Gold Page 22

  “Is she here?” I asked in what I hoped was an appropriately casual voice.

  Cate kicked off her shoes, toeing them out of the way under the kitchen table. “No, she’s at a sleepover.” Her teeth briefly found her lower lip before she added, “I thought it best.”

  Best because we’d possibly argue? A muscle in my cheek twitched and I responded with a quiet, “Oh. Does she know I’m here?”

  “She does.” Cate stared at me, her features softening.

  “Is she okay with it?”

  “Mhmm. She was really pleased when I told her you were back in Colorado.” Cate ducked her head, her eyebrows coming together. “When we left Australia I told her you might not come back to the States, just with the way your job is. I’m sorry, I thought a small lie was the best way to handle it.”

  “I understand.” Understanding didn’t make it any less painful.

  Cate moved around behind her kitchen counter, the space between us an ocean I couldn’t find a way to swim across. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “Sure, that’d be great, thanks. Anything’s fine.”

  Her stare was intense, but not challenging. “Don’t do that, Aspen. You don’t need to be accommodating, not here. Tell me exactly what you’d like.”

  What I’d like wasn’t a drink. What I’d like was to stop feeling that everything I said and did wasn’t quite right. Nodding slowly, I considered, until a facetious answer fell out of my mouth. “Okay…I’d love a Lagavulin sixteen-year-old scotch. With cold rocks, at a temperature of exactly thirty-one degrees. Thank you.”

  “You brat.” Cate grinned. “How’s a Laphroaig ten-year with ice instead of your extra special cold rocks?”

  “Fine, if I must slum it then I suppose that’ll do.” We both chuckled, and the ice between us cracked but didn’t quite break. As we caught each other’s eye, she was less guarded, more like the Cate I knew from thousands of miles away and millions of seconds ago.

  Her smile faded but didn’t completely disappear. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

  “I did, thank you. Hayley was stuck visiting her in-laws so it was just a quiet one at home.” I cleared my throat. “How about you guys?”

  “Crazy as usual with Dani, Mel, and the kids.”

  “How’re they all doing?” Though it wasn’t with quite the same intensity as I felt with Cate and Gemma, I’d still missed Cate’s friends.

  “Everyone’s great.” A shadow passed over her face and then disappeared almost as quickly as it’d arrived. When she looked up, her smile was fixed in place again. “Right. Drinks.”

  While she poured, I took in my surroundings. Their house was clean and comfortable—the kind of place where I could imagine them laughing and talking, and sharing triumphs and fears. A long shopping list was stuck to the fridge, alongside baby photos and a whole range of pictures of Cate and Gemma together. Vacations, parents and grandparents, dance recitals and graduations. A family.

  That feeling rose again, the same one I’d had when I’d seen her and Gem together the morning that Cate had first realized how screwed up my body could be. It was an intimate sort of comfort and I had a sudden feeling I might cry. Cate interrupted my study of her life, and my possible tears, by sliding a tumbler of scotch over to me. “You said you had a specialist appointment? How was it?”

  “Thanks.” I swallowed a small mouthful, enjoying the peaty burn through my nose. “It went well. We’ve got a plan, some options to look at, and he thinks a neurosurgeon might be able to help.”

  “How so?”

  “He thinks the weird absent leg sensation could be something like phantom limb syndrome or misfiring nerves. Because I seem to have unevenness even when the pain isn’t severe, it could be kind of like a remembered pain.” Good one, brain. As if the actual discomfort isn’t enough, you have to pretend it’s there when it isn’t.

  Cate nodded. “Interesting. That makes sense.”

  “Mhmm. But we’re trying to fix one issue at a time. We might also try stem cells for the arthritis in my ankles. It’s probably too late, but it’s not going to do any harm.” Staring into her clear, blue-gray eyes I was suddenly aware that her questioning me about my ruined body had aroused no annoyance or discomfort. Rather I wanted to tell her, to show her that I’d changed. I set my glass down. “In the meantime, he’s changed my nerve pain medication and tweaked my OTC regime.”

