Heading East (Part 2 of 2) (The True North Series) (6 page)

I froze, taking in his tie and navy blue pants. I had never seen anyone look so damn sexy.

“You look nice,” he said, reaching past me for a mug.

“Says the guy who looks like a runway model.”

“A simple ‘
thank you’ would have sufficed.” We both leaned against the counter and sipped our coffees, lost in our own thoughts. “How did you sleep?” he asked.

“Compared to my camping cot, that bed felt like sleeping on clouds.”

“You’ve been sleeping on a camping cot?” he asked, his dark eyebrows drawing together.

“I haven’t had the chance to buy a real bed. And honestly, I don’t even know how I’d get it up that narrow stairwell.”

“Damn, Kat.” He ran his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Well, I’m glad you were comfortable here.”

“So what are you doing today? Do you always go to work looking so professional?”

“I have a meeting with the CEO of the company, hence the suit and tie,” he said. “You?”

“Classes until three. Then I have to see if they’ll let me into my apartment.”

“Kat, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. Consider that other side yours.”

“Thank you.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a grin.

“What?”

“Accepting help.” He chuckled when I made a face at him, then he set his cup down in the sink. “I’ve missed mornings with you.”

I watched as he pulled on his jacket, the material landing neatly across his wide back. I didn’t look away when he caught me looking; instead we stared at each other for a moment, neither one willing to be the first to back down.

He looked as if he wanted to say something. Thankfully, he just said “Bye,” before heading out.

I thought about his words long after my coffee was gone. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t like asking for help. I mean, true, I didn’t. But I’d been self-sufficient for so long that actually needing help made me feel like less of a woman, less like myself. I
was used to helping Luke, not the other way around. It was disconcerting and not a feeling I liked. At all.

6

LUKE

“You’re unusually chipper this morning,” my mother said as I pulled out a chair for her at the Blue Fin restaurant. “And you’re wearing your favorite suit.”

“Am I?” I asked, taking the leather seat next to her. “I thought I’d look presentable for our weekly lunch.”

She studied me with one eyebrow raised. “Okay, what is it? Something’s put that perma-smile on your face.”

“I’m just having a good day.”

“Cut the crap, son. Wait—did you get a recording contract?”

That effectively wiped the smile off my face. “No, I
didn’t.”

“I wish you’d let me call my friend—”

I held out my palm. “I appreciate it but you know I want to do this on my own.”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I know. But there’s no harm in getting a little help now and then.”

I nodded. Hadn’t I just essentially said the same thing to Kat this morning? But somehow this was different. There was a distinction between real help and a handout.

My mother continued her interrogation, which continued long after we’d received our plates of food.

“Why are you so curious?” I asked, lifting a piece of salmon sashimi to my mouth.

“Because you are my flesh and blood. It is a mother’s prerogative to know that her son has fallen in love.”

I kept chewing calmly as she eyed me, no doubt trying to see if she’d hit the mark.

“Aha! So this is about a girl,” she said with a triumphant laugh.

I couldn’t help the smile from taking over my face. “Perhaps.”

“Does that mean you’re through pining for that girl in Alaska?”

“She
is
that girl from Alaska.” I told her the story about the day I’d found Kat in the subway. “Her apartment burned down so I’ve asked her to stay with me until she can get back on her feet.”

Mom’s face was lit with glee. You’d think the woman had never seen me like this before. “I must meet her!” she declared in that voice that said she was issuing a decree.

“We’re not together, Mom. I can’t just introduce her to you, not when she’s already skittish enough.”

Mom ate her food in silence and looked at me with her perceptive grey eyes. I’d seen that look before, as if
she’s trying to use her motherly ESP to read my mind. “But you still love her.”

Her words took me by surprise; I almost choked on my spider roll. I nodded in place of a real answer, gulping down water.

“You never stopped,” she said, setting her napkin down and leaning back in her seat with a smug smile on her face.

“No. I never did.”

I left work right at five, much to Lisa’s delight. She had never gone home on time two days in a row. “My husband says thank you!” she sang on the way out the door as she swung her purse in time with her hips.

