Only His (15 page)

“The private dining room.”

They separated, walking in different directions down the long hallway. The thick carpeting muffled their steps.

“Here it is,” Montana called. “The private dining room.” She pointed to the sign on the wall by a double door. “That's really what it says.”

Nevada and Dakota joined her.

“Do we knock or just go in?” Dakota asked in a whisper.

“I haven't a clue,” Nevada admitted, then decided to compromise. She knocked once and pushed the door open, doing her best not to remember that the last time she'd done that, she'd ended up seeing her mother naked and having sex on the kitchen table.

This time, however, the surprises were all good. The dining room was spacious, with a table set for four in the center and sofas lining the walls. There was a bar,
French doors leading to a private garden and piped-in music.

Two servers, both good-looking guys in their twenties, smiled at them.

“Ladies,” the taller, blond one said. “Ms. Stoicasescu will join you shortly. She said to welcome you.”

He held out a tray with four glasses of champagne on it.

Dakota whimpered. “This is so unfair.” She turned to the server. “I'm pregnant and can't have alcohol. Is there another choice?”

“Of course.”

He offered Montana and Nevada champagne, then put down the tray and led Dakota to the bar, where he showed her an assortment of juices and soda. The second server approached with a tray of appetizers.

“Ladies.”

Montana took a prosciutto-wrapped melon ball while Nevada picked up a miniquiche.

“Delicious,” Montana said after she'd chewed and swallowed.

Nevada nodded, still eating her quiche. Cat might be a pain, but she knew how to throw a party.

Fifteen minutes later both Nevada and Montana were on their second glass of champagne and the three of them had made a serious dent in the appetizers. Just when Nevada had nearly forgotten why they were there, the doors opened and Cat swept into the room.

She'd changed into white wool trousers and a white fine-gauge sweater that slipped off one perfect shoulder. Her hair was loose and wavy, her makeup fresh, her diamond-and-pearl earrings large enough to be equal
in value to the GDP of a small third world country. She looked like the kind of person who traveled with her own personal spotlight.

“You came,” she said with such delight that Nevada felt guilty for trying to refuse.

Cat walked toward her, hands outstretched. Nevada put down her champagne, then awkwardly took the other woman's hands in hers.

Cat beamed. “Did I tell you how much I've missed you? I have. Desperately.”

She sounded so sincere, Nevada found herself wanting to apologize for their long separation. Cat stepped close and hugged Nevada again, her arms holding her close for a second longer than Nevada expected. When Cat moved back, she turned to Nevada's sisters.

“I'm delighted you're joining me tonight. Thank you so much for coming.”

Dakota and Montana exchanged a look.

“Thank you for asking us,” Dakota said.

Nevada introduced her sisters.

“Triplets,” Cat said, clapping her hands together. “That must have been fun growing up.” She took a glass of champagne and sipped. “Did Nevada tell you who I am?” She smiled. “Some people don't know who I am at first. Then when they do find out, they feel silly for not recognizing me. I think it's easier to just say it all up front. No confusion.”

The statements were amazingly self-absorbed, Nevada thought. Yet with Cat saying them, they seemed exactly right.

“Are you hungry?” Cat asked. “Can we talk before dinner? Would you mind?”

“Um, sure,” Montana said. “That would be fine. We've been eating the appetizers. They're really good.”

“I'm so glad.”

Cat walked toward the sofas against the wall, then paused and furrowed her pale brow. “Oh, if only two of the sofas faced each other,” she said, sounding disappointed.

Instantly the servers leapt into action, pulling one sofa around so it was across from the other with only a slender table in between.

“How perfect.” She blessed the young men with a smile.

The four of them settled on the couches. Cat insisted Nevada sit next to her, then sipped her champagne and studied the triplets.

“I see differences,” she said. “In the light, there are minor shifts in structure and color.” She touched Nevada's chin and turned her head slightly. “Maybe a hint in the profile. I've never been one to sculpt people, but there is something very special about the three of you.”

She dropped her hand. “I'm entering my feminine period.”

