Cat's Patient Heart

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Catherine laughed. “Your body needs it or you wouldn’t. You’ve recovered amazingly fast but you still have a way to go, Connor. Just enjoy the downtime. It’ll be over soon enough and you’ll go back to life in the fast lane.”

  “Is that what you think I live?” he asked but with humor not heat.

  She shrugged both shoulders. “I don’t know – you tell me. You own a club so that sounds pretty fast to an ordinary nurse like me.”

  “Maybe it’d slow down if I had someone to share it with me,” Connor said, alluding to a possible future for the first time.

  Catherine’s heart picked up pace and she rose to clear dirty dishes from the table.

  “It might,” she said, back facing him and voice schooled to sound like she didn’t care. Since she didn’t want to probe this sore subject, one she feared, she switched topics. “What would you like to do today?”

  “I can tell you want I don’t want to do,” Connor said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t want to watch another old sit com re-run on television or stare out the window to watch the trains go past,” he told her, “I’d like to get out of the house.”

  So would she. Since her one trip to the supermarket she hadn’t gone anywhere either and cabin fever threatened to claim her as victim. “Where would we go?”

  “I don’t know,” Connor said, “Do you happen to know what happened to my motorcycle? I know it’s totaled but I had a big leather saddlebag with my clothes and stuff for my trip that I’d like to have if it’s around.”

  “I’d guess they took your bike either down to the motorcycle shop or to the salvage yard,” she told him, “We can find out with a couple of phone calls.”

  “Good. Then I’d like to go get it, maybe drive around just a little. The snow melted didn’t it?”

  “Yes but it’s still cold. Do you feel up to an outing, Connor?” Catherine asked as she ran dish water into the sink.

  He didn’t answer for a moment and without turning to look, she knew he’d be pondering it. After a pause, he said, “I think so, Cat. I’m still not a hundred percent but I don’t have to walk far, just out to your car and maybe a few steps where the bike’s at. We don’t have to be gone long. I’d just like to see something outside these four walls.”

  That sounded wonderful to Catherine too so she handed him a phone book and her phone. “The bike shop’s listed under motorcycles and the salvage yard under auto salvage. If you’ll go ahead and make the calls to track down your bike, I’ll finish cleaning up and get dressed. Then I’ll help you get ready.”

  Connor grinned, full-wattage and her heart rolled over with surrender. “That’s a plan.”

  Forty five minutes later with Connor dressed, his leather jacket zipped to his chin, and Catherine at his side to offer support, the pair trekked all eight feet out to her car parked on the street. He waved her away when she tried to help him into the passenger seat and managed to settle into it on his own. The small effort paled him but his grin remained as she got in, started the car, and headed for the local motorcycle shop.

  Connor insisted she remove the last butterfly bandage on his forehead but enough of the cut and a few bruises remained to give him a battered appearance. At the shop, he climbed out of the car under his own power but his eyes begged for some help.

  Catherine came around and tucked her arm into his for support. “Are you doing all right?”

  “I’m a little unsteady on my feet,” Connor said with a short nod. “I just don’t want to make an ass out of myself and fall down in the showroom floor or anything.”

  He talked and she kept quiet as he sold his wrecked bike to the owner for a pittance. Connor got his leather saddle bag and all the other small items with the bike. Back in the car, he said so little after she stowed his gear in the backseat that Catherine asked, “Honey, is something wrong or are you just sad?”

  She read him right because he nodded. “I’m a little sad to see the bike go. I just realized that for the first time since I turned sixteen, I’m stranded without wheels of any kind. That doesn’t do much for my ego or pride.”

  “You’ve got your car up in Kansas City,” Catherine said. “Maybe when you get better you can have Larry or your bouncer drive it down for you.”

  Saying that hurt and the last thing she wanted to do was enable his departure but she didn’t want to cling either. If he stayed or if their relationship remained it had to be from love, not pity.