  “OTC regime?”

  “After you left,” I said. “I started a pain management program.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “That sounds promising. Is it working?”

  “The stuff I was taking in Australia seemed to be. I think it’s too early to tell with the new meds, but it seems okay.” I made myself smile. “I don’t look so much like a grandma getting out of bed in the mornings now.”

  “I’m pleased for you,” she said softly. After a long beat she looked up, blinking quickly. “I should start dinner. Or we can order in?”

  “Whatever you want, Cate. Truthfully, I’m not very hungry.” With a smile I admitted, “I was kind of nervous about seeing you.”

  “Me too.” She stretched up, pulled the bottle of scotch down again and poured another half inch into each of our glasses. “Why don’t we sit and talk, and we can think about dinner later.”

  We settled at opposite ends of Cate’s couch, and the distance between us felt less like an ocean and more like a stream I could jump. She folded her legs underneath herself, squirming to get comfortable. “You said you’re back for a while?”

  I turned slightly so I was facing her and crossed an ankle over my knee. “Yeah, I’ve got a permanent coaching job. She’s got real Olympic and World Cup potential, so I should be home for at least four years.”

  “Why did you take it?” Cate probed. “Why not keep going as you were, coaching at ski schools?”

  “It didn’t feel like the right thing anymore.” I leaned forward to place my rock crystal glass on her glass-topped coffee table. “The running and hiding. All that stuff you accused me of.”

  “Aspen—”

  “Please, I just need to say this.” Pausing, I waited for her nod of assent. She deserved to be told the truth, but more than that, I needed to get it out. “I was upset, Cate, about what you did. Devastated, really. But I should thank you.”

  “Why?” she asked, her voice hoarse and barely audible.

  “You started it. This…coming back to myself I guess you could call it?”

  She shook her head, the confusion evident on her face and I wanted to reach out and slide my thumb over her eyebrows, to smooth out the crease between them.

  But I kept my hands to myself. “I didn’t want to accept it back in Australia, but everything you said was right, about punishing myself by allowing the pain. I’ve been running away for so long that I’d accepted the new me when I should have been trying harder to get back to the old me.” I raised a hand, palm up. “You made me realize it was time to be kinder to myself, to let certain things go. Unless I did that, I couldn’t expect the next person to be kind to me and to accept me.”

  “How’re you doing with that?” she asked in a high, tight voice.

  I smiled. “Good days and bad days, but the good days are winning.” Swallowing, I couldn’t help but add, “Honestly, most of my bad days are when I think about what you said. And what you did.”

  Cate grimaced. “I’m so sorry. Truly I am.”

  “I believe you. It’s just very difficult to accept that you’re not the person you thought you were. I’ve had to totally change the way I look at pretty much everything.” I dropped my gaze to the couch, trying to calm my turbulence. Then I reached out and offered something to her, hoping she’d take it. “But I still want all the things I did before. I still want us.”

  When Cate spoke, her voice was soft and resigned. “It’s great to want something in theory, but sometimes the practical isn’t so fun. What happens when Gemma’s needs come before something you want? When we can’t take a vacation b
ecause she’s got a debate she can’t bear to miss. You know, she hates throwing up and whenever she feels sick, she still crawls into bed with me. Not very sexy.”

  “Do you really think any of those things bother me? They don’t. Cate, you’re cutting me off at the knees before even giving me the chance to stand up.” I smiled wryly, desperate for some levity. “Okay, I know my legs are problematic, but it’s a little extreme.”

  She tucked that wayward strand of her hair back again, the gesture so familiar at such a foreign time that I couldn’t help but be unbalanced by it. Cate bit her lip. “This is new for me, please understand that. Ever since we met, you’ve been blasting through everything I thought I knew, trying to sweep both of us up and frankly, it’s terrifying.”

  I clenched my jaw. “It’s terrifying for me too. Don’t you see how much I’d hate to lose this possibility? Again?” During my rant, my annoyance had risen and now I gestured forcefully, trying to emphasize my point. “I can’t keep going around and around like this, it’s too confusing and too upsetting.”