The words sounded more like an announcement than a moment of casual conversation. Nevada blinked, not sure what they were supposed to say to that.

Dakota recovered first. “How nice.”

Cat beamed. “Yes, it is. Until now, I've considered my inspiration to be either male or androgynous. But the earth is female and we all come from her. Dust to dust, as they say in the Bible. Now I see the possibilities of female energy. I would love to sculpt you three together.”

She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. “Yes, I can see it. So beautiful and perfect. Larger than life, of course. Your three bodies draped across each other.”

Montana choked. “Bodies?”

“Mmm.” Cat opened her eyes. “Naked. That would be best.”

Dakota's eyes widened. “I don't think so, but thanks for asking.”

“What she said,” Montana added quickly.

Cat turned to Nevada. “Then maybe just you.”

Nevada managed to swallow the mouthful of champagne before she spoke. “I'm busy that day.”

Cat only smiled.

She waved away the tray the server brought by. “If I remember correctly, the three of you grew up in this town. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Nevada said, surprised she would recall anything that specific.

“It's charming. I can see why you like it here. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a home. Restful. The familiar heals us, don't you think? Perhaps I should talk to a real estate agent. Do you know one?”

She directed the question to Montana, who nodded frantically. “Um, sure.”

Nevada did her best not to choke or run screaming into the night.

Cat nodded. “I travel constantly, driven by forces I can't control. Searching for my next inspiration. Once I know what I'm doing, I work fanatically. It's exhausting.”

Nevada had seen Cat work. The hours were grueling, as was the physical task of moving sheets of metal
into place. While she sometimes had men helping her with the heaviest pieces, she handled most of it herself.

“Are you close?” Cat asked her. “You and your sisters?”

“Yes. We've always been close.”

“When our brothers finally went to college, we still shared a room,” Montana told her. “We didn't want to be apart. By the time we went to college, we were ready to be in different schools. Being separate was hard, but good for us.”

Cat leaned forward, as if interested. “No matter what, you'll have each other. That's a true gift. I don't have many friends. I'm not a very good friend myself. Some of it is my schedule. Some of it is how I work. I give myself over to whatever I'm doing. I can be unavailable for weeks at a time. My brilliance is demanding.”

She turned to Nevada, tears in her eyes. “Sometimes I get so lonely.”

Nevada instinctively touched her arm. “I'm sure you do.”

Cat drew in a shaky breath. “I should probably cut myself off from people. It's not right to let them believe I'm like them. I can never be like them. But they're drawn to me.” She turned to Dakota. “I'm very transcendent.”

Nevada drew back her hand and didn't know if she should burst out laughing or simply run for the door.

 

E
VENTUALLY THEY MOVED
to the table and dinner was served.

Cat focused on Dakota and Montana, asking questions
as if she were sincerely interested, then managed to switch the conversation back to herself. Nevada thought it was quite the trick. Even though she did her best to figure out how Cat did it, the other woman was too practiced.

“Do you have pictures of your daughter?” Cat asked.

Dakota pulled out her phone and pushed a few buttons.

“She's a jewel. You're so lucky. A baby on the way and this little angel.”

“I'm very grateful,” Dakota said.

“I would make beautiful babies.” Cat handed back the phone and turned to Montana. “I couldn't help but notice your diamond ring.”

Montana held out her left hand and laughed. “I know it's kind of big, but Simon was insistent.”

“The perfect man,” Cat told her.

“He is,” Nevada said. “He's exactly who Montana needed and she certainly saved him.”

“No one for you?” Cat asked her.

“No.”

She thought about the time she and Tucker had spent in the trailer that afternoon, but told herself not to read too much into it. So far Cat hadn't mentioned him, but that didn't mean anything. For all Nevada knew, Tucker was upstairs waiting in Cat's bed.

The thought and the visual that went with it stabbed her in the stomach. She took a deep breath and told herself to get through the evening. She would deal with the Cat–Tucker issue later.

“I don't have anyone, either,” Cat said. “There are men, of course. Everywhere. But no one is special. I'm
beginning to think I'm chasing a rainbow. I'll never find my pot of gold.”