  “I don’t know if I’d trust them with my car,” Connor said with a frown. “Maybe, I don’t know. I guess I’ll see.”

  He sounded dejected and while the nurse within knew it wasn’t out of the ordinary Catherine worried and tried to cheer him up.

  “If you feel up to it, I’ll take you sightseeing before we go home,” she told him.

  Connor looked up and gave her a nod. “Okay, I guess.”

  “It won’t take long,” she promised, “It’s a small town.”

  As Catherine piloted her car through the streets of Neosho, she noticed the marked differences between the old hometown, the large small city of St. Joseph tucked north of the metro KC area and here. Some parts of the north side of town where she lived reminded her of the old ‘hood but most of the town either offered a Mayberry-like appeal or reflected the rural region. She narrated her dime tour as she drove around the courthouse square and pointed out the small specialty shops that operated on the site. Catherine pointed out the postage stamp size Big Spring Park with its’ natural spring, grotto, and Grecian pool. She drove the length of the short business strip, Neosho Boulevard, with its’ fast food chains, stores, and the local high school. Catherine even headed out toward the highway so he could see the local strip malls, more fast food, a few motels, and Wal-Mart, crown jewel of the 21st century small town.

  “So what do you think?” she asked as she headed back toward her house.

  “It’s little,” Connor replied, “But I like it, at least some of it. How long did you say you’ve lived here?”

  “Six years.”

  “Do you plan to stay forever or what?”

  Maybe he hinted but she avoided the bait just in case he wasn’t. “I’m flexible, Connor. I could stay here for the rest of my life or I could pack up to move somewhere else tomorrow. Being single comes with a certain amount of freedom.”

  “I hear that,” he said, “Hell, I live that.”

  He sounded as if he liked that so Catherine didn’t speak the old line from a Janis Joplin song that floated through her head, something about freedom meaning you had nothing left to lose. Instead, she asked if he minded if she stopped at Dollar General to grab a few things and when Connor said he didn’t, she wheeled in and parked.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

  “Sure. I can go with you if you want, though,” Connor said but he looked fatigued so she shook her head.

  “It won’t take long, I promise.”

  Just as she stepped out of the car, her cell rang and she glanced at it with a sigh.

  “Connor, it’s for you,” she said as she handed him the Blackberry. “It’s your club.”

  “Thanks,” he said in a mild tone and then barked into the phone, “What’s up?”

  Catherine longed to linger so she could hear the conversation but if she did now, it was obvious so she hurried into the discount store. She snatched the few items she’d come for off the shelf but got bottle necked at the checkout, stuck behind a customer with a heaping cart who wrote a check. The errand took twice as long as she planned but when she reached the car Connor still had her phone pressed to his ear.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it,” he said with heat as she got behind the wheel. “No, no, and no. You know better than that, Lisa. Tell Larry I want to talk to him pronto. One of you will have to hire a new cook. I can’t do it from here. Yes, I’m out of the fuckin’ hospital but I’m not recovered all the way yet. I can’t come back now – hell, I can’t walk more than a few
steps at a time.”

  Catherine debated on whether or not she should start the car but decided to wait. She jingled her keys, realized it would distract Connor and stopped. He listened; his eyes lit with furious fire and then exhaled a long, harsh breath.

  “We’re not cancelling the Valentine’s thing, no way. You people will just have to get it together. That’s one of my biggest deals of the year and I worked my ass off to build it up. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Just get it together, do you understand?”

  Connor’s face flushed crimson as he listened and then he barked, “Whatever. Just do it. And keep me posted, Lisa. Yeah, all right. Good-bye.”

  He handed her the phone and then he balled his right fist, smashed it against the dash as he swore aloud. His breath came too fast and he glared through the windshield without seeing. Then Connor buried his face in both hands.

  “Hey,” Catherine said as she put her hand on his back, rubbing it gently. “Take it easy, sweetheart. Is there trouble at your club?”

