by Ev Bishop
For some reason, his casual comment made Katelyn mist up. She swallowed hard and studied the DVDs closest to her to hide her emotion. How easily this virtual stranger observed and commented on her kids’ good qualities. Steve would’ve yelled for her to shut them up several times already. But she didn’t want to think about that right now.
She cleared her throat awkwardly and said the first thing that popped into her brain. “Miss Congeniality?”
Brian Archer, flirt and joker that he was, surprised her by blushing. Actually blushing. Then he picked up the stack of movies topped by the Sandra Bullock feature and fanned the titles. A whole assortment of romantic comedies met her eye.
“I don’t know why I like them so much. It’s a sickness.”
“A disease even. They’re so unrealistic and dumb—and completely predictable.”
Brian’s eyebrow lifted, a look Katelyn was already starting to consider quintessential Brian. “So you love them too?” he asked.
“Totally.”
They both laughed, then Brian’s face grew thoughtful, like he was pondering something.
“The scenery’s great out here in the boonies, but the nightlife sucks,” he finally said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Totally. It’s terrible. Completely predictable.” He shook his head, but the crinkle by his eyes gave him away. He thought it was the furthest thing from terrible and he was mimicking her on purpose. “Anyway, I was planning to hole up with a movie or two tonight. I could come by after the kids are in bed and we could watch one together. If you want.”
“That would be very nice . . . thank you.” Katelyn nodded, and, to her utter humiliation, her face heated and she knew she was probably bright pink. She did want. But she stopped that thought right there before she got too carried away, dwelling on all the details her “want” might involve. Evenings felt long when you were a single parent. That was the only reason she was excited about the prospect of Brian coming over—because adult company would break the monotony. It had nothing to do with the way he filled a shirt, had laugh lines she wanted to trace with her fingers, or how he smelled like heaven. Nothing at all. Not a thing. She also tried to ignore how her mind flew to ideas about what to wear.
Chapter 10
Brian knocked on Spring cabin’s door just as the sun dipped behind the mountains, streaking the denim sky with pink and orange. The days were getting longer, all right. Almost eight o’clock, but it wasn’t fully dark yet. He hoped, much as he liked Sawyer and Lacey, that didn’t mean a later bedtime for them.
The door opened and Katelyn was there, smiling up at him. As he looked down at her, he felt a stirring of surprise. She was wearing a baggy pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized hoody that had seen better days. She looked ridiculously cute, but it was definitely a change from her distinctive retro flare.
“If I’d known we were going to wear what we sleep in, I’d have shown up in my birthday suit.”
Her cheeks flamed crimson like they had earlier in the day, which was interesting. Why did she blush almost every time he opened his mouth? A woman as pretty as she was had to be used to male attention—even the corny kind he specialized in.
Katelyn looked down at herself and her face scrunched. “I’m sorry, dumb, I know. I was obsessing about what to wear when you came over, but then I thought that was stupid. We’re just friends and it’s just a movie night, no special outfit required.”
“So you decided to borrow a homeless guy’s clothes?”
Katelyn’s eyes flashed and for a second Brian worried he’d hurt her feelings, but no, to his relief, she giggled. “Something like that.”
“Well, you totally rock them.”
“Okay, well . . . ” They stood for a moment, as if someone had hit a pause button. Then Katelyn shook her head. “What are we waiting for? Come in, come in.”
What were they waiting for, indeed? He followed her in, and his stomach growled as the scent of hot chocolate and buttery popcorn hit him.
She grinned. “I’m glad I made snacks.”
“Me too, apparently.”
“On that note,” she said as they settled into the small living room, him on the couch, her on the floor, bowls in hand, “you owe me.”
“I owe you?”
“Yeah. Do you have any idea how many times I had to bribe the kids with the promise that I’d make them popcorn tomorrow in order to get them to stay in bed?”
