“I can’t believe, all this time, that’s what you thought.” Regret filled her mother’s her face. “I didn’t change for you, Cat. I just…changed. The things I felt were important shifted. Violin will always be a part of who I am. I can still make music whenever I want to. I don’t need people to clap for me to feel accomplished. I’ve had a million other successes, compounded by you and your brother. The sense of pride I feel when Galen wins a fight or you sell a new piece is no less than I would feel if I’d done it myself. And to be honest? The two of you are almost more excitement and adventure than my heart can take.” She reached out to pet Cat’s hair with a loving hand.
“So you’re content with the way your life turned out?”
Kitty shook her head. “No.”
Here it came. The bombshell. Cat braced herself for the cold hard truth.
“I’m happy. Content is something different. It’s passive. I’m actively happy and grateful every day for my life. That I have a good, strong marriage with a man I adore, and two children who are healthy and bright and funny. We get to spend our summers by the lake, and our weekends with our friends and family.” She shrugged, her green eyes shiny with tears. “Giving up my career as a violinist wasn’t a sacrifice, or even a compromise. It was a choice. My choice, so I wouldn’t have to be away all the time. I gave up time doing something I loved to spend time doing something I loved even more. Your choices might be different, and that’s okay, too. But to deny yourself happiness now so that you’re not faced with difficult decisions later? That’s not you. That’s not on your bucket list. So what are you doing here, love?”
Cat stared at her mother as those words sank in deep. The memory of her mother’s violin in the study faded to the background and dozens more battled for center stage. Weekends at the lake fishing for bass, baking cranberry muffins every Sunday, cutting carrots for snowmen’s noses, sewing clothes for her teddy bears. Her mother cheering on the sidelines when she’d opted to try out for the boys’ basketball team, and sitting in the hospital just like today, holding her hand while she got stitches from an elbow to the chin. She’d always known she’d had a great childhood, but she’d never imagined that those times had been as important to her mother as they had been to her.
Cat pushed, one more time, afraid to grab on to the fragile ribbon of hope curling around her heart. “If you had a time machine, and could go back?”
Kitty shook her head and shrugged. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
The truth of it was plain to see on her mother’s face, and suddenly the weight she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying was suddenly lifted from her shoulders. “What time is it?” she asked Kitty, panic wrestling her newfound elation.
“Four o’clock, why?”
“I’ve got to get out of here.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Now boarding zone three. Passengers in zone four, please have your tickets out, and prepare to board.”
Shane stared sightlessly down at the ticket in his hand, wishing he’d booked the flight for later in the week when they’d had first-class seats available. Then he could’ve kicked back and at least attempted to get some sleep. Flying coach made it near impossible for a guy his size to get comfortable, and that meant wakey-wakey for five and a half hours and probably having to chat with his seatmate. The set of newborn twins seated near the gate window chose that moment to start wailing again, and he winced. They still hadn’t boarded yet either, which meant they were likely in his zone.
“Please God, not my row,” he muttered.
He loved kids, but he’d been sleeping like shit lately, and his patience was wearing thin. He felt a twinge of guilt and a rush of sympathy for the harried mother. She was there alone, and she was probably dreading this flight way more than he was. He remembered his nieces at that age. Traveling had been a royal bitch for his sister. Nothing at all like just being able to pick up and go like people without kids.
His thoughts made the short trip back to Cat, who seemed to take over most of his brain space when he was awake. Or asleep. Or in between.
Fuck.
He missed her way more than he should. How had she become such a huge piece of him in such a short time? Before that night in Atlantic City, it had been a flickering hope. A chance in hell that maybe she was finally ready for something real. Once he’d had a taste, he was sunk, and now nothing less than everything would do.
He folded the newspaper he’d been reading and tucked it into the pouch of his duffel bag, then stood to sling the bag over his shoulder.
“Now boarding zone four.” The intercom blared again, and Shane took a look around to make sure he had all his stuff.
“I don’t cook,” a soft voice called from behind him.
He paused in his tracks.
“And I clean, but only when I have to.”
Shane whipped his head around to see Cat approaching on crutches, with an inflatable cast around her leg. Fear lanced through him.
“Jesus, what happened to y—”
She shook her head furiously, tears filling her green eyes. “It’s so not important. The only thing that’s important is that you don’t go.”
“All zones have been called. Any remaining passengers, please board the aircraft bound for LAX at this time.”
Cat hobbled closer, pain etched on her face. “I like my freedom, and I sure as shit won’t ask your permission to cross stuff off my bucket list. I’m cranky in the morning until I’ve had my coffee, and I’m not sure I ever want kids.” She shifted to her good leg and leaned her crutch against the chair next to him, then laid her hand on his chest. “What I’m trying to say is that, I don’t have any idea how to be a good girlfriend. I’m not used to compromising or having someone to answer to or clear my schedule with. And to be honest? It scares the ever-loving shit out of me. But I want to try. If you do. Because being with you is an adventure.”
His heart was hammering in his chest, and it took all he had not to scoop her up and run away with her. Take what she was offering and call it good. But she needed to know what she was getting into.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Cat, but I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”
Her face fell, and the sadness there threatened to kill him, but she needed to hear him out.
