by Lucy Score
“What are you and Gan going to do when Gabby hits the teenage years?” Cat asked, a half-smile at the thought of her brother with a teenage daughter.
“Move to an uninhabited island?” Paige joked.
“Ha. But seriously?” Paige was a fierce feminist, and there was no way she didn’t have a color-coded binder with life lessons according to developmental stage.
“I want Gabby to grow up knowing what she does with her body is ultimately her choice, and I want her to make smart choices and have the unalienable right to say no.”
“So, you have no idea,” Cat supplied.
“None at all. I’m hoping to keep her a toddler for the next decade until I can figure it out.”
Cat laughed and bumped Paige’s shoulder. “You and Gannon will be just fine.”
“And you and Noah could be more than fine if you let it happen,” Paige said pointedly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I say this with love. I think you’re looking for an out because your feelings for Noah and your spectacular casual sex are bigger than you expected.”
Cat scoffed even as the bells inside her head began ringing a warning. Ding ding ding.
“Agree to disagree,” she said. “Now, that the venting is over with. Let’s figure out how to film this reveal.”
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Cat smiled and delivered charming lines on command for the cameras for the rest of the day as Drake was mercilessly flirted with by the enigmatic Mrs. Pringle. For a grandmotherly figure in a wheelchair, the woman had some serious cougar running through her veins.
Drake, blushing constantly, didn’t seem to mind the attention. Cat’s instincts had been correct. Putting him on camera with the flirtatious Mrs. Pringle equaled TV ratings gold. They were adorable, and when Drake revealed the secret updates they’d done to make the woman’s kitchen more wheelchair friendly, she’d kissed him on the mouth. Cat was pretty sure Mrs. Pringle had slipped her co-star the tongue, too.
Filming kept her out of her head where she wanted to wallow. Was Paige right? Cat wondered, turning it over in her head as she climbed into the makeup trailer to freshen up her face. Was she looking for an out with Noah? Sex with him couldn’t even be classified as mere sex. Her extensive experience in that particular area informed her that there was something much bigger at stake every time he put his hands on her.
She’d never felt so consumed, so connected. When Noah was inside her, they were one. Not just two healthy adults having fun. He was stealing pieces of her soul, and she was letting him.
It was terrifying.
Cat flopped down in the makeup chair and frowned at her appearance. She looked tired. Ragged. Not like the glowing TV personality she was required to be.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not now. Not within striking distance of the highest ratings for a holiday special the network had ever seen. Not with her school being this close to becoming a reality. She was used to a million miles an hour. Used to being home less than she was on the road. Used to finding a new adventure around every corner.
“You look tired,” Drake made the announcement as Sylvie, the makeup artist, attacked the circles under Cat’s eyes for the second time in two hours. Drake looked annoyingly handsome in flannel. His hair styled with one careless shove of his hand.
“Gee, thanks. You look chubby and balding,” Cat shot back.
Drake ran a hand over his washboard abs. “Are you hangry? Because if you are, I can share my special paleo salted caramel brownies from Mrs. Pringle. I’d prefer not to, but I’m willing.” He shook the plastic wrapped chocolate in her face.
Cat gave him a tired smile. “Sorry for biting your head off. I’m not hungry.”
“You don’t have to do everything alone you know,” Drake pointed out, dropping the paper plate of brownies on the makeup table.
Cat opened one eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, sliding right back into irritated.
“You’re trying to juggle thirty-six full-time jobs,” Drake pointed out, biting into one of said brownies. “You’re not getting enough sleep. You’re getting pissy. You’re spacing out.” He counted off the list of offenses on brownie-colored fingers.
“Okay! Okay! I get it. I’m a broody asshole.”
“You could make things a lot easier on yourself by leaning just a little. You don’t have to shoot every single scene. You don’t have to coordinate every day’s shooting schedule. You don’t have to single-handedly build your school brick by brick.”