“I can only imagine.” Brian laughed as a memory hit him. “My brothers and I used to complain bitterly if there was even the slightest evidence of a snack party that we hadn’t been privy too.” Weird. He’d forgotten all about that—that his parents used to drink champagne and eat smoked oysters after he and his brothers went to bed. When had they stopped?
A blur of something furry caught Brian’s peripheral vision. What the—?
“Don’t worry. That’s just Monster skulking around, not a rat. He’ll warm up to you. Especially if you throw him the odd snack.” As if to prove her words, Katelyn threw a piece of popcorn. The furry blur snatched it from the air and hurtled up the spiral staircase, disappearing into one of the rooms overhead.
“Well, I’m not convinced he isn’t a rat, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Katelyn smacked his knee gently as if to scold him, and Brian caught her hand—then dropped it as if burned. Theirs eyes met, but they both looked away equally quickly. What was up with that? he wondered stupidly. He’d touched her fingers, hardly anyone’s idea of an erotic zone. Why did it feel like a bolt of electricity had snapped through him?
Katelyn is a wife and mom and altogether not your type, he lectured himself, feeling a bit Callumesque. She is exactly what you don’t look for in women: needs someone serious, has tons of baggage, is solid salt of the earth good girl stuff. Friend stuff, in other words. Friend.
His “friend” passed him a full mug of hot chocolate, complete with bobbing, half-melted marshmallows. He inhaled deeply. Definitely a beverage of buddies and pals, not hot romantic interests—well, maybe for some guys, but not for him. He definitely preferred an edgier type of woman, a harder kind of drink . . . so why did he feel so soft-centered and warm when Katelyn smiled at him?
“Moooom,” Lacey shrieked from upstairs. “There’s a monster under Sawyer’s bed. Heeeeelp.”
Crazy peals of laughter—Lacey’s and Sawyer’s—followed the impassioned plea.
Katelyn sighed and looked at Brian. “That’s one of the reasons we got such a strange, obviously unthreatening little dog. Sawyer used to be really afraid of . . . well, a lot of things.”
“Including monsters under the bed?”
She nodded. “I figured if we could turn it into a good thing to have a monster under the bed, it was one fear that would take care of itself.”
“Did it work?”
Upstairs the kids were crooning, “Monster . . . Monster . . . come and get us.”
Katelyn rolled her eyes. “A little too well.”
Brian laughed. “What was the other one?”
“Sorry?”
“The other reason you got such a little ‘obviously unthreatening’ dog?”
Katelyn wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into her hot chocolate like it might have the answer—or like she was considering whether she should share the answer.
“A lot of people get dogs to protect their kids or yards or so they feel less fearful when they’re out walking.”
Brian nodded and sipped his cocoa.
Katelyn shrugged. “It probably sounds stupid, but I wanted to get my kids a pet that they would need to take special care with, that would show them that no matter how small you are yourself—or how big—it’s important to be gentle and kind. I mean, I want them to be gentle and kind with any animal or person, regardless of size, but with Monster, they don’t easily forget, and he adores them for it. I don’t think we naturally know how to nurture things, even things we love. I think we have to learn. We need to be taught.�
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Brian lowered his mug and stared. Katelyn turned pink again.
“That’s . . . wow. You’re a really good parent.”
“No.” Katelyn shook her head. “I’m not. I hope, sometimes I even think, I do some things okay, but other things and in the past . . .” She shook her head again.
Brian sensed that her comment wasn’t a ploy to garner an outpouring of flattery or compliments, so he didn’t argue . . . much. “Well, from where I sit, from what I’ve seen, you are. And anyway, maybe only shitty parents and complete narcissists feel confident that they’re doing an awesome job.”
That brought a small smile, finally. She dipped her chin. “Well . . . thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her smile deepened a tad more.
As Gracie Hart embroiled herself in the beauty pageant world, they laughed at familiar lines and munched popcorn—tossing the occasional piece to an increasingly brave Monster who had reappeared downstairs again—and Brian relaxed fully. Katelyn was easy company; he didn’t need to overthink their friendship. When the movie ended, they let the credits roll, each lost in their own thoughts.
