Over the Fence (34 page)

“I think she would.”

“Okay, Nathan. I wish you luck. Don’t wait too much longer.”

I held out my hand, grateful for his friendship. “I won’t. I’ll find the right time and tell her. Soon.”

The house was empty when I got back from seeing Grant. Music was playing, so I knew Kourtney was there, and I walked toward the back to go and find her. I needed to see her.

The whole drive home, I wrestled with what he said. He was right—she had trusted me enough to tell me her story, and I had to do the same. I had to tell her the truth, answer her questions, hope she would forgive me for not telling her sooner, and she would still want me in her life. I sighed as I paused at the screen door, looking at her. I was also hoping she felt the same way I did—I wanted her to love me in return. I thought she had feelings for me, but how deep they were, I didn’t know. That was the big question at the moment. Did she care enough to forgive me for holding back on her?

Her head was bent over some chore as she sat at the table. Her beautiful hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back, the sunlight catching the different colors in it as she worked away, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in concentration. There was a bag of some sort at her feet and the flash of knitting needles as her hands flew; a small pile of fuzzy items on the table beside her. I moved forward, the need to touch her too strong to hold back any longer. Her head turned at the sound of the screen door sliding open, and I was greeted with her warm smile as I strode toward her. I dropped to my knees when I reached her and cupped the back of her head, bringing her lips to mine, feeling instant happiness as I felt her mouth settle under my own. Languidly, I stroked her tongue, before I tilted her head, deepening the kiss as I held her tight. Her hands wound in my hair as she returned my passion. Drawing back, I leaned my forehead to hers. “Hey, Chefgirl.”

“Hi,” she whispered. “You okay? How was coffee with your friend?”

I dropped another kiss onto her sweet mouth, sitting down next to her. “Yeah, it’s all good. I missed you, though.” Bending down, I grabbed the knitting needles she had dropped and handed them to her. “What are you working on so furiously?”

She chuckled as she started her fast movements again. “Baby bonnets. I need some, fast.”

My hand froze as I was reaching forward to pick up one of the small items on the table. My eyes flew to her, the sounds of the needles clicking growing louder by the second. She needed them . . .
fast
? There was a sudden, dull roar in my ears as I stared, with one large question looming in my brain.

“Kourtney?” I asked; my voice thick with distress.

Her head flew up at the sound of my unsteady speech, her eyes taking in my frozen posture. For a minute our eyes connected; hers confused, mine panic-filled.

“I thought . . .” I trailed off, unable to say anything else, unsure how to react. I swallowed and tried again. “I thought you said . . .”

A look of understanding crossed her face and she leaned forward.

“
No
!” she exclaimed, interrupting me. “No, Nat! I knit these for preemies at the hospital. They called earlier to say they were all out! I’m trying to get some done to take over later!”

I sat back, my shoulders sagging, feeling relief course through me.

Kourtney looked at me for a moment, then started to giggle.

“You should have seen the look on your face.”

“You should feel my heart right now.”

She looked at me. “I’m not pregnant. The bonnets are not for me.” She paused, another giggle escaping her lips. “We’ve, ah, only been together a little while. And I’m on birth control.” She shook her head. “And, if I was pregnant, do you really think my first reaction would be to start knitting bonnets?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe you were . . . nesting.”

She burst into laughter. “Nesting?”

“It’s a word.”

“I know it’s a word, but not one I thought you knew.”

I sniffed haughtily; feeling relieved she wasn’t upset over my reaction, but chose to see the humor in it. “I know lots of words, Kourtney.”

She shook her head as she continued to knit. “So I’m learning. But not one you need to use right now.” She looked up at me seriously. “If I had made a mistake like that, Nathan, I promise you I would find a better way to tell you.”

Mistake?

I studied her, the sudden image of her pregnant with a child—with our child—entering my mind. I could see her, glowing and round, as she knitted something for them. I was surprised to find I liked the image.

I cupped her face, stroking the warm skin with my thumbs. “A child would never be a mistake with you, Kourtney—ever. I won’t lie, it would be a bit of a shock right now, but not a mistake and it would be on both of us. Not just you.” I met her gaze. “So, not right now, but someday . . . maybe?”

She stared at me, her eyes huge as she took in my expression and words.

“Maybe . . . someday.”

I smiled. I think I had my answer.

We didn’t venture far from each other the rest of the day. Later that afternoon we were outside, enjoying the sun. Kourtney worked on some more bonnets while I checked things via email.