I rushed home as quickly as I could, given the train timetables, eager to see Kat, needing proof that I hadn’t just imagined the entire situation.

I ran into the woman in question at the lobby elevator. “Where are you headed?” I asked as she stepped out.

“To my apartment to see if anything survived.” She shrugged and just looked at me with a carefully blank expression.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“If you really want to.”

“Come on then, let’s get my car.”

“No.” Her gaze collided with mine and, for that one moment, she let me
see
. “I need… I need the extra time.”

She said nothing during the train ride and only gave monosyllabic replies to my questions about her day. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t distract her from the gloom that had settled over her. So I simply sat beside her and, at the first chance, took her hand in mine.

She looked down at our hands with a disgruntled look. “I don’t need your pity,” she said, attempting to pull away.

I held tight. “I don’t pity you,” I said and leaned close enough to be able to see the freckles dotting her nose. “There’s a difference between pity and support.”

Her eyes flashed and she refused to lean away. In that moment I saw the spark of the old Kat, the one who challenged me at every turn. It was good to see her again. “What the hell are you smiling about?” she asked.

I shrugged,
then looked up as the train pulled into the station. “Here’s our stop,” I said and pulled her up.

“This can’t be happening,” Kat said as we walked inside her darkened apartment.

I stepped into the horrifying scene, sure that my mouth was agape. The walls were black and crumbling and the floor was covered in debris and soggy pieces of insulation that had fallen through the scorched ceiling. The only recognizable thing in the entire place was the pile of metal rods that had once been her bed and a metal folding
chair which, surprisingly, was only singed on one leg.

“No, not my stuff!” Kat ran to the other side of the room and crouched over something that appeared to have been very important to her. She dug through the pile of burned
fabric and lifted out the charred remains of a wire-ringed book. She covered her mouth with a hand and let out a shuddering breath.

I walked over and touched her shoulder, at a loss for anything comforting to say. What do you tell a person who had just lost everything?

She turned to me, her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. When she got back to her feet, I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug, but she fought me, trying to twist out of my arms.

“Just accept the damn hug, will you?” I asked, expending considerable energy to keep her in place. “I’m trying to console you.”

“Let go of me,” she said, pushing against my chest. “A fucking hug isn’t going to magically make this all better.”

I ran a hand through my hair in irritation. “Well, tell me what I can do to make it better.”

“Nothing.” She shook her head as she turned in a circle, eyeing the devastation around her. Her gaze once more landed at the corner, at the pile of burned material and paper. “It’s gone. Everything that means anything is gone.”

For a moment I saw the tears welling in her eyes, but she blinked them away and, with a tight jaw, said, “Let’s go. There’s nothing left here.”

Kat
was quiet on the way back home, affecting that tough persona once more, as if losing everything was nothing more than a blip on her radar. Even when we stopped for a quick dinner at the pizza place down the street she said nothing—but when she didn’t think I was looking I spied the desolation there in the way her lower lip jutted out the tiniest bit, the way her shoulders sagged when I had my head turned away. I felt so powerless in her grief, at a loss for what to do.

Back at the apartment she bypassed my front door and went one more door down. “Well, goodnight,” she called down the hall as she put the key in the lock.

To see her so far away made my chest tight. She was only fifteen steps away and yet she was in a place I couldn’t reach. “If you need anything, just come by. The patio door’s always unlocked,” I said.

She frowned. “That’s not safe.”

“I only have to worry about the crazy lady across the way anyway,” I said, hoping to tease her out of her mood. “Though if you were to sneak into my apartment and have your way with me, I can’t say I’d work too hard to fight you off.”

I thought I spied the tiniest lift to one side of her mouth but she turned away before I could be sure.

I tried to busy myself for the next hour, checking my email and flipping through television channels to take my mind off the woman across the brick courtyard. From my vantage point on the couch I could see straight through to her side, to the large desk where she was hunched over, staring at an open sketchbook. 

I set aside my laptop and stood in front of the sliding doors, crossing my arms over my chest, making no effort to conceal the fact that I was watching her. I stood there for nearly five minutes until she finally realized I was there.