Finally Brian broke the silence. “Have another one in you?”
Katelyn yawned and stretched. “I wish I did, but I have an early start.”
“Okay.” He got to his feet reluctantly. Ten-thirty felt too early for bed and too late to go into town to visit anyone else. Also, he didn’t really want to see anyone else. He was so comfortable here. It had been such a nice low-key night. He wondered if Katelyn read before bed. Maybe he should’ve brought a book and after they’d read for a bit, then he could’ve headed out.
You’re losing it, Archer, he muttered in his head. You’ve lived alone for years, but now you want a reading buddy?
He scooped up the bowls and mugs they’d used and put them on the kitchen counter on his way toward the door.
“Thank you,” Katelyn said softly.
“You made the food, thank you.”
She twinkled at him. “No, I meant for coming over. I don’t enjoy adult company at night very often, and I haven’t enjoyed male company in like, I don’t know, forever.”
“Well, I’m honored you let me invite myself over. I enjoyed it too—though the latter is totally your choice, of course.”
Katelyn squirted dish soap into the sink and turned on the hot water. “What do you mean?”
“You’re beautiful, funny, nice . . . you could have a guy any night of the week.”
“Um . . . thank you?”
“I’m serious.”
She killed the tap and picked up a dishrag. “We’ll have to agree to disagree. I have two kids, no money to speak of, and a very complicated life. I’m not exactly a catch, but regardless, I don’t want a guy any night of the week, so it’s a moot point.”
There were so many things Brian wanted to say that his mind stumbled over them. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that yes she was, stupid word, a “catch.” He wanted to insist that he meant all the nice things he’d said and more, even though he hardly knew her. He liked how kind she was to her kids and how sensitive she was about their feelings, thanking them for things they did for her, involving them in her day-to-day plans, and genuinely seeming to enjoy them. He appreciated how she was comfortable enough with herself to wear her least flattering outfit when she was having company. And he loved that she offered him cocoa, not alcohol—which was weird, because he loved booze—but again, this small action made him feel like she was accepting him into her real life or something, not pretending her evenings were something they weren’t. But trying to put any of that into words might sound like he was hitting on her and that’s not how he meant it—and it would wreck everything. He settled for, “So I don’t have to worry about losing my new movie friend to some hot date? Excellent!”
She flicked soapsuds at him. “I think you’re pretty safe.”
He grinned. “I’d better be—and I’ll hold you to it.”
Chapter 11
Katelyn sat on Spring’s porch steps in her leggings and well-loved, almost worn out runners, studying the check marks and cross outs that filled the current page in the spiral notebook on her lap. She inhaled deeply and as her lungs filled with sweet, slightly damp air, renewed hope and vigor danced through her. Even rolling her eyes at her inner geek couldn’t squash her satisfaction. She was fond of lists. Liked how they gave her a feeling of control. She could plan what she wanted to do and needed to accomplish, short and long term, then see those goals come to fruition, or at least track herself getting closer in a tangible way. Yes, she still faced a plethora of problems, but the past weeks had gone better than she ever could’ve imagined they would after that dark night at the airport.
Just a few of the things on her list making her smile as Lacey and Sawyer kicked a ball nearby:
Call Jayda at Got the Notion and see if her job was still available—check. The girl they’d hired to replace her worked well enough, but she was struggling with the work-school balance and had actually given notice. Katelyn could start back at the little fabric shop in two weeks. Jayda encouraged her further by telling her she could be as busy as she wanted after shop hours too, doing bespoke orders and alterations. “There’s no one in town like you!” Jayda had finished, which was probably more kind than true, but Katelyn found it incredibly cheering nonetheless.
Find a good second hand car, cheaper than the old one, if possible—check. She’d gotten it within days of arriving at River’s Sigh, actually, because Callum knew someone who knew someone, but she’d written it into her notebook anyway. She wanted a record of her good fortune and to remember to be grateful. The Honda sedan was twenty years old but had less than 100 000 miles on it. Plus, it had literally been owned by a little old lady for its whole pampered, parked in a garage, regularly maintained life. At five hundred bucks, it was not only a steal, it left her with a couple thousand dollars in her account.