“I love you. I loved you when you dated Alex Michlaus and you snuck out of the house to go for a ride on his motorcycle in the middle of the night. I loved you when you decided that the best way to celebrate your birthday was to jump out of an airplane. I loved you when you moved to New York City at the age of eighteen all by yourself just to take a bite of the Big Apple. All the people who loved you sat by and watched you take life by the balls—terrified for you half the time—but no one ever once tried to hold you back. You’re so fearless in a lot of ways, and I admire the hell out of that. We all do. But the other day, at the Abbotts’ cottage?”
He set down his bag and covered her hand with his. “I can’t say that I wouldn’t do something like that again if we were together for real. It’s not about control, or making you change, or quashing your spirit. I don’t want to do any of that. But there’s a line to how much I can take. Maybe I handled it the wrong way, but damn it, all I could think of at that moment was trying to save you the pain of seeing that little girl. So I can’t promise you that I won’t try talk you out of something, or worry about you, or at least expect to be there to pick up the pieces with you when you fall. Because you’re a fucking whirlwind, an—”
“Shh,” she whispered, relief softening her features. She squeezed his fingers tight. “You don’t have to explain. I get it now. And it took me some time to admit to myself that it goes both ways. I thought about that night so many times and, in spite of my stubbornness, I don’t know if I would have done any different in your shoes. Because I love you, too.”
Relief coursed through him, and he bent low to brush his lips over hers, but she pulled away.
“That doesn’t mean I’d re
act any differently if you tried to pull that shit again, though,” she warned with a smile. “I would bitch and complain, maybe throw something smashy for effect, then we’d have to scrap it out before we had super-sweaty make-up sex.”
Damn if super-sweaty make-up sex didn’t sound good.
“Last call for flight two-three-seven.”
Shane pulled away and shook his head slowly. “Shit. Cat, I’ve got to go.”
She drew back, her face going pale. “You’re…you’re still going to leave?” she asked, her voice trembling.
He tugged her close into his chest. “I have to. I’ve got to get all my stuff.”
She pulled away and gaped at him. “Wait. I thought you were going back to California for good?”
He shook his head slowly. “Of course not. I just had to go back for a week to pack up my apartment and arrange to have my stuff shipped here.”
“But your mom said you were leaving, and…” She trailed off and then a light went off and she grinned. “Oh, well played, Martha. Well played.”
Shane leaned back to kiss her nose. “My mom bamboozled you, huh? That doesn’t surprise me in the least. In fact, I have to admit, for the first time in my life, I’m actually glad she’s such a busybody. I’d have had to suffer another week before I came back and put my new plan into motion.”
“What plan?”
He stepped back and dug through his duffel to pull out a small box. “You didn’t think I was just going to let you walk away, did you?”
Her gazed was locked on the box. “What the fuck is that?” she demanded, the abject terror in her eyes almost enough to make him laugh out loud.
“Not what you think. But I’m going to take a knee anyway.” He crouched down and knelt before her. “I’d hoped that when I came back for good and you had a little more time to cool off, I’d be able to get you back. Then I was going to let you get used to the idea before I asked, but now feels right. Cat,” he opened the box and in it was nestled a folded piece of paper, “I know it’s a pretty big step, but will you help me complete my bucket list?”
She blew out a sigh of relief and gave him a blinding smile. “Yes. Totally, one hundred percent yes. Jeez, you scared me there for a second. Not that someday…”
He stood and pulled her close. “Baby steps,” he whispered into her hair.
“Baby steps,” she agreed, nodding against his chest.
A heavyset agent approached them, scowling. “Sir, are you boarding this flight or not? The doors close in two minutes.”
Shit, everything was going so well, he didn’t want to leave her now. “You know what, I can rebook in a couple weeks and—”
“Or, I can go with you if you want some company?” Cat reached into her pocket and pulled out a wrinkled ticket. “I had to buy one because they wouldn’t let me through security without it.”
“Hell yes, I want company.” He moved to pull her in for another squeeze but she held up a hand.
“I can only stay a couple days because I have work, but at least we can be together. And you’d have to take me to the doctor to get a cast, and let me borrow some clothes.”
“Or not,” he murmured, letting his gaze slide down her body.
“Or not,” she agreed, a wicked gleam lighting her eyes.
“Come on, lovebirds, we doing this or what?” the agent asked.
“Yeah,” Cat murmured softly, never taking her eyes off him. “Yeah, we are so doing this.”
Did you love Shane and Cat’s story?
Be sure to check out
Down For the Count
the first book in the Dare Me series
by Christine Bell
Truth or dare…
When Lacey Garrity finds her groom in flagrante delicto in the reception hall closet with her bridesmaid, she’s saved by her best friend’s older brother—childhood tormentor, crush, and boxing bad boy Galen Thomas. Galen’s solution is both exciting and dangerous. What better way to forget the mess of her life than go on her honeymoon with a hot guy who can’t promise anything beyond today?
…or TKO?
Galen had been counting on Lacey’s wedding to put her out of reach—and out of his mind—once and for all, but their steamy Puerto Rican escape is testing all his boundaries. Now that Lacey’s embracing her inner bad girl, Galen is tempted to throw in the towel and claim her for himself. But with the biggest fight of his career on the line and an important business merger threatening to derail Lacey’s resolve, their romance might be down for the count before it even begins.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my amazing husband for being my greatest fan and for convincing me that I actually might be able to do this for real. As always, thanks to Kerri-Leigh Grady for being the fruit in my pie, the cream in my coffee, and the tequila in my sunrise. You are the bestest editor ever. And, last but not least, thanks to Liz Pelletier for making dreams come true. ‘Nuff said.
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