Reservation (Preservation Series) (18 page)

“Okay, will you text me at least?”

“Yeah, sure. I love you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Damn, this distance was fucking annoying. The likelihood of me making it until June without Kate under the same roof was looking less and less promising. And there was something in her voice. A hesitancy I wasn’t used to hearing. Not from Kate. Even when she was unsure of something, she made sure I knew exactly why she felt that way. Her communication was always straightforward, even when the message was subtle. Clarity was something I could count on with Kate. All the more reason this not-calling-me business and the brushing me off was leaving me restless. Out of my element.

Out of control.

It took me about two minutes to shake some sense into myself. The woman had a life. A job. Friends and co-workers on the other side of the world. Shit to do. She loved me. I knew this. But right now, she couldn’t be near me, and I had to fucking man up.

I stood up from the sofa and strode into the bathroom for a hot shower and some fresh clothes. I was probably crazy for wanting to go back out tonight, but I needed to get some of my own errands done before I picked Kate up Friday morning. I couldn’t walk in the street like a normal person anymore. Not for long, anyway. It had been ages since I’d caught a show at Easy Street Records or just browsed albums, for that matter. The restrictions on my freedom were becoming more and more suffocating, but there was no sense in focusing on those pitfalls anymore. They were here to stay, shit had to get done, and I wasn’t about to hire someone to start handling simple errands like food shopping and post office runs for me. I wouldn’t let the media have that power, as much as their invasion ate at me.

After a hot shower, I pulled on my dark grey beanie hat, tugging it low over my forehead and ears, then grabbed my leather jacket and took off for the market. I didn’t bother shaving, figuring maybe now would be a good time to let my stubble grow out a bit to throw off the photographers. My next photo shoot wasn’t for weeks, and as far as I knew, Danny and Neda didn’t give a damn if I had a beard or not at any of my upcoming events. So, shaving be damned, because even the pettiest disguise would be useful to me right now.

I spent the rest of the night picking up groceries, then came home and cleaned the apartment before heading over to Kate’s apartment to clean hers too, happy to get my mind off my troubles by doing something productive. I wasn’t sure how late it was when I finally gave in to sleep, but I woke up to find myself passed out on her couch with a feather duster on my chest, one shoe still on, and one leg hanging over the coffee table.

Good God, was this my future? Hiding away like a hermit from the paparazzi, dusting my sorrows away until my girl came home from work? Of course it wasn’t, but the thought still made me shudder. I tossed the duster on the coffee table, sat up, stretched, and began the day.

Friday finally rolled around, and by the time I pulled up at SeaTac to pick up Kate at the crack of dawn, I’d had some time to process losing my teaching job and all that it entailed, but it did nothing for the unease that had been brewing since our phone conversation the other night. I needed to talk to her, to look her in the eye, and make sure she was still with me, now more than ever.

“I missed you,” she said, letting me squeeze her tight on the sidewalk. “Remind me to never take another red eye. I’m beat. I need a strong black coffee, stat.” I breathed her in, tasted the soft skin of her neck and gently bit down before pulling back to look her in the eye. “Coffee, then house hunting?”

“Coffee, then house hunting,” I confirmed, turning to throw her bags in the trunk. I rarely used my dad’s old Mustang, always relying on public transport to get around. It usually sat collecting dust in my building’s parking garage. But it came in handy for days like this, when I had errands to run outside of the city. It also helped me avoid the paparazzi, giving me a little more privacy. Kate seemed to appreciate it, too. After filling her in on what went down with my teaching job, we spent all morning cruising around suburbs, meeting with a realtor, and discussing the home of our dreams. Just being in Kate’s presence made dealing with the blow easier.

“Screw them,” she said, her energy and mood much improved since her large cup of caffeine. She was wide and alert now, looking as if she could run a marathon. “The university did you a favor, Ryan. The people who love you know you, and that’s all that matters.” She reached over the console and took my hand. “Don’t beat yourself up over the reputation you left behind. You owned up to it all and tried to turn it around while you had the chance. I’ve seen you do a 180 at that place since I’ve been with you. You did what you could. What people remember you for is all out of your control, so let it go.”