She stood up and mimicked my stance, staring at me from her side with a quizzical look on her face. After long moments she shook her head and walked away, spurring me to action. I slid open the glass door and strode into her apartment.

“Don’t you knock?” she asked, looking up from her sketches.

“Nope.” I walked over and stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at the page where she had drawn different designs but crossed them out. Each and every sketch had been scribbled over.

She slammed a hand on top of the page. “You’re so nosy.”

“I am.” I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll draw you a bath,” I whispered into her hair before pushing away from the table.

She was right at my heels as I walked through the bedroom and into the guest bathroom, finding some
epsom salts and lavender bath liquid in the cabinet under the sink. She watched as the bath filled with water, the bubbles multiplying.

“It’s to help you relax,” I said to her unasked question. “To help you think.”

We stared at each other for a moment and each second that passed I fought the urge to move closer. It didn’t seem appropriate to be aroused, but I had about as much control over my attraction to Kat as I did over the woman herself.

I swallowed down my base needs and stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it then,” I said and closed the door behind me. I walked over to the leather chair and sat down, picking up the book on the side table about the history of fashion.

A few minutes later I heard my name being called and I crossed the room with long strides. I knocked on the bathroom door before opening it a crack. “Did you call me?”

“Luke, I need you,” came the soft, husky voice.

My heart stalled. Was the most stubbornly independent woman in the world admitting she needed me?

I stepped inside and found Kat in the tub, her arms curled around her bent legs. She looked up at me with red-ringed eyes. “I’ll take that hug now.”

7

KAT

I don’t know why I said that or what it all meant. All I knew in that moment was that I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t even know what I was asking for, but when Luke started to take his clothes off, not one part of me wanted to stop him.

I lifted my chin and held his
gaze as he stood naked before me, his body as solid and singularly male as I remember. I scooted forward in the tub and hoped that he’d understand what I was asking for.

He slipped in the water behind me, his long legs sliding around mine. I looked over my shoulder in time to see him bending down to place a kiss on my back.

Not going to lie, that one touch lit up my entire body. With that one chaste kiss the memories of our time together came flooding back, raising goose bumps all over my skin. My happiest times had been with this man, when I’d found pleasure and freedom, when he’d shown me a side of myself I hadn’t known existed.

With my skin tingling I uncurled my body and leaned into him. He folded his arms around me as if he’d been waiting all along. I turned my head to the side and pressed my cheek against his chest, enjoying the tickle of hair on my nose. This, being in his arms, was the very thing I didn’t know I needed.

Without saying a word he took my wrist and lifted my hand out of the water, then gently ran a soapy loofah down my arm, across my chest, and up the other arm, stopping long enough to press a kiss to the scar on the inside of my wrist. He handled me so tenderly that it brought a tear to my eye. Right then I didn’t feel like a little girl who was on the verge of breaking apart; instead I felt like a treasured woman.

“Did you get a tattoo?” I asked when I caught a glimpse of something on his right wrist.

“Yeah. In January.” He held out his arm and showed me the faint brown compass tattoo inside his wrist. Of the points, only the N was present on top of a fleur-de-lis aimed at the palm of his hand.

I traced a finger along the design’s elegant lines. “Does it mean anything?”

His voice came out gritty and low. “It’s a guide should I ever lose my way again.”

I twisted around on my knees and faced him, my breath coming out in ragged gasps as I took in his handsome face, his words in Alaska rattling around in my head.

I was wandering through life without aim, and then you found me and it was as if everything slid into place. In a tiny house in Alaska, I found my true north.

I realized then that maybe I hadn’t lost everything in that fire, that maybe something more important remained untouched by the flames.

So I reached out and kissed him to be sure. With both hands he cradled my head and kissed me back, opening up to deepen our connection. In that moment the grievances between us dissolved in the hot water, and all that was left were two people who had once learned every curve and ridge of each other’s bodies.

When we pulled away to catch our breath, he tipped his head to mine and said, “God, I’ve missed you.”

I buried my face in his neck to hide what his confession was doing to me. I missed him as well, more than I would ever admit.

