He laughed out loud. “God, what am I going to do with you?”
“I would suggest something filthy, but you’re also Mr. Take It Slow, so maybe we can revisit that —”
He rose up, lifting her bodily to sit on the edge of his desk. “You don’t think I want you? I want you so much, I’m prepared to take you right here, right now, where I would fire anyone else who would try the same thing.”
“Will…”
“I want you more than anything. You are all I want, all I can think about, and I’m terrified of pushing you too fast when I see you, Catie. I see how wary and worried and cautious you are, because you’ve been alone a long time. The only reason I don’t push for more is because I’m vulnerable, too. I don’t want to take too much and be left holding my feelings because you’ve run scared again. I want to be what you want. On your terms. So I’m trying to be patient, but God damn, woman. I want you.”