“Can I just pull over, strip you down, and worship you right here?”

A mischievous smile tugged her lips. “You’re in the driver’s seat, Mr. Campbell. I’m at your mercy.” The prospect was tempting, but I knew we had to get back to the city. Kate had been dying to see Carter and Dean, and I was sure she’d appreciate spending a few extra hours with them before she had to meet Bob Hall for drinks that night.

When noon rolled around and I was sure we were ready to head back to the city, Kate gestured for me to skip the next exit and stay North on I-5.

“Keep going,” she said. “I don’t have to meet Bob until tonight. Let’s go out to the San Juans. We can look around and have dinner before we head back. As long as we catch the ferry on time, we should be okay.”

“The San Juans? You want to look for places on the islands? Aren’t you exhausted? You’ve barely had any sleep.” I knew she loved it there. Hell, I did, too. I’d move there in a heartbeat. But it was far from the city life we’d been accustomed to, and this shift in direction surprised me.

“Why not? Don’t you ever get tired of the city? And I’m fine now that I’ve had some coffee. If I get tired, I’ll just take a nap while you drive.”

“I get tired of it all the time.” I gripped the steering wheel. Now wasn’t the time to tell her that Jamie and I had been looking at places in the mountains, far from the city. Then again, there probably wasn’t ever a good time for that conversation. Not that it would matter. She knew we were engaged, and looking at places to live was nothing shocking for soon-to-be newlyweds. But what I wanted with Kate and what I had wanted at one point in time with Jamie were two entirely different things, and it was paramount that Kate knew that. “Truth is, I was only looking at those suburbs because I was under the assumption you’d want to stay close to the city. When we looked at places on-line last weekend, you seemed pretty content with the idea.”

“I was. I am. I mean, I’ll be happy wherever we are. I love the city. It’s great for my writing, and I’m so comfortable there. But I feel like I can breathe on the islands. And Seattle’s not far. We can still go there whenever we want. What do you think?” She turned in the passenger seat, tucking one leg up under the other, her black hair blowing frantically in the wind. She looked so wild. Free.

My Kate.

The sight momentarily mesmerized me, and then I remembered I had to look at the road. “I say hell yes, then, baby. Let’s do it.” My foot hit the gas and we barreled down the interstate, blasting Elbow’s “Grounds for Divorce.” In between shameless sing-along sessions and the occasional pit stop for more coffee and snacks, we talked about everything and anything, and it felt so fucking good, I wanted to scream and say to hell with everything. The fame, the hype, the crazy rules binder Danny had assigned me—all of it could take a flying leap for all I cared. Here was nothing but normal conversation—well, as normal as conversation between me and Kate could get—and an afternoon road trip with my girl, and I was loving every second of it.

We arrived on Orcas Island and hustled to check out as many places as we could in the span of a few short hours. A small cliff-side cabin caught our interest right away, nestled deep in thick clusters of pine and madrona trees, with an unbelievable view of the water. It was every bit as secluded as I’d envisioned my dream home to be, and Kate was instantly taken with its access to Eastsound Village. It was perfect—small and modest, nothing flashy about it. The realtor let us in and then stepped outside to give us some privacy.

“That will be my writing nook, right there,” Kate said with a smile, holding her hands up to form the shape of a camera lens. She pretended to focus on the corner view, which consisted of a rustic writing desk and two glass windows overlooking the cliff drop, then made a snapping sound.

“And what about me, lady?” I shuffled up behind her and wrapped my arms tight over her torso, resting my chin on her shoulder. “Where will I write?”

“You can have the dog house.”

I bit her neck. “That won’t do, my little smartass. Nope, won’t do at all.”

“Well, I guess I could be generous and give you the basement—oh, wait! No basement in a house like this. Sorry, looks like you’re screwed.” She shifted her head to peer up at me and peck me on the forehead, that playful smirk still pulling at her lips.

