Spring Fling Kitty: The Hart Family (Have A Hart Book 3)

by Rachelle Ayala

“You had to remind me.” He snorted and buried his face in the menu.

  “At least it’s not the hundred fifty item menu at the Vietnamese restaurant I interviewed at. Maybe I can handle waitressing here.”

  “That’s an idea.” Connor chuckled. “Then I can have you stashed away at the cabin with your canvases and paints.”

  Like a sidepiece while he spent most of his time in the city with Elaine? No way, no how, no chance.

  Nadine’s nostrils flared as she raised the menu to hide behind it.

  The waiter returned with their water and pointed at a chalkboard. “Our catch for the day is beer batter fried fish and chips with a side of coleslaw, like it is every day, or if you’ve a hankering for the exotic, we have blackened catfish Louisiana style.”

  “I’ll definitely take the catfish,” Nadine said. “If that’s the most exotic fare you have.”

  “Regular beer batter fish and chips for me,” Connor said. “And a beer. What do you recommend?”

  “We have a large selection of craft beers,” the waiter said. He spouted off five brand names that Nadine recognized as fake craft beer brands owned by corporate breweries.

  The waiter took their drink orders and barged his way to the taps.

  “You don’t like this place,” Connor said. He glanced at the moose antlers overhead.

  “I didn’t say that.” Nadine shrugged. “Except I think they’re trying too hard to be backwoods. I mean, look at the pick and shovel they have mounted over the exit. What if that falls on someone?”

  Connor tilted his head and studied her, staring just enough to make her feel nervous. She barely noticed the waiter delivering their beers which were flat with hardly any foam.

  “What?” she finally asked when her skin prickled with uncomfortable heat.

  “I thought you were more down to earth. For a moment there, you were acting like Elaine, a little elitist and snarky.”

  “I’m not elitist.” Nadine’s jaw dropped. “I just think blackened catfish isn’t exotic. Besides, I’m not perfect, or maybe it’s a newsflash to you.”

  “You feel positively belligerent now.”

  Nadine hugged herself and shuddered. Indeed, the temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees. “I’m exhausted. Stressed. I don’t know how much I have to pay for the damage I did this weekend. I’m frustrated …”

  She trailed off, not wanting to belabor the point. All the time he sat here, idling with her, was time he wasn’t taking to go back to San Francisco and speak to Elaine. She couldn’t hurry him along, and she shouldn’t. But it weighed on her, the not knowing if this fantasy bubble would pop.

  “What’s bothering you?” His eyebrows creased, concern plain on his face. “Did you not have fun fishing?”

  “That was hilarious and I enjoyed it.”

  “Are you getting tired of my company?”

  “No, not at all.” Nadine’s knee jiggled under the table. It was the feeling of restlessness, or wanting to throw things, of helplessness. “I have a bad feeling that all this will be over soon.”

  “All what? You mean me and you?”

  “Yes.” She bit her lip. “I promised to let you go back to Elaine, but the truth is, you’re still hers.”

  “Would you rather have me rush back to the Bay Area instead of spending the day with you?” Connor reached across the table and took her hands.

  “No. I cherish today, and I’m ruining the moment now with my moods. Maybe it’s because I haven’t painted or sketched. Haven’t written anything.”

  “I’ll stop by the store and buy you a sketchbook and some pencils.” Connor pushed his chair back, looking at his watch. “They’re still open.”

  “No, don’t. Please don’t think I’m a spoiled brat.”

  Instead of answering, he strode with long steps and exited the diner.

  Nadine put her head in her hands and sighed. What was wrong with her? If she kept acting up, he’d see her exactly as she was—a never-do-well and drifter. Maybe he’d realize how childish she was compared to Elaine. Truthfully, she had nothing to offer him but trouble.

  Elaine was an accomplished doctor and the woman he proposed to. Connor had only ever really wanted Elaine, and all of this could be a speedbump. He couldn’t possibly get over someone he’d loved almost his entire life in one short weekend.

