Still the One (36 page)

Megan:
Yeah. Gonna look at colleges on the way.

Another fist of longing hit Gracie’s gut. If it weren’t for Kirt or Dirk or Dork or whoever, she’d be doing stuff like that,
too.

Megan:
How are things with Katie and Zack?

Gracie:
OK, I guess.

Actually, Katie and Zack had turned out to be pretty cool. She liked them, and that made her feel kinda guilty. Sheesh—why
did everything have to be so complicated? Even good stuff made her feel bad.

Megan:
Are they still hooking up?

Gracie:
Yeah. Every night, except when he’s gone on business. They think I don’t know.

Megan:
Pretty funny.

Gracie:
Yeah. Grown-ups are so weird.

Dawn light filtered through the window of the garage apartment a week later. Katie moaned as Zack moved deep within her. He
showered her face with kisses, then buried his face against her neck, his breathing hot and labored.

Katie clutched his back, her legs wrapped around his. All of her senses converged like sunlight through a magnifying glass,
tapering and focusing to the feel of him inside her, filling her, thrilling her, pushing her higher. He thrust, then thrust
again, over and over, driving her onward, up and up and up until everything shattered in a brilliant, beautiful explosion
of emotion.

“I love you so much!”

The words burst out of her throat before she even knew she was thinking them. No, that wasn’t quite right; she’d been thinking
them for a few weeks now and feeling them for some time before that, but she hadn’t intended to say them.

Over the past month, she and Zack had grown increasingly close. He’d drastically cut back on his travel and was gone only
one or two nights a week instead of five or six. Katie’s feelings for him had reached the point that they’d just spilled out.

But that wasn’t a good thing, judging from the way Zack had gone perfectly still above her. Oh, dear heavens—she hoped she
hadn’t freaked him out.

They didn’t have a great track record where the L-word was concerned. She’d told him she loved him that summer, and he’d tried
to convince her that she didn’t.

He had a real aversion to those three little words. On more than one occasion and to more than one source, he’d said that
he didn’t believe in love. Katie didn’t believe he really didn’t believe, but she believed he believed that he didn’t believe.
One thing was for certain; she hadn’t intended to be the one to utter the loaded phrase first again.

“I love so much how you make me feel,” she said, hoping he’d think that’s what she’d meant a moment earlier. “I love your
body.”

He began to move again, and moments later, he found his own completion. She waited until his breathing slowed.

“I love being with you,” she said, still hoping to fix things. “I love making love to you. I love the feel of your skin on
mine.”

He pulled back and looked at her, his gaze inscrutable. She almost said the dreaded words again, but stopped herself in time.

“Kate.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “You talk way too much.”

“I thought you liked it when I talked during sex.”

“Only if you’re giving me instructions or saying something dirty.”

“Oh. I didn’t know there were parameters.”

“Yeah, well, now you do.” He planted a kiss on her lips and rolled off.

His tone was joking, but there was tension in the way he moved away from her, and he was wearing his poker face—the one where
she couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling.

Katie frowned, wondering if she should say something, then her gaze lit on the bedside clock. Six-twenty. Oh, no—Gracie’s
alarm went off at six-thirty!

She scooted out of bed and started scrambling for her clothes. “I’ve got to hurry, or Gracie will be up before I get back
to the main house.”

Normally Zack would grin and say something teasing, such as, “And she would keel over in shock, because you’re totally fooling
her,” or “Better hurry or she’ll ground you.” But today, he just said, “Okay,” then climbed out of bed and headed for the
bathroom.

Katie pulled on her pajamas and bathrobe. Ever since Gracie had started school, Katie had skipped the sneaking-back-to-her-room
part and gone directly to the kitchen to make Gracie breakfast. Hopefully Gracie thought she’d slept in her own bed and just
set her alarm early.

Katie grabbed the sash of her bathrobe and headed for the door. Saying “I love you” had freaked Zack out, all right.