  Cate slid backward on the couch, eyes widening, and I had a sudden sick feeling that I knew why. I dropped my hands immediately. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I didn’t…Cate, I’d never. I swear.”

  “I know,” she whispered, but her arms were crossed protectively.

  There was a dull ache in my chest, right under my sternum, and I had to blink away tears that’d formed when I thought of what this other woman may have done to her. What it would have taken for Cate to open herself up and trust me. And I’d threatened her with my unconscious aggression.

  Sagging back against the couch I raised my arm again, palm up, in offering. She looked down, teeth worrying her lower lip, then slowly her eyes came back up to meet mine. After a long, silent moment Cate moved forward, put her hand in mine and I could breathe again.

  I didn’t try to pull her toward me. Instead, I sat still, caressing her skin with my thumb. “I can go, if you want me to.”

  She shook her head. “No, stay.”

  “Okay.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, willing the tension to ease. “Cate, please trust me when I tell you I want this. I want to be with you and all I can give you is my word until you let me prove it.”

  “I’m scared,” she admitted in a husky whisper.

  “So am I.” I drew in a slow, shaky breath. “But the only way I can show you how much I want to be in your life is if you’ll let me in. And the same for you.”

  “I’m scared,” she repeated, her eyes bright with tears. “…that we’re going to be nothing but lead weights around your ankles.”

  Slowly I moved closer, afraid if I moved too quickly she’d startle like a wild animal. “Don’t you see? You’re the thing that’s going to make me fly.”

  Her other hand tentatively bridged the gap between us and I took it immediately, my thumb stroking the skin on her knuckles. Her hands were warm and so comforting that a little of the knot in my stomach eased. She squeezed my hands then relaxed her grip but didn’t let go. “I just thought it was the best thing for you. But I never stopped wanting, or missing you, Aspen, even when I was trying so hard to forget so you could move on. I only wanted you to be whole again, and I thought you deserved so much more than what I could offer.”

  My throat felt tight, mouth dry like I wouldn’t be able to speak. I could hardly believe what I felt she was implying. “More? Cate, you’re more. You and your daughter, your friends and family.” I swallowed, clearing the gravel from my throat. “Maybe I should have been clearer.”

  “You were,” she said softly.

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Why, then? I realize now that I kind of misrepresented myself but it wasn’t malicious. I really thought I was ready for commitment.”

  “I know you were, Aspen. Know you are.”

  “What then?” Everything felt so circular that I couldn’t grasp what she was saying, couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. “Was I too desperate?” I mumbled.

  “No.” She sighed, then drew in a long breath as though drawing in the strength to continue. “I come with baggage, Aspen, and a teenage daughter.”

  “I come with baggage and crappy legs,” I countered. “Everyone has some sort of baggage.”

  “True. But you’re just starting your life, really. I’m there and I’m kind of set in my ways with my child. There won’t be any discovery with us. No excitement of planning a family together or anything like that. You’ve got no choice but to accept what I have, exactly as it is. And that’s not fair.” Cate stared at our joined hands, at my thumbs still stroking her skin. “That’s what made me decide I didn’t want you to waste your life on us, that it was selfish of me to saddle you with me and Gem. You’d end up hating us.”

  I almost couldn’t believe this strange and warped conclusion she’d jumped to. “Never,” I whispered.

  She raised her shoulder fractionally in a defeated kind of shrug. “It’s easier to believe that than the alternative.”

  “Which is?” My heart thundered in my chest, the rapid beat bringing a sick kind of dread with it.

  “That you meant every word. That underneath all the other stuff, you’re exactly who I thought you were all that time. I don’t trust easily and I was surprised and frightened by how easy you made it.”

  “Everything I gave you was real, Cate. All of it. Why didn’t you say something back then?”

  “Because I didn’t have any right to ask that of you, not after only three weeks.”