Cat yawned despite herself. She was fucking exhausted.
“I get what you’re saying, but it’s just faster if I do it myself.”
“To a point. Then there’s the point where you end up suffering ‘dehydration and exhaustion.’” Drake added air quotes. Dehydration and exhaustion were the industry’s pretty code words for breakdowns and overdoses.
“I’m not going to crash,” Cat insisted carefully. Sylvie was lining her lips again, and she couldn’t move them.
“You’ve got Paige and me and Gannon and Henry, hell, even Noah. We’re a team. Use us,” Drake said.
She opened her mouth to argue with him. Noah was not a teammate. But Drake was faster than her denial and stuffed a tiny corner of delicious dessert past her lips.
“Eat your chocolate and stop thinking you can’t rely on us.” Drake sauntered off, leaving every female in a ten-yard radius staring after him.
Reflexively Cat checked her phone. Only she wasn’t looking at Instagram or her blog or Facebook. She was checking to see if Noah had texted her. He had a half-dozen times after she left his house. He’d also called twice. But she’d ignored them all. She didn’t want an apology from a man who didn’t know what he was apologizing for.
It looked as though he’d gotten the message. There were no texts or missed calls from Noah.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Noah swore and sucked his smarting thumb into his mouth.
“Come on, Yates. I expect that from Jasper, not you. I don’t need to be babysitting two unhandymen,” Gannon joked between short bursts of the nail gun that he didn’t trust either of them to run.
Noah couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up here. The woman who’d brought him to a shattering orgasm had skipped out on him without an explanation, and now he was working ten feet off the ground trying not to break his thumb with a hammer as he “helped” his apparently ex-lover’s twin brother and Jasper add the finishing touches to a treehouse.
He’d given up trying to understand and just went with it.
Sara had questioned him about his morose attitude when she’d gotten home from her weekend at her mother’s. He’d been at a loss there, too. So, he’d lied. She’d given him the same look Mellody used to give him when he wasn’t articulating his feelings. Then she’d sighed heavily and said, “Okay. If you want to talk to me about it, I’m here for you.”
When had his daughter turned into an adult?
He hung the framed picture of Sara and April from first grade, arms around each other at a school picnic and grinning in little girl delight, on the wooden post. Why couldn’t things just stay the same? Why did everything have to change and get so complicated? Why wouldn’t Cat talk to him?
“Hey, if you’re done moping over there, you can help Jasper paint the trim,” Gannon said, pointing at the spare paint brush.
Noah crossed to the paint can and stared blankly at the brush.
“I know that look,” Jasper said, wisely. “It’s a woman. I get that deer-in-headlights look when Kathy’s mad.”
“Definitely not talking about women,” Gannon insisted. “We’re just working on a treehouse, not talking about my sister.”
“Well, since you brought her up…”
Gannon, on his knees on the floor, hung his head. “Please don’t make me do this, Yates. I’m begging you, man.”
Noah glanced at the nail gun in Gannon’s h
and. “Uh, maybe you want to put that down?” he suggested.
Gannon rolled his eyes heavenward and closed them as if he were praying for patience. “Paige texted and said you and Cat are fighting.” He sounded as if he’d rather be discussing women’s menstrual cycles.
Noah would too.
“Is it fighting if she’s freezing me out?” he asked.
Gannon swore under his breath. “Listen man, I’m her brother, and I barely understand her.”
“So, what do I do? Just let it go? Let her just walk half-naked out of my house and never talk to her again.”
“For fuck’s sake, man! That’s my sister!” Gannon looked a little green.
“Sorry. I’m just…” He was tied up in a million fucking knots. Cat took him by the hand and dragged him to heaven in bed and then acted like he’d punched a pony in the face.
“Women,” Jasper said, with a shake of his head. “I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but Kathy and I’ve been married fourteen years, and I still have no idea what goes on in her head.”
Noah dipped the brush in the paint and slapped it against the window trim.