Well, it was true. He might not want to hear it and she might not want to admit it, but she was in love with him. She was
beyond the following-her-heart-and-seeing-where-this-might-lead stage; she was completely, thoroughly, head-over-heels, wildly,
madly in love with him. And when she was in love, she was accustomed to saying it out loud.

But Zack wasn’t like Paul. Zack wasn’t comfortable with emotions.

A lump formed in Katie’s throat. Paul had wanted to fall in love, to get married, to settle down, to have a family.

Zack… didn’t. He had trouble with commitment. He had trouble articulating his feelings. Heck, he had trouble feeling his feelings.
But Katie thought—at least, she hoped—that he
did
have feelings for her.

She desperately hoped he did, because her feelings for him were deep-rooted, far-reaching, and long-ranging. She wanted a
future with him.

Before she was ready to address the future though, she needed to deal with the past. She glanced down at the diamond solitaire
and the gold band beneath it on her left hand and made a sudden decision.

It was time—way past time—to put Paul to rest.

Thirty minutes later, Katie sat at Dave’s kitchen table, her hand curled around a cup of coffee, her heart pounding at an
erratic pace.

“So what’s on your mind, dear?” Annette asked.

Katie drew a deep breath. “I think it’s time to put Paul to rest.”

They looked at each other. Dave cleared his throat. “We do, too, Katie. We have a cemetery plot, if you want a place to bury
him.”

So Annette and Dave had talked about this. They’d no doubt wondered what had taken her so long. A stab of pain shot through
her. “Paul didn’t want to be buried. He wanted his ashes scattered over the lake, off the old fishing pier.”

Annette looked at her in surprise. “He told you that?”

Katie nodded. “A week before he left for his first tour of duty.”

They’d gone for a moonlit walk along the lakefront and ended up at the end of the old pier where he’d proposed to her. “Did
you bring me here to give me another ring?” she’d teased.

“Sorry.” He gave her that lopsided grin she knew so well and loved so much. “Fresh out.”

“I can think of something else you can give me.” She took a step toward him. “A baby.”

He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. “We’ll go home and work on that. But first, we need to discuss something
serious.” The somberness in his eyes made her blood run cold. He moved his hands to her upper arms. “Katie—if something happens
to me over there…”

She shook her head, wanting to shake off the topic. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t, either. But we’ve got to.” He smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. “If something happens, I want you to scatter
my ashes here.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” She forced a smile. “Not until we get home, anyway. And then I intend to jump your bones.”

“Katie, you’ve got to hear me out.”

The icy lump in her throat made it hard to swallow, much less speak. Paul’s hands slid down her arms. “I hate the idea of
being buried. But the thought of being here, a part of the lake and the swamp and the sky, at my favorite fishing spot, the
spot where you agreed to marry me… well, that idea is kind of peaceful.” Maybe it was the three-quarter moon behind him, maybe
it was the sheen of tears clouding her vision, but for a moment, he’d looked like he had a halo glowing around him, as if
he were shimmering and disappearing, as if she were already losing him.

She was desperate to break the mood, to de-ice the fear freezing her soul. She gave him a wobbly smile, then raised her hand
in a snappy salute. “Message received, Captain. Your wishes have been duly noted and filed.”

“If it happens, don’t send me off with a lot of angst, Katie.” He looked into her eyes. “You know what I believe—life doesn’t
end with death. So promise me you’ll send me off with a peaceful heart.”

It took her a moment to find her voice. “How can I do that?”

“You’ll find a way. I just need to know, going over there, that if something happens, your life won’t end, too.” A cloud passed
in front of the moon. He pressed her fingers. “Promise me.”

The only way to end this horrid conversation was to tell him what he needed to hear. She swallowed, looked away from his shadowed
face, and said a word she didn’t mean. “Okay.”

“Okay.” His hands moved back up her arms. “I hereby declare this difficult conversation officially over.”

“Thank God.”

He smiled, kissed the top of her head, then looped his arm around her waist. “Now, about this bone-jumping you mentioned…”
They walked off the pier together.

Katie hadn’t been back to the pier since.

She looked at Annette and Dave now. “I promised I’d send him off without a lot of angst. I haven’t felt able to do that until
now.”