  Connor had to get out of the diner or his head would explode. He should never have compared Nadine to her sister, Elaine, who was elitist and snarky.

  Maybe he was being selfish to indulge in this love story and drag it out longer. He’d truly enjoyed their day and wanted to continue making memories. But was this all it was to him? Experiencing the extreme highs and frightening lows of this kind of deep and consuming love only to return to the comfortable familiarity of his measured feelings with Elaine?

  Nadine was definitely more stimulating, exciting, and every good feeling under the sun, but he barely knew her, and he could never keep her on the side as a dirty secret the way her father had treated her mother. Despite them being compatible in every way, he still married Elaine’s mother, the woman who had the credentials and stability to match his lifestyle.

  Who was right for him? Connor Hart. Was he a man driven by logic and doing the right thing? Or could he move like a dreamer and drift wherever the currents of love took him? Choosing a life partner was important and he’d thought he’d chosen well with the efficient and level-headed Elaine. But the problem was, once the spark of Nadine was lit on the tinder of his heart, he wasn’t sure he could ever contain it. There was no going back.

  He found a sketchbook for children. It was more like newsprint and less like the fancy thick paper artists used. The pencils he bought were also school supplies and not charcoal artist pencils. He added an eraser and a couple of notepads.

  The entire question of Elaine fought like fevers and chills inside his mind, tearing and shredding his resolve. Maybe the solution was to drive back to the city and force a resolution. Break up with Elaine and make a clean cut. Except he had to leave Nadine reassurance before he went. He couldn’t let her dangle, consumed with fear and guilt, that he’d forget about her—that this had been nothing but a fling.

  He paid for the pads and pencils and made his way back to the diner. His mood was dampened, and he itched to have it out with Elaine and find out why she sent Nadine in her place.

  Connor caught sight of Nadine with her head propped in her hands inside the diner. She looked miserable—probably as miserable as he felt. This turmoil had to be solved one way or the other, but there was nothing he could do tonight. Maybe she could relieve her stress with the sketchpad.

  He stepped quietly toward her and placed the drawing material on the table.

  “For you.” He pulled his chair and sat. “Let’s enjoy this evening. Tomorrow, if you want, we’ll go back home. Sound like a deal?”

  “Yes. And thanks. Thanks for everything. I do want to go home. More than you know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The blackened catfish with corn and black bean salad on the side was tastier than Nadine had expected, and the beer wasn’t too bad.

  “I’m sorry about my hissy fit earlier.” Nadine wiped her lips with a napkin and looked around the tiny diner. “Thanks for a memorable dinner. I love this place. It’s so full of gold mining charm.”

  “Your hissy fits are cute,” Connor said. “But don’t you think the moose antlers are out of place?”

  “We’re definitely not in Maine anymore.”

  “Actually, we have moose in Idaho, but who’s quibbling?”

  “Not me.” She took out one of the sketchpads. “Why don’t you move over and sit under the antlers and I’ll take a picture? Sit still, because this might take a while.”

  Connor was as big and burly as any mountain man, and while he wasn’t wearing the traditional red and black checked lumberjack shirt, she could pencil it in. She sketched the lines of his strong face, feathering in the brows.

  “H
ow long do I have to sit here?”

  “Just past dessert would do.” She licked her lips as she formed the sexy bow of his mouth.

  “What would you like? They have blackberry cobbler and vanilla ice cream."

  “I’d like you, but for now, I’ll take drawing you.” She settled into the sketch, working quickly, while trying to hide the pleasure she had of looking at his delectable face.

  He cleared his throat and grinned. “Are you flirting with me now?”

  “Definitely not. I’m sketching you. This is serious business.” She turned aside to hide her smile. As long as she could stand to let Connor go, she could survive this. Two weeks ago, she didn’t even know he existed. Two weeks from now? Who knew?

  Yeah, right, like she wouldn’t be utterly and completely devastated.