  I laughed. “Three weeks? After three weeks you’d filled me so completely that all I could think of were dreams and possibilities.” I drew a shallow breath and took a chance, reaching to brush my thumb over her lips. They were as soft as I remembered, warm and inviting. “I told you, I still want this,” I murmured.

  She didn’t move away. I let my hand drop away from her face, not quite sure that I could stop myself if I kept touching her. Cate raised her chin, a silent invitation, and when she didn’t move away I kissed her. Gently at first, until she flung herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her tongue parted my lips, surprising me with the ferocity of her kiss and I fell backward against the arm of the couch. Cate straddled me, arching into me with her breasts pressed hard against mine, the desperation evident in the way her hands came to my neck, frantically grasping the short hair at my nape. She ground herself hard into my lap, making her needs very clear.

  Nothing else mattered. Not the months of uncertainty, the fear and doubt. The only thing was us and this. Her lips were hot on mine, her tongue teasing at my lips as she worked at the buttons of my shirt. When she broke the kiss to suck in a desperate breath, I moved my mouth to her neck, biting gently, feeling her pulse beating hard under my lips.

  Cate’s breath was hot on my ear. “I’ve missed this so much.” When she grazed my earlobe with her teeth, I groaned. When she bit my neck I lost all restraint, hooked my hands under her glorious ass and stood, lifting her with me.

  Cate wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as our lips met again with furious desire, tongues meeting in a dance only we knew the steps to. It was a dance I thought I’d forgotten, but as seconds ticked by I remembered the steps all too well.

  “Bedroom,” she demanded, hoarse and needy. Cate loosened her hold on me and dropped to the floor. She grabbed my arm, pulling me along.

  The loss of contact, the coolness of the space between us snapped my brain out of its lust-addled state and back into reason. “Wait, Cate. Stop.”

  She spun quickly and molded herself to me again, kissing me hungrily. “Right here?” she murmured, licking my lower lip. Fingers released the last of the buttons on my shirt and parted it to bare my stomach. Cate sucked the swell of breast above my bra as her hands strayed downward to my pants.

  My pulse beat steadily in my clit and it took every ounce of willpower not to pull her to the floor and have her. But the small twinge of reason permeated my fog of lust, reminding me ex
actly why this wasn’t a good idea. “I can’t,” I choked out, turning my head away. “God I want to, but I can’t.”

  Cate’s fingers paused at my belt buckle. “Why not?”

  I reached down and gently disengaged her hands, clasping them in mine. “Because up until a few days ago, I thought you hated me. I don’t think jumping into bed right now is a good idea.”

  Cate sagged against the wall, her hand coming to her chest. She took a few shaky breaths. “I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been totally fair. I’ve missed you and I just…lost my head for a minute there. I haven’t given you much time to think about things.”

  “I’ve had plenty of time to think, and I know this isn’t how I want it to be.”

  “How exactly do you want it then?”

  “I want you, Cate. All of you, not just a casual screw here and there.”

  “I don’t th—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes fluttering closed. She drew a hand over her face and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again they were clear. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. I could see it in her eyes, they almost begged me to say yes, to say I’d choose her and everything she had to offer me.

  Tilting her chin up, I kissed her softly. “Never surer.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hayley was trying hard not to show it, but the incredulity seeped out. “So, what? You’re just seeing her now, and everything’s forgiven and forgotten?”

  “No, it’s not forgotten. We talked pretty much all night and cleared things up.” Mostly. Even after hours of conversation, the connection between Cate and me was fragile, but I hoped with time, effort, and patience from both of us, it would strengthen. “Seriously, what’s the point of staying angry and upset? It’s only going to undermine everything if we want to move forward.” And our foundations were shaky enough.

  She grunted, the sound a mix of exasperation and resignation. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “I don’t really. But I can’t just turn my feelings off. Sometimes people do things that don’t make sense.” Like me. All the time. I cradled the phone against my shoulder, pulling on a fresh pair of ski pants. I’d already spent the morning training with Stace and had rushed home to shower and change before my guests arrived. “I like her, Hayls. I like her daughter. Why wouldn’t I take this opportunity?”