  “You could say that,” Connor replied voice muffled by his hands. “Everything’s fucked up and no one up there can find their butt with both hands. My cook, Lupe, quit and Trixie’s trying to cook but she damn near burned the kitchen down. The wall behind the stove caught on fire and they had to call the fire department. I need someone to repair the damage and get things up and running but I can’t do that from here. Everything I worked hard to build up is about to go down the drain. If I felt like it, I’d go home now to line them all out but I don’t.”

  He rose up to reveal his face twisted his anger and rubbed two fingers across his forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Connor,” Catherine said, her hand still on his back. Her fingers smoothed the softness of his leather jacket. “Does your head hurt?”

  “It does now,” he admitted, “Can we go home?”

  “Sure, baby, we’re going now,” Catherine told him. “Just try to calm down, okay?”

  He glared at her and then his expression softened as he said, “I’ll try.”

  At home, even though it was not yet ten thirty, Connor retired not to the recliner but to bed after downing four ibuprofen tablets. After his phone outburst and brief summary to her, he’d said little. Catherine fussed over him as she tucked the covers around him, worried because until now he’d resisted lying down.

  “Do you want me to wake you for lunch in a little while?” she asked but he shook his head.

  “No. Thanks, Cat but I’ll just eat something when I wake up, okay?”

  “Sure,” Catherine replied, choking on a wad of tears that filled her throat, “That’s fine. Other than your headache, do you feel all right?”

  Eyes closed, face wan he said, “Yeah, I guess, no worse anyway. I’m sorry to be such a shit.”

  She recognized the old patterns, the misery he could dive into without notice and the self-depreciation. She hated both, always had. “You’re not a shit, Connor. Your staff’s not coming through for you so it’s natural to be upset.”

  Connor half-chuckled before he said, “That sorry was meant for you, Kitty Cat. I know I must be a big pain in the ass.”

  “Honey, you’re anything but,” Catherine said, “I’m glad you’re here and I’m so happy you’re doing so much better. Get some sleep, okay?”

  “’Kay,” he muttered.

  Connor slept until mid-afternoon and she fed him some soup, all he said he wanted. He lounged around for the rest of the day, out of sorts and more than a little cross but Catherine understood. She pampered him as much as he’d allow, helped him when she could, and in the evening, after they’d shared another pizza, cuddled with him on the couch watching a war movie.

  She wouldn’t have done that for anyone else but he didn’t know, just assumed she’d watch it anyway. There’d always been a lot Connor took for granted and she realized, again, she ranked as one of them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maybe it was because he slept during the day so long or it might be due to his lingering frustration but Connor didn’t sleep well that night. Lying in the dark beside him, one hand stretched out to connect with him, Catherine knew his restlessness. Although he remained silent and didn’t complain, he shifted position often and twitched. His unease resonated with such power that she’d swear she felt that too. When he did settle down and his breathing shifted into the slower, even rhythm of sleep his body wasn’t still.

  She’d just drifted off herself when he shouted aloud, voice hoarse and rough and Catherine roused to realize another nightmare held him captive. Connor rolled onto his back before he sat straight up, shouting the same things he did before, “No, oh, God, Christ, get down.”

  “Connor!” she called with urgency, “Honey, wake up.”

  Catherine repeated it three times before he awakened and turned toward her, eyes naked and bright with anguish. Last time he rebuffed her, shut her out when he dreamed but now Connor reached for her and pulled her into his arms. Over the past few days, as he improved, the sexual tension between them built like an advancing storm front. They both ached for intimacy but she held back, afraid to hurt him and also because she feared rejection. Connor, with uncharacteristic patience, held back waiting for her green light but now, in his need, he took what he wanted.

  “I need you now,” he said as his mouth fastened onto hers. His lips burned like fever against her mouth and he claimed her with powerful urgency. Connor forced his tongue deep into her open mouth and French kissed her, the caress connecting them on a physical level she’d not experienced since they were still teens. His spark caught and burned as she became part of the conflagration unable to stop and with no desire to end the kiss.