  She turned the pencil over and erased the last few marks, then wondered what he would look like with a beard. What would it be like to paint him nude?

  That was a naughty thought. Nadine hoped she wasn’t blushing. She returned to filling in his face and decorating it with a short beard, giving him a grizzly look.

  Drawing, sketching, painting always relaxed her and sent her outside of herself. Soon, she’d lost sense of linear thought and the worries that went with them, existing in a world of shapes, forms, marks, and lines—beholding only the beauty and love that was in front of her.

  “Can I look?” Connor asked when she finished.

  She covered the pad and shook her head. “Not until we get home.”

  “Home like to the cabin?”

  “Yes, the cabin. It’ll be our last night there.”

  “Don’t say it so gloomy-like.” He waved to the waiter for the check. “It’s the last of many firsts.”

  “I’m trying to be positive.” Nadine tucked away the thought about all the firsts she wanted to have with Connor. “I guess every moment is a first and a last, a beginning and an end.”

  “Every moment is magic.” He took her hand and caressed it. “I never believed in magic until I met you. Maybe I never truly believed in love, either.”

  “Do you believe now?” Nadine covered his fingers with her other hand. “Do you believe we can make it?”

  “One moment at a time, yes. I can’t make promises about exactly when. It’s a heck of a lot easier to fall in love than to fall out of it. I just know you’ve changed me and made me want more than mere existence. I want us to end up together. That much I know.”

  “I hope you’re true to your words.” Nadine inhaled a shuddering breath. “I’m not as experienced as you. I’ve never been with a man before, so I don’t know how all the games are played. I will never, ever be number two. What you said earlier about keeping me in the cabin with my paints and canvases pissed me off.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. I didn’t mean having you on the side.” Connor’s head snapped back as if she’d slapped him. “Is that why you got snippy? That thought never crossed my mind. It’s more that I feel the cabin is our special place, because I’ll never, ever think of that place without remembering this weekend. I’m hoping the cabin will always stay with us, even years from now when it’s filled with family—our family.”

  He raised his hand and cupped her cheek and she leaned into it, loving the feel of his strong resolve touching her and comforting her.

  “Let’s go home then, to the cabin,” she whispered. “And let tonight happen.”

  Connor lit the fire and watched the spark take hold on the dry moss he used as tinder. This was the flush of first love, when two people couldn’t get enough of each other.

  He arranged the kindling, large pieces of scrap wood and branches over the burning tinder, waiting for it to catch fire. The honeymoon phase. Still easy to light, but also easily extinguished. The kindling had to provide a stable foundation for the larger logs—the type of love one built an entire life around.

  These thick, sturdy logs would burn a long time, full of glowing embers that would keep things hot and interesting. This was the love he wanted with Nadine. Slow burning, but full of spark and glow.

  Once he had a toasty fire going, Connor patted his dog and waited for Nadine to join him. She’d insisted on taking a shower because she’d been out fishing all day. So had he, but there was only one shower in the cabin, and he wasn’t about to take a dunk outside with the garden hose.

  The kitten jumped onto his lap when he took his guitar out of the case and started strumming. He wasn’t much of a singer, wasn’t sure if he could hold a tune, but he loved the progression of chords, the blending of tones and the lulling rhythm. So he mostly hummed. Hummed tunes that traveled through him, coming from nowhere and going to whence he had no clue. He never bothered to write them down, since it would interrupt the pull of the music and ruin the moment.

  It was the scent of honeysuckle and lemons that made him conscious Nadine had slipped into the living room. Her hair was long and damp, and she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants—obviously ready to go to bed.

  She hadn’t bothered to wear makeup and get dolled up for him. But then, he was starting to realize Nadine was like that—real. She wasn’t out for seduction or to score him for a good time, and he wouldn’t have wanted her if she had.

  She didn’t speak, so he kept playing, although his strumming picked up tempo, and the minor key changed into a brighter, cheerier major. He tried finger picking, and something about the tune amused her, because she cracked a smile and covered her mouth, either shy or flirtatious. He couldn’t tell which, and somehow, it didn’t matter.