She picked up her glass of wine. “When Nevada and I met in Los Angeles we had so much fun together. I remember that Hollywood party we went to. Do you?”

“Yes.” She glanced at her sisters. “I was completely out of my element. There were plenty of famous people and I kept expecting someone to ask me what I thought I was doing there.”

Cat smiled at her. “You were charming. It's hard for me to trust people, but I trusted you right away. You were a good friend and I never forgot that.”

Nevada found herself oddly touched by the admission, even as she wasn't completely sure she believed it. Who was the real Caterina Stoicasescu? The proud, narcissistic artist who did her best to suck all the oxygen from the room, or the beautiful, slightly tragic woman who lived her life very much alone?

T
HE DOOR TO THE BAR
opened and two couples walked in. Jo scowled at them. The place was already crowded. Could they go somewhere else?

She shook her head and knew she was in real trouble when she complained about too many customers. Seriously, she had a problem and she was going to have to fix it. Knowing how was a detail she hadn't worked out. But, as usual, the source could be traced back to a man.

Everyone blamed Eve for the whole being thrown out of Eden thing; but Jo preferred to think Adam had some culpability. The man could have said no. But no one ever talked about that. If his friends had said to go jump off a cliff, would he have done that, too? Although, since technically Adam and Eve were the first two humans, according to the Bible, Adam wouldn't have had any friends.

A lovely mental distraction, she thought as she dropped ice into the stainless steel container, put on the top, then shook the martini into submission. But it didn't get to the heart of the matter, which was Will.

One of the many problems with him was that she couldn't make up her mind. She knew what she
should
do. That was easy. Avoid him and say no when she couldn't. It was a philosophy that had worked for her
for years. Yet, when she was around Will, she found herself wondering what it would be like to give in. Just the one time. Except it wouldn't be one time and then there would be all kinds of trouble.

The truth was men were bad for her. Or she was bad for men. Or both. Smarter to stay alone. Safer. She loved her life here—did she really want to risk screwing that up?

She mixed drinks, took orders and directed her weekend staff. Around eleven, the front door opened again. She felt it rather than heard it, then without even turning around, she knew.

Will.

She told herself that he'd probably come by to tell her that he was done playing games. That she'd had her chance and he was finished. While that would make her sad, it would be for the best. She drew in a breath and turned around.

Will was standing at the far end of the bar. Their eyes locked. He looked good, she thought, telling her heart to stop pounding so hard. Really good.

Still watching her, he crossed the line no customer crossed and stepped behind the bar. Purposefully, he moved toward her, intent dark in his eyes.

“This is bullshit,” he told her, then grabbed her upper arms, pulled her close and kissed her.

She felt the contact all the way down to her toes. Long-dormant nerve endings raised their heads and gave a little giggle. Her lungs stopped working, as did her brain. There was only the warm, sexy feel of Will's mouth on hers.

In the back of her mind she was aware of the bar
going completely silent. In all the years Jo had lived in Fool's Gold no one had ever seen her with a man. And for good reason—she hadn't been on a date, let alone kissed anyone.

He drew back. “Go ahead,” he said. “Yell at me.”

A second later, conversation resumed around them. She was sure it was mostly forced, as people tried to listen without listening.

“I don't yell,” she told him, then walked toward the storeroom.

He followed.

When they were inside, she flipped on the lights then closed the door, giving them a little more privacy. He moved toward her, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“Wait.”

“No.” He sounded firm and his expression was determined. “I'm not going anywhere, Jo. I'm not that kind of guy. I like you. I'm just asking for the chance for you to like me, too.”

He spoke as if he meant it, which was damned unfair. How was she supposed to resist a line like that? Except it wasn't a line, which made the whole thing worse. And amazing.

“You are going somewhere,” she reminded him. “When the resort is done, you're leaving.”

He swore under his breath. “Sure. That's years away. You'll be tired of me by then. If not, we'll figure something out. I can learn to deal blackjack.”

His easy discussion of the future floored her. How could he say those things, imply that this was more than just a night of sex?