Annette rested her hand over Katie’s. “Well, then, honey, I think it’s time you kept your word.”

Katie’s eyes grew moist. “Would you two like to come with me?”

Dave looked at Annette. Annette nodded.

“Sure,” he said. “When?”

“Are you up to it now?” Katie wanted to do this before she lost her courage. “I can drive us right up to the pier, so you
won’t have any distance to walk.”

Dave nodded. “I’m up for it.”

Katie swallowed. “I have the urn in my car.”

Again, Dave looked to Annette.

The older woman nodded. “Let me get my purse.”

Zack entered the house around twelve-thirty. “Kate?”

He’d called her salon and learned she’d taken the afternoon off. Her car was in the drive, so he knew she was home. He searched
the downstairs, then headed up the staircase.

He hadn’t handled things well this morning. He couldn’t bring himself to say a lot of empty words—his parents used to ram
“I love yous” down his throat, then force him to parrot the phrase back—but he needed to let Katie know he cared.

Action was more his style, and everyone knew actions spoke louder than words. Working out of a coffee shop in Hammond, he’d
spent the morning on the phone and the computer, developing an action plan that would show Katie how much he cared. He’d combed
over his schedule, along with the schedules of his top three staff members, all with the intent of shifting a lot of his travel
responsibilities onto them.

His staff frequently accused him of micromanaging things—and hell, he did. Not because he didn’t trust them, but because novel
settings and situations, combined with an overload of work, kept him busy, and when he was busy, he didn’t notice the ever-expanding
emptiness inside him. He’d traded in poker for corporate risk management because he’d thought a new challenge would keep the
dark feelings and doubts at bay, the thoughts that surfaced in the middle of the night and circled like hungry sharks—thoughts
like
Nothing matters. Nothing lasts. Nothing has meaning.

Being around Katie and Gracie had started him thinking. Maybe he was going at things all wrong. Maybe there was another side
to life, a side he’d deliberately avoided. Maybe Katie was right about relationships and connections. Maybe he could even
move his headquarters lock, stock, and barrel to Chartreuse.

He might not be able to tell Katie the three little words she wanted to hear, but he could give her some concrete evidence
that he wanted to be with her and that he intended to stick around for the long term.

He got to the top of the stairs. “Kate?” he called again.

The door to her bedroom was open. He pushed through it and then jerked to a stop.

She was sitting on the floor of the closet, her back to the door. She wore a large man’s white dress shirt, the cuffs flopping
over her wrists, and she was clutching a gray T-shirt to her face. Earbuds in her ears were attached to an iPod. Several boxes
marked “Paul” were open around her.

He abruptly stepped back, feeling as if he’d been slapped. As if a big pitcher of cold water had been dumped on his head.
As if someone had punched him in the chest while kicking him in the kidneys, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.

Turning on his heel, Zack hurried down the stairs. His heart took the express elevator.

Damn it. Katie might be sharing his bed, but apparently her heart was still pining for Paul. Had she been fantasizing about
her husband while she was making love with him? Was that “I love you” meant for Paul?

His throat felt like he was wearing an overly tight tie. At the very least, Katie was conflicted. Maybe that explained why
she had tried so hard to cover up by saying she loved him. His fingers dug into his palm. He headed down the stairs and to
the kitchen, where he snatched his car keys off the counter, his stomach curling into a hard fist.

To hell with this. This was why he didn’t do emotion. This was exactly why he never let women get close. All that muck his
parents had rolled around in—anger and hurt and jealousy and blame—well, that was not for him. He didn’t do deep attachments,
not with Katie or anyone else. He was out of here as soon as Gracie had her baby and got her life settled.

That was the plan, and he seldom deviated from a plan, once he’d formed one.

Except, in this case, he’d been ready to change the plan.

He scrubbed his hand down his jaw as he stormed out to his car. Jesus, what a sap. He’d never thought he’d turn into one of
those touchy-feely guys. And yet, he never thought he could feel anything as deeply as what he felt for Katie.