  All he knew was her eyes, melting with his, the fire crackling and throwing a spark every so often, the heat at his back, and the warmth in front of him. His dog curled at his feet and her cat cuddled with his dog—best friends. He played songs from his heart—wordless songs, because he wasn’t a poet. He’d let her fill in the words and the images and the colors and the texture.

  Fill in the empty spaces with tendrils curling with love. The tune between the chords, and the gap between the strums, the quiet spaces on the canvas, places of rest and simplicity, the in-betweens where love made its home. Her voice joined his, vocalizing thoughts, painting emotions, improvising a story that ran ahead and trailed behind, like a puppy out at the river, meandering and exploring.

  Their fingers intertwined first, and then the guitar fell silent, although the music danced on between them. Her pure white fragrance crept around and beneath his earthy musky roughness, as their bodies touched. Softly their lips joined, and their song took life, soaring on wings of courage and trust.

  Love came.

  Love saw.

  Love conquered.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nadine let go of all thought, logic, and worries. She was in Connor’s arms, kissing him, loving him, and melting faster than an ice cube on a hot griddle.

  His hands explored her body, igniting fire throughout her veins. She loved him. Plain and simple, and there was no denying it. No pretending they were only friends. No pulling back.

  She bit back a moan as he trailed his lips down her neck, kissing and nipping her gently. A small voice in the back of her mind warned her that what she was allowing was wrong. Connor did not belong to her. He was engaged to her sister, but the louder beat from her heart shouted that he already belonged to her—from before time began.

  Before he moved further down, she threaded her fingers through his thick hair and brought his lips back to hers. She closed her eyes, allowing his love to seep through her body, paying close attention to the popping of the dying fire, the scent of his manliness, and the scratch of his beard stubble against her skin.

  He was turning her on way too fast, and if he kept touching and handling her, she’d combust, and then things could get tricky.

  “Connor, stop,” she muttered when his hand drifted to her breast. “We have to do the right thing.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and nodded, his shoulders hunched. “Guess it’s time to call it a night.”r />
  “We could still talk or sing.”

  A crooked grin lifted one side of his rugged face. “Oh, you have me way beyond talking and singing. I love you, Nadine. I love everything about you, your talent, your mind, your heart, and your kindness. But right now, I want to make love to you. I want to make your body sing and your heart soar. I want you to feel my love inside and out, top to bottom, so much that the whole universe rings out with your cries of pleasure.”

  Oh wow! Her entire being soaked up his words, and she felt like she was being reborn, brand new and perfect, covered and wrapped up in his arms. She was already joined to him from before time began, but this was beyond comprehension, skin touching skin, body to soul, heart to heart, and if fate decreed, a new life knit together by the strongest bonds of love.

  Her heartbeat picked up the pace, and she felt a flush rising from her belly up to her chest and face. Her hand shook as she reached up and ran the backs of her fingers over his jaw. “I’ve never made love before. I want it to be perfect, but I’m scared.”

  “You’re a virg—”

  “Shhh.” She tipped her finger over his lips. “Don’t use that word, please. It makes me feel like a failure.”

  “Failure? You have no idea how happy I am. No idea.” Connor propped himself at her side. “But then, we have to do this right. Absolutely right.”

  “Okay.” She pulled herself to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Now that I ruined the most romantic moment of my life, what do you propose?”

  “Sit over there, on the loveseat.” He got off the braided rug that they had been lying on.

  “Huh?” Nadine’s head swirled and her skin cooled at the loss of contact with him. “You want me to sit there?”

  “Don’t wake up Grey and Cinder,” he whispered. “You asked me what do I propose and I’m going to propose.”

  “Wait, really?” She scrambled to her feet and stared at the bunny slippers, sweatpants, and oversized t-shirt with a large pink smiley face. “Dressed like this?”