He stared into her eyes. “I'm not that guy.”

The implication being she was worried about “that guy.” She wondered what he'd heard. Which of the various rumors had been shared with him. There were so many and everyone had his or her favorites.

He thought she was worried about him leaving. That she was afraid of falling in love and being abandoned. If only he knew the truth. His leaving wasn't her problem. He wasn't her problem. The trouble went much deeper than that.

“No one hit me,” she told him flatly. “In case that's what you were thinking.”

His mouth twisted. “Good to know. Now I don't have to hunt the bastard down and beat the shit out of him.”

She was pretty sure he meant it. That he was the kind of man who protected what was his. A good man. Someone she in no way deserved.

“I don't want forever,” she told him. “I'm only interested in right now.”

“I can do now.”

Maybe, but he wasn't looking for a fling, she thought with a certainty she couldn't explain. He wanted more than a night. She wasn't sure she could promise that, but she also wasn't sure she could resist what he offered.

She thought about what it would feel like to be with him, to have him hold her, and she ached. Some of the longing was about sex, but most of it was about connecting in a way she hadn't allowed herself in years.

“I have a cat,” she told him.

“Everyone has a flaw.”

She smiled. “He's a pretty cool cat. You're going to
like him.” She pulled her keys out of her jeans pocket and handed them over, then gave him her address. “I'll be done here in about an hour.”

He took the keys, then leaned in and lightly kissed her.

“You can trust me,” he whispered, before he straightened and walked out.

Trusting him wasn't the problem, she thought, watching him go. The real question was whether or not he could trust her.

 

N
EVADA WANTED
to spend the weekend avoiding Tucker. She wasn't sure she could explain the logic to him, but it made sense to her, and that was what mattered. Not that it was an issue, because he was nowhere to be seen. That was very annoying. Shouldn't he have come looking for her? After all, they'd had sex in the trailer. Conventional wisdom required a conversation after that. On a different topic, shouldn't he want to know how things were going with Cat?

Or was that where he was? With Cat, in her bed, restarting his obsessive relationship with the other woman.

Even though she didn't want to think about the two of them together, Nevada kept getting herself worked up over the possibility. She tried to put her energy to good use by cleaning her place and taking long walks in town. By Sunday afternoon, she was ready to jump out of her skin.

She was on the verge of going for a long run, a truly desperate measure considering she rarely exercised
and never ran anywhere, when someone knocked on her door.

Tucker, she thought in relief. Having him to yell at would make her feel much better. Then he could tell her he was sorry and they could figure out what they were going to do with Cat.

She crossed to her door, pulled it open and stared at the Devil herself.

“Am I interrupting?” Cat asked, strolling inside. “Those boys downstairs are delicious. I met them both.”

“Cody and Ryan?”

“Yes.” Cat walked through the living room. “Oh, this place is wonderful. I want to live here.”

Words to cause Nevada's insides to turn to ice. She shook that off and dealt with the more pressing problem.

“Cody and Ryan are in college.”

“I know.”

“They both started young because they're really smart, so even though they're in graduate programs, I'm not sure they're more than twenty.”

Cat touched a small glass bowl on a shelf, then ran her hands over several books. “You're sweet to worry. They're adults. Let it go.”

Nevada felt vaguely responsible for them. She didn't want Cat mucking around with their lives, but wasn't sure what she could do to prevent anything from happening. It wasn't as if either of the guys would listen. Cat was irresistible.

Even dressed casually in jeans, low boots and a dark purple sweater, she radiated an energy that was
difficult to describe and impossible to ignore. There was something about the way she moved, as if she were so new to this world that every part of it was an exciting discovery.

Cat put down the book she'd been holding.

“What are you doing now?” she asked. “Whatever it is, you can do it later. Come on. I want to see your town.” She held out her hand, as if expecting Nevada to take it.

“Um, sure. I can show you around.” Nevada collected keys and her cell phone, then stuck a few dollars in her pocket.

They went out onto the street.

“What would you like to see first?”

“Whatever matters most to you. What places are special?”