I looked up from my laptop. “Kourtney? Joanne paid a visit to Andy yesterday. She dropped by the garage with her partner.”

Her head snapped up, her hands stopped their busy movements and her eyes round with panic. “Oh?”

I read the email again, frowning, as I edited somewhat. “Andy won’t be contacting you again. He admits he was drunk and angry, and knows what will happen if he’s that stupid again. She and her partner were, ah, rather blunt with him.” I read a few more lines. “She thinks you’re an amazing person.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Why would she think that?”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Because most people would have gone the other route—got an order done, or had him arrested for assault, and been done with it. They wouldn’t care about the consequences. For him or your father.”

She lowered her head and shrugged. “I couldn’t do that.”

Reaching over, I wrapped my hand around hers. “I know. Because, somehow, despite all the shit you’ve endured, you are the most generous, forgiving person I know.” I kissed her hand. “You amaze me; everyday, Kourtney.
Every
day.”

“So it’s over? He’ll leave me alone?”

I nodded. “I think he got the message. But Joanne agrees; he tries to contact you again, it’s official. He only gets this one chance. Okay?”

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay.”

The next morning, I woke up alone. I sat up, confused, seeing the bathroom door open and no Kourtney. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was 5:30 a.m. Often by now we’d be out on our morning run. I looked at the closed bedroom door, and listened to the silence of the house and knew I was alone. Where was Kourtney? I looked over at my running clothes and noticed hers weren’t there beside them.

She wouldn’t.

Frowning, I threw back the covers and grabbed my stuff, pulling it on. I had made it to the hall when the door opened and Kourtney came in, pulling out her earplugs.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

“You went without me?” I snapped. “We hadn’t discussed you running alone again.”

She stepped forward and cupped my cheek. “Nathan, last night you slept through without a nightmare. You’re finally sleeping well, and I couldn’t bear to wake you. And it’s time to move on. Andy isn’t going to come after me while I run. No one is.”

“I don’t like you running alone.”

“I’ve been doing it for two years. I have my cell phone,” she stated. “I’m tired of letting him rule this part of my life. Or any part of it.”

“I like running with you.” I huffed, unable to let it go.

“Then you can come with me some days when you wake up. Other days I’ll go alone.” She tilted her head. “I like running alone, you know. It gives me time to think.”

“Am I crowding you, Kourtney?” I was fearful of her answer.

“No. But I need some space at times. Just like you do, I’m sure.”

“I’m upgrading your phone.”

She kissed my cheek. “Not needed. But if it makes you feel better, fine.”

“I’d also feel better if you’d stagger your run times.”

She sighed. “If I did that, you’d relax a little?”

I held her hand to my cheek, nuzzling it. “Yes.”

“Okay, then. I will.” She paused. “Nathan?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m driving myself to work again.”

Somehow this information didn’t surprise me. “Okay, Chefgirl.” I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. “Did you want me to, ah . . . ?” I swallowed again, the word “leave” too difficult to say.

I never got a chance to finish my thought.

Her eyes widened. “No! I don’t want that.”

I closed my eyes, hugging her.

“Good. I’m not ready yet,” I mumbled into her hair.

I don’t think I’ll ever be
, the voice in my head added.

We had a new routine now. Some mornings I got up and ran with Kourtney, and a few I didn’t. She was right; I was sleeping better with her beside me and often I was in such a deep sleep I didn’t even feel her get up. Some days, I managed to persuade her to stay in bed with me and she went for a run later. We drove to work in our own cars, although on occasion, I convinced her to let me drop her off so we could grocery shop together after I picked up her up at night. I didn’t tell her how much I missed those moments of quiet with her in the car every day, but I did.

For me, no day was complete now without her sweet kisses and tender caresses. The instant I was back in her company, I felt whole. I loved feeling her hands stroking my hair as we watched TV or her fingers working their way into a tight muscle when she gave me a massage to help me relax. Nothing pleased me more than hearing her laugh at one of my inane remarks or stories. The contentment that filled me when I saw her curled into her favorite corner of the sofa, knowing I could touch her anytime and be welcomed with her beautiful, warm gaze and smile, was as heartwarming as it was new.

Until this time with her, I hadn’t realized how shut-off I had been from any emotional feeling since I had been on my own. The thought of returning to that state of almost suspension made me shudder. I knew I could have moved back next door, yet neither of us made any move to bring up the subject. I still went back and forth with my stuff, but it seemed more and more of my things were finding a home here with Kourtney’s. I knew I’d found my home.