  Connor’s need increased and within moments, mouths still joined he stripped away the briefs and T-shirt he’d been sleeping in. His hands grasped the flimsy little gown she wore and ripped it, the fragile cloth tearing as he pulled too hard before he removed it. That garment hit the floor and he moved his mouth from her lips to the base of her throat. His lips seared that sensitive spot there with combined reverence and need. Catherine moaned with delight as her hands, cautious of the healing spots, roamed his body with the same hunger. She stroked his skin, savoring the feel of it against her hands and ran her fingers over the curves of his body, tighter and leaner now than in the past. He let his mouth stray from her throat down to her breasts. Connor kneaded her full breasts with gentle but firm hands and let his lips trace a slow, wet circle around each nipple. Her nipples perked up, came to attention like two little soldiers and tingled with yearning. Then Connor slid his tongue in an arc toward her belly while she nibbled at his neck, her teeth pricking the skin just enough to cause groans of desire from his busy mouth.

  Catherine grasped his erect proud cock with one hand and caressed the length of the shaft before taking it into her mouth. To do so, she twisted into position like an agile gymnast and once her lips encased it, she sucked as he paused to make loud pleasure noises that fueled her own desire.

  “Don’t quit,” he managed to say through his groans. “Oh, Kitty Cat, don’t stop.”

  Catherine let her teeth play up and down his member until she didn’t think he could bear anymore. “Love me, Connor.”

  As teenagers, their first time just happened but after it, they made love as often as they could, sneaking time from school and using that over garage rec room when they didn’t have to share with her brother and sister. There’d always been an element of danger, the chance of being caught but now, it was Cat and Connor, nothing else, no barrier, and no restraint.

  Connor maneuvered her beneath him and she opened her legs wide for him, lifting them until she wrapped them around his torso. He speared into her with the violent force of a sudden storm, his cock diving deep into her waiting warmth. Catherine arched to meet him, her body willing and eager. As his hardness came into her inner sanctum she contracted her vaginal walls to caress him and when he filled her, they clasped hands. Two bodies strained together, melting and molding i
nto one as they rose together striving for that moment of total union that would bring physical bliss.

  He grasped her fingers so tight it hurt but she never complained. Catherine drew her legs closer against him and the first rush of pleasure rolled over her with such power that she whimpered.

  “More,” she begged, “Oh, Connor, give me more.”

  Connor thrust and strained, face intent with effort. “Come with me, Kitty Cat, come now.”

  In a dizzy whirl of flesh, heat, and light they attained orgasm at the same instant. That intense fury, the amazing pleasure rocked Catherine and she screamed out his name, lost in the utter tide of passion. Wicked fever consumed her flesh and with his body, Connor claimed her and marked her as his, now and forever.

  By the time they came down from that peak, she was weak and Connor collapsed beside her. He panted for breath but his grin proclaimed he felt fine. He stretched out his left arm to cradle her against him and she cuddled there, content.

  Connor’s voice was no more than a breath whispering over her skin. “Cat?”

  “What, honey?”

  “I love you.”

  Somewhere within her chest Catherine’s heart sang with joy and she returned the vow, “I love you too.”

  Neither slept again but they lay together in harmony until Connor shifted before sitting up on the edge of the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Catherine asked him. She was lethargic and loathe about letting him out of her presence.

  “I’ve got to pee,” he replied. “Then I think I’ll just get up.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Early,” Connor said, “I think a little after four but I can’t sleep.”

  He rose from the bed and so she reached for the remnants of her gown, rejected it because there wasn’t much left, and pulled on a robe. When he came back, he stared at her for a moment, and then said, “You don’t have to get up. I’m all right but I don’t want to dream again, not now.”

  “I know,” Catherine told him, “I’ll make coffee and you can tell me what happened.”