Not your typical stroll, Nevada thought, heading for the park.

The day was sunny but cool. Children played by the lake, feeding the ducks. Parents watched from the benches. To the south, several young boys played soccer. To the north, by the trees, couples cuddled on blankets.

“The first known residents of the area were the women of the Máa-zib tribe,” Nevada said.

Cat nodded. “I've read about them. A very powerful and artistic group of women. They were known for their intricate work with gold.”

“I didn't know that,” Nevada said.

“I've seen several pieces in different museums.” She linked arms with Nevada. “The Gold Museum, otherwise known as El Museo del Oro in Bogotá, Co
lombia, has a large exhibit. I could spend hours there. You should come with me to see it.”

“I'm busy with work now, but thanks for asking.”

Cat smiled. “Always so shy. I remember that, too. From what I can tell, life has been kind to you. So why do you resist new experiences?”

Nevada pulled free and stepped back. “That's not true. I like new things.”

Cat raised her perfect eyebrows. “Do you? Give me an example?”

“I have a new job.”

“In the town where you've always lived, working for someone you've known for years. You are like a little bird, afraid to leave the nest.”

“You don't know me well enough to make that kind of judgment.”

“Am I wrong?”

Nevada raised her chin. “Yes. You are.”

She spoke defiantly, but with a worrisome suspicion that Cat might be right. She'd never been especially adventurous. Not that everyone had to be. Maybe she should change that.

“I like my life,” she added. “I like having my family around me and keeping the same friends. You're always on the go. Are you running to something or from something? What are you afraid you'll find if you settle in one place?”

Cat leaned back her head and laughed, then linked arms with Nevada again.

“This is what I've missed. You stand up to me. No one does that.”

“Because you're so transcendent?” Nevada asked, only a little sarcastically.

“That and fear.”

“At least you're honest.”

“I can be when it suits me. What about you? Are you honest?”

“Mostly.”

“Are you with Tucker?”

Of all the questions for Cat to ask, she thought, doing her best to keep her worry from showing. If she said yes, she would not only be overstating what was going on but she might be challenging Cat. Nevada didn't think that was a competition she could win. If she said no, Cat might decide to go after Tucker again. Either way, Nevada lost.

But if he was so easily persuaded to return to a disastrous relationship, then he wasn't anyone she wanted to be with.

Cat stopped and faced her. “It wasn't supposed to be a difficult question.”

“I know. It's complicated.”

“The best things in life are simple.” Cat stared into her eyes. “Like your love of this town and the lifestyle it gives you. You're right, I am running all the time. Running to find inspiration. Running because if I stop I don't know what I'll find. Running because the going, the back and forth, keeps me from admitting that I'm alone.”

For the first time since meeting Cat ten years ago, Nevada knew the other woman was speaking from the heart.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

Cat squeezed her arm. “I'm a world-famous artist who is extremely wealthy. I'll be fine.”

Nevada smiled, because that was expected. Inside she wondered if Cat had ever been fine or if all the bravado was an act.

“Now,” her friend said, “show me the rest. There must be a town square and I insist on seeing it. Then we'll go to Starbucks and order a drink that comes with whipped cream.”

Nevada nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

 

T
UCKER HAD ENDURED
the incessant whistling for the entire morning. But when Will came back after lunch, still making the noise, Tucker turned on him.

“Enough. You're happy. We get it.”

Will grinned. “Someone's not getting any. Too bad. Life is a whole lot nicer when there's a woman around.”

“Jo?”

Will shrugged. “I'm not the type to kiss and tell.”

“Sure you are. It has to be Jo. Things must be going well.” Not that he begrudged his friend some happiness. If Jo was his type, then good for him. “Just give me a break on the whistling.”

“I'll do my best.” Will leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. “I'm starting to really like this town. It's a nice place to settle down.”

“What would you know about that?”

“More than you. I grew up in one place, at least for the first fifteen years of my life. There were good things about it. Friends.”

Tucker knew enough about Will's past to guess that
the bad had come very close to outweighing anything positive.