And best of all? Find a place to live and arrange childcare. Check and check! She couldn’t believe her luck.
Jo and Callum, though Katelyn had hardly been able to articulate the hope even to herself, had agreed to a month-by-month rental. And in the freakiest, most awesome bit of coincidence or blessing or whatever you wanted to call it, Aisha, who actually had come for a visit, and was now frequent company, was looking for some extra work that wouldn’t take her away from Mo. She had a built-in, on the property, babysitter!
There was something else behind her current sense of well-being too, she knew, something that hadn’t made it onto the page, but still topped it: Steve had been wonderfully quiet and absent. She’d enjoy the respite while it lasted, trying not to overthink why or worry that it was merely the calm before another storm.
From somewhere across the parking area, Katelyn thought she heard a door slam—and her heart skipped. She set her notebook and pen down and shifted positions, moving a good two feet, but still couldn’t spy around the shield of cedar trees. She stood up, dusted off her butt, and strode down the path. She hadn’t gone far when Brian appeared around a bend thirty paces in front of her, dressed in a ragged blue T-shirt, moisture wicking shorts, and neon orange running shoes.
The soft breeze that had been caressing Katelyn’s bare arms suddenly roughened, becoming a windy gust that raised goose bumps across her flesh. A black storm cloud dodged in front of the sun, seemingly out of nowhere, and the sky darkened. Oh, they were in for it now. Spring in Greenridge—weather that could change in a heartbeat.
Brian lifted his arm in greeting.
“Are you still going?” Katelyn called.
“Of course,” he yelled back. “If you won’t run in the rain in Greenridge, you’ll never run.”
He jogged off slowly, but Katelyn knew from seeing him run daily the past week, that his regular pace, which he’d commence soon, would be what most normal people considered a sprint. She gathered Lacey and Sawyer up, shushing their protests with the assurance that they could go back outside
the minute the rain stopped, and headed toward the cabin. They scooted up the stairs and reached the shelter of the porch’s overhang, just as the clouds broke. Rain pounded the ground like someone was throwing buckets of water from the rooftop.
Katelyn glanced at Brian’s retreating figure. His worn shirt was already damp right through and clinging to the muscles in his back. She caught herself chewing her bottom lip in appreciation of the view and something long dormant uncurled and stretched in her belly.
Get a grip, she lectured herself. Poor Brian. The last thing he needs right now is to be ogled by you. For a moment the shine rubbed off her peaceful glow. They’d exchanged enough tidbits of conversation over breakfast, while watching movies—the Bullock night had kicked off a semi-regular habit—and during their newest shared activity, running together, for Katelyn to know Brian wasn’t enjoying the string of good breaks she was.
Katelyn’s glow brightened again, almost instantly, however, when Aisha trotted into view, golden-haired Mo in tow. Aisha was holding a sweatshirt over their heads to fend off the worst of the sudden downpour, and Katelyn wondered if she’d ever been happier to see someone in her life. Only because of the anticipated exercise, of course. Nothing more. Definitely not because Aisha’s presence meant she’d get to see more of Brian.
“Sorry I’m late,” Aisha said.
“You’re not late at all—and thank you.”
Aisha gave a thumbs up and little Mo flashed a drooly grin, which Katelyn returned.
“I’ll be back in forty minutes, an hour max?”
“Perfect. I’ll be here.”
Katelyn practically flew down the path. She and Aisha had decided that rather than shock the kids’ systems with full eight-hour days right off, they’d do a few short babysitting stints here and there first, so they could get to know each other. So far, it was turning out wonderfully. Both Lacey and Sawyer took to Aisha right away and seemed to adore “the baby” as Sawyer still called Mo, despite her delight in destroying whatever he built. And as for Katelyn . . . well, she really enjoyed running outside again. It was so fun!