“
Hhhmmm
, we’ll have to see about those arrangements, Ms. Parker.” Spinning her around, I cupped her cheeks in my palms and stared down at her, searching those chocolate eyes. “On another note, how do you feel about kids? It’s something we haven’t discussed.”

“Honestly?” She held my stare, her expression turning earnest.

“Honestly.”

“I don’t want any.”

My stomach flipped with a mixture of relief and ecstatic joy. Kids were great, but I didn’t want my own. And while I couldn’t change that for Kate, no matter how much I loved her, I was dreading the idea of breaking her heart someday if she wanted them and I didn’t. “Really? No desire?”

“Zero. You?”

“Zero.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why, did you peg me as the type that wanted to be a dad?” There were many things I would think one would peg me as. A dad was not one of them.

“No. I think you’d make a great dad, actually. You have the whole package.”

“The whole package?” I laughed, loosening my grip on her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “You’re playful, compassionate, protective...you’d be a great father.”

“You’d be a great mom.”

“Maybe.” Another shrug. She glanced down and picked up her necklace pendants—the globe I’d given her and her late mentor’s rabbit pendant—and smiled. “But this is my path, my purpose in life. To write, to travel, to share...my words and experiences are my children. They’re what I’m meant to nurture.”

I didn’t think it was possible to love her any fucking more than I did right at that moment. I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers. “You’re one hell of a mother,” I whispered, my arms curling around her lower back.

“I adore you,” she whispered back, leaning up on her tiptoes to lift her mouth to mine. She pressed down in a firm, sweet kiss that almost made my knees buckle. She quickly broke the contact and landed back on the heels of her feet, her smile drifting into sad territory. I didn’t like it.

“Why the pout?” I rolled my thumb over her lip.

“It’s nothing. We should get going if we want to catch the ferry.”

“Okay,” I said, but I felt far from okay. I watched her glance out the windows once more before striding toward the front door, and that same ball of unease that began to fester when I’d last spoken to her on the phone unrolled and stretched, reminding me it was still simmering low in my gut.

***

Kate was quiet the whole way home. She was miles away, leaving me feeling like she’d already returned to St. Lucia. I kept quiet myself, making no effort to mention the noticeable distance she’d placed between us. Whatever was on her mind would surface eventually, and I’d be ready when the time came. We got home in time for her to change and meet Bob to talk business, and she turned in the second she came home from her meeting, exhausted from the jetlag and day’s events.

Crystal picked her up the next morning to cart her to the bridal shop for some dress shopping, but I knew that picking out a dress was the farthest thing from her mind. She was itching to speak to Carter alone, but she’d have to wait until later that afternoon, when Crystal and Dean left them to it. I showed up at the shop after running some morning errands, unable to stay away.

“The groom isn’t supposed to be here,” Dean whispered, holding the dressing room entry curtain shut as I approached. “Tradition, man! Tradition!” I crossed my arms and cocked a brow, amused and a bit concerned for Crystal. This dude had spent more time with Carter than was good for him, and the fact that he was here, in a bridal boutique, shopping with Kate and Crystal for a dress...well, it may have been time for Crystal to install that gay-dar device everyone had been telling her about.

I adjusted my Ray-Bans, shushing Dean to keep his voice down. The last thing I needed was to draw attention and cause a media shit storm to descend on Kate’s day. “Hey, Pretty Woman,” I said to him while pulling down my beanie hat. “Will you get out of that damn dressing room already? All you’re missing right now is a tutu and a pair of heels. Do I need to get your girl out here to straighten you out?”

“Hey! Your sarcasm is not welcome here!” He stuck his head farther out of the curtain, bunching the material around his cheeks. I swear, I wish I had one of those sledgehammer bopper things that you see at carnival games so I could bonk him over the head with it and win some cash. I deserved it for being subjected to his lunacy. “This is Kate’s special day, and if you’re here to pester her, you can forget it, chap.”