“Just try talking to her, okay? Leave the rest of us out of it and go talk to her,” Gannon pleaded.
“I’ve tried! She won’t return calls. She’s ignoring my texts.”
Gannon muttered something about the things he did for his wife under his breath. “Look, Noah. You seem like a nice guy. If you want to pursue something with Cat, pursue it. Make her give you a firm no if that’s not what she wants. And then don’t talk to me about it ever again.”
“It seems like the only time she wants to talk is after—”
“Shut the fuck up, Yates! Are you trying to get me to throw you through the window?”
“Dude,” Jasper whispered on Noah’s left. “Don’t poke the bear, man.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just… stupid and confused.”
“Look, just talk to this woman who I’m pretending is not my twin sister. Okay? Do us all a favor and lock her in a closet until she talks. And then don’t give me a status update.”
“Got it. Okay. Thanks,” Noah bobbed his head. Talk to her. He could do that. Somehow. Merry wasn’t that big. She couldn’t hide from him forever.
“Great. Awesome. Now, can we please finish this goddamn treehouse before filming?” Gannon demanded.
Noah dipped the paint brush back in the can feeling marginally more hopeful.
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That evening, covered in paint and nursing a few splinters, Noah wandered toward home. His shoulders hunched against the cold. He’d grown up here, so Merry’s icy winters were nothing new. But when he felt cold on the inside, no number of thermal layers could warm him up.
It was ridiculous. He was an adult, damn it. And so was Cat. He’d just go talk to her, clear the air.
He spun around and headed in the opposite direction. He’d just knock on Cat’s door and very calmly explain to her… something.
He was still working it out in his head when he spotted her ducking out of a production van and heading into Trailer Town. She saw him, and they eyed each other across the expanse of asphalt for a moment before she jerked her head toward an empty box truck next to the RVs.
Her face was unreadable. But Noah was committed. He climbed into the cab on the passenger side as she slid in behind the wheel on the opposite side. They closed their doors and then there was silence. The cab light slowly dimmed. It smelled like stale cigarettes and dust inside.
“You hurt my feelings,” she announced without preamble.
All his prepared explanations vanished. “I’m sorry, Cat. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
She cut him off. “Yeah. I know. I’m not really here for an apology. The point is, I let you hurt my feelings. I thought you were slut-shaming me by not wanting Sara to know about me.”
Noah’s open mouth closed with a snap. “Huh?” he managed.
“I realize that probably wasn’t the message you were trying to send me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good. Okay then.” She nodded briskly. All business.
“Is there anything else you want to say?” he prodded, seeing the indecision in her eyes.
She took a breath. “I only do casual because, well, because it fits my schedule, my life. You make me wonder if maybe that’s not all I want. With you. And I’m not really ready to consider that possibility. Because it can’t be. I’m not staying here, and I don’t know when I’m going to be ready to find a permanent home and stay put. I literally don’t know where I’ll be living next year. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to wait for me to figure out when I’d like to settle down.”
He nodded and then, at a loss for words, kept on nodding.
“Anyway, I get that you’re not comfortable with Sara knowing about us. I’m not a parent. You are. I get the need for secrecy. So… that’s it.”
She leaned toward him, pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth, and turned to open her door.
Noah thanked his reflexes for being faster than his wits. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her back across the bench seat. The kiss he gave her was anything but chaste, reminding them both of what was at stake. The heat, that glorious burst of flames that leapt to life when her lips moved hungrily under his, was all they needed to know.
He pulled back and searched her face, those swollen lips, her half-closed hazel eyes. “Tell me what you want now. What can we have now?”
“Fun,” she suggested. “Let’s just have fun. I like it. You need it. Everyone wins.”
“Fun?” he repeated.
She gave him a little smile. “Don’t look at me like I’m speaking Russian. Fun. Naked fun.”
“And will we be having this naked fun with anyone else?” he pressed.