“Kat?”

“Just kiss me,” I said and crushed my lips against his once more.

His hands traveled down my back, his damp palms sliding along the curves of my hips and down to squeeze my ass as our kissing became more frenzied. I took his bottom lip between my teeth then kissed him harder, my tongue delving deeper. I wanted to crawl inside him and forget about everything but the way it felt to be touched.

“Luke,” I said against his ear as I opened my legs and straddled him, the length of his cock pressing against my mound. “Make me forget. Please.”

His nostrils flared as he nodded, understanding what I needed. His fingers dug into my ass and he took control of my hips, sliding me along his erection.

I hissed as he continued the rocking, my sensitive folds screaming out for more. Even my vibrator couldn’t recreate the feel of skin against skin, of his hardness gliding against my softness. He slid down the tub a little to give us more room, then brought a hand to my mound and traced circles on my clit with his thumb.

I rode him faster,
wanting him inside me but not willing to interrupt the building sensation. If I did, I might come to my senses and get out of the tub altogether.

“Kat, I’m getting close…”

I held his face in my hands and fixed my gaze on the almost pained expression on his face as his body tightened under me. His thumb worked faster, bringing me closer and closer to that cliff’s edge.

With one last stroke the orgasm rocked through my body, my back arching and my legs quaking. Luke sat up and brought our lips together, groaning into me as he experienced his own climax.

We grasped at each other even as our bodies started to come down from the high. He leaned back into the tub, taking me with him.

“It wasn’t a fluke,” he said.

“What?”

His grip on my back tightened. “You and me.”

I braced my hands on the tub and pushed away. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

His smile faltered, but my triumph was short lived because I knew it was only a way to cover up what I really felt: regret. “This shouldn’t have happened,” I said, getting out of the tub. Luke watched me with those translucent grey eyes, his dark eyebrows knitted together. I turned my back and wrapped the towel around my body. “What? You’re not going to say anything?” I asked after the silence became too much.

He gave the smallest shake of the head. “I realize there’s nothing I can say that will make you change your mind,” he said. “But I still hold on to the hope that, one day, you’ll let your guard down and let me back in.”

Tears unexpectedly stung my eyes. Damn him and his stupid, sweet words! “Don’t hold your breath.”

Because I hadn’t had a chance to go shopping yet I had to put on
Lukes pajamas again, then I went back to my last remaining sketchbook.

I started to draw, each grey stroke on the white page confident and bold, but after each design I realized I was only sketching the dresses I’d already made.

“I see the bath worked.”

I’d been so focused on drawing that Luke’s voice made me nearly jump out of my skin. “
Holy crap, I need to put a bell around your neck!” I turned to find him nearly naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe it was the orgasm that fired up your creativity?”

I averted my eyes from his bare body, my cheeks heating up at the thought of what we’d been doing a few minutes earlier, when I’d rubbed up on him like a bitch in heat. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like you have a magical schlong of ideas.”

His deep laugh echoed throughout the apartment, and I felt a rush of pleasure despite myself. He shook his head, continuing to chuckle as he started to walk away.

“Wait,” I called out.

He looked over his broad shoulder with raised eyebrows.

I frowned, my eyes fixed on the center of his back. “What happened to your other tattoo?”

“I got rid of it,” he said as if tattoo removal was as easy as getting a haircut. “So did you want something else?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding fast. I had never been good at this kind of thing. “Um… can I… I mean, is it okay if…”

He turned to face me. “If you can stay a little longer?”

I nodded, wiping my sweaty palms on my legs. “Just until I find another apartment.”

He fixed me with that stare that made me feel like a piece of glass, so fragile and transparent. “You’re welcome to stay forever.”

I broke eye contact and looked down at the desk. This was why I hated asking for help, because it put me in a position of vulnerability. 

“This entire side can be yours,” he said. “We can have a kitchen installed. In the meantime my door is always open should you need to use mine.”

“I can’t afford this place,” I said, quietly doing the math. My father’s oil royalties went a long way in Ayashe but, in this big, expensive city, it was barely enough to pay for that dingy place in Bed-Stuy. There was no way I could afford to live in a huge apartment in this part of town.

“You can pay me with sexual favors.” He held up his hands when I made a disgusted face. “I was kidding. I own the place, so I don’t have to charge you a thing. However, if I know you, you’ll insist on paying. So how about this—you tell me what you can afford and we can figure something out.”

I chewed on my lip as I actually began to consider his idea. To live in such close quarters with the man who drove me nuts with anger and desire was going to be trouble, but it would also solve my problem. At least, temporarily. Not only would I be closer to school, I’d also be in a safer neighborhood with restaurants and shops close by. Not to mention this apartment was the perfect space for cutting and sewing. Already my mind was mapping out the room, figuring out where my worktable and dressforms would go.

For the first time since I’d walked upon that building on fire, I felt a glimmer of hope.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes.”

“I have some terms and conditions,” I said, ripping out a page from my sketchbook and starting a list.

“Let’s reconvene in the kitchen in five minutes,” he said, walking towards the patio door, the muscles in his back undulating with each step. “I only conduct negotiations over a glass of whiskey.”

Four minutes and ten seconds later I walked into the kitchen where Luke was already waiting wearing a pair of black pajama pants. He lifted a bottle filled with amber liquid. “Scotch?”

I had never tried it before, but hell if I was going to admit that. “Sure.” I sat on the stool at the other side of the counter, keeping the island between us, and slid the piece of paper over.

He picked it up and read it over while I took a tentative sip of the whiskey. I swallowed it as fast as I could, wondering how the hell anyone could drink it for fun.

“I have an addendum to number one.” He grabbed a pen and started to write on the list. “I’ve decided that I’m not charging you rent seeing as the apartment is already paid for. However, you can pay utilities.” When I opened my mouth to argue, he shook his head at me, his jaw tight. “You can argue with me until you’re blue in the face, but I’m not backing down.”

I wanted to tell him where to shove his edict, but my brain and heart were both yelling at me to tamp down my anger and just take the damn deal. And when the heart and the brain are both in agreement, there was really no other choice. “Okay.”

One dark eyebrow rose in surprise at how quickly I’d given in.

“What about the rest?” I pointed to number two on the list. “That one’s important.”

“You’ll have your privacy. I won’t enter your apartment without prior approval.” He agreed to the rest of the terms until he reached the last on the list. He placed the sheet on the counter and set his hands down on either side. “Number seven should be struck from the deal. I don’t see how that could benefit either one of us.”

“This situation is complicated enough without sex.”

“Is that what you really want?” he asked, leaning over the counter.

I lifted my chin, pretending that dark, sexy look on his face didn’t affect me. “Yes.”

He went back to the list and scribbled something then slid it over to me. “How about this: I will not attempt to initiate any sexual relations with you,” he said with the hint of a grin.

“I see what you’re doing,” I said. “But I’m never going to try screwing you, so your sexual loophole won’t work.”

“Says the woman who just invited me to take a bath with her then proceeded to use my body for her pleasure.”

“I was in a bad place. I needed to take my mind off my problems.”

“And what will you do when you have another problem?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I averted my eyes, looking at anything else but him. “Then I’ll find some other guy to screw.”

He held out his hand. “May I see the list again?” He wrote down an eighth rule then handed over the page.

“What? No bringing dates to my apartment?” I asked incredulously. “What are you, my father?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking large and daunting. “You’re in New York to study, not date, young lady.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck that. Deal’s off.” I stalked off, crumpling the piece of paper in my hand.

I had almost reached the glass door when Luke said, “Wait.”

I turned, setting my hands on my waist.

“Fine,” he said, though it looked anything but. “Just… be discreet. Please.”

“Do you really think I’d parade men in front of you, Luke? What kind of a heartless bitch do you think I am?” Then, before my brain could catch up with my mouth, I added, “I’m not like you.”

His face immediately clouded over. “Fine. Cross out number eight. Do what you want,” he said with a dismissive wave of hand and strode off to his bedroom, leaving me to stand there feeling like the most heartless bitch on the planet.