Her eyes widened, sparking with annoyance. “No! Exclusive fun only for both of us.”
“I’m fine with exclusive naked fun,” Noah said, threading his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes.
“And it can be secret exclusive naked fun,” Cat offered. “That way you don’t have to start a safe casual sex conversation with Sara.”
“I’d be eternally grateful for being able to put off that conversation for as long as possible,” Noah admitted.
“And think of it this way,” Cat added cheerfully. “I’ll ease you into a fun-loving lifestyle, and by the time I’m gone, Merry will be calling you Mr. Fun instead of Mr. No.”
Noah laughed. “I don’t see that happening,” he answered dryly.
“Never underestimate me, Noah,” Cat winked at him in the darkness.
“I find it hard to believe that anyone bothers doing that where you’re concerned.”
She grabbed him by the coat and kissed him. It escalated into wandering hands and whispered promises as the windows fogged around them.
“Come home with me,” he demanded breaking the kiss.
She shook her head. “You have Sara tonight,” Cat reminded him.
“Tomorrow then. I’ll meet you.”
Again, she shook her head, but this time there was a smile playing on her swollen lips. “Filming at the Hais’ all day. That is, if you guys managed to finish the treehouse.”
Noah proudly held up his paint splattered hands. “Done with the splinters to prove it.
“Poor baby.” Cat gave his palm a tender kiss.
He reached for her hand, placed his lips against her tattoo. Homage paid.
“I should go,” she said, and he heard the regret in her tone. “I have a lot of work to catch up on. I’ve been ignoring social media and emails and pretty much everything.”
“Maybe I can call you later?” he suggested.
“Maybe you can,” she agreed with the flirty smile that made him feel like he was a king.
She flipped that long honeyed blonde hair over her shoulder and smiled shyly at him as she opened the truck door. Catalina King lo
oked at him like she had a school girl crush.
Noah watched her slip out of the truck then walked the rest of the way home with a spring in his step.
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“You’re acting weird again,” Sara frowned at him.
Noah stopped mid-whistle as he chopped fresh parsley.
“No, I’m not,” he insisted.
“Dad, you’ve been moping around here for two days, and now it’s all singing and whistling.” She eyed him from across the counter. “You’re acting like LauraBeth Fidowski when she and Tommy Bigelow get into a fight and make up.”
“LauraBeth is dating a sophomore?” Noah wasn’t a fan of this news.
Sara groaned. “Trust you to completely miss my point. You’re such a dad!”
Noah decided to take it as a compliment. “What was your point again?” Noah asked, shoveling up a mound of parsley and sprinkling it over top the two bowls of spicy tortilla soup.
“I’m wondering why you’re acting like an eighth grader who keeps breaking up with and getting back together with her tenth-grade boyfriend.”
“Hmm,” Noah hummed. He was starting to learn that his knee-jerk response didn’t get him very far with his daughter.
Sara heaved another sigh and carted the plates to the table. Dinners were quieter with it being just the two of them in the house. He hated to admit it, but at times, it had been nice to have a crowd under his roof.
“Don’t you prefer me in a better mood?” Noah asked, side-stepping her question.
“I like knowing why you’re in the mood you’re in. I value predictability.”
Well that was a new one.
“You value predictability?” Noah parroted.
“In some ways all kids do,” she insisted wisely.
“Huh. Well, I’ll try to be more predictable,” Noah promised.
Sara dipped her spoon into her soup and muttered about parents being “so weird.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Cat hurried down the sidewalk as quietly as she could. It was nearly midnight, and snow flurries were dancing on the night air. Filming had given way to two conference calls, a quick sit-down with the story editor, and then rewriting the call sheets for tomorrow. She and Drake were going to have to sit-down for another round of one-on-ones to round out the Hai episode. She’d barely made a dent in her miles-long social media notifications, but she wanted Noah. Wanted his arms around her. Wanted to hear that slow, dependable beat of his heart.
