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One Day His (The Someday Series Book 2)

Page 3

by Shawn, Melanie


  Beside me Cat clapped and whooped. Mrs. Robbins was cheering, and Christian looked like he’d just hit a home run in the World Series.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. The kid had caught a ball. I was clearly missing something.

  “Thanks, Jace!” Christian enthused happily before running up to his still-cheering grandmother.

  Mrs. Robbins waved at us when her grandson made it up to her. Putting her hand up to cover her eyes from the setting sun, she called out, “Who’s your gentleman friend, dear?”

  Cat’s fingers wrapped around my bicep. I loved the feeling of her soft hand wrapped around me. “This is Jace. Jace Butler.”

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” I spoke loud enough that my voice could be heard and raised my hand to greet her.

  “Oh my.” Mrs. Robbins fanned herself. Not metaphorically—she actually pulled a paper fan from God knows where and began fanning herself. “Those looks and manners. He’s a keeper.” She smiled then waved as she ushered her grandson in the house.

  Shifting my attention to Cat, I was going to ask what the big deal was about the kid catching the ball when I noticed that she was gazing up at me with that look. The look she used to get on her face before our ‘break,’ before Natalya had forced her way into my life, before I’d caused that look to go away. The look I’d never wanted to see in a girl’s eyes—directed at me. Before Cat. Then, when it had gone away, it was like the sun had stopped shining.

  Her big, brown eyes shone up at me with the exact look I had tried to avoid being on the receiving end of and that now felt like the greatest gift in the world.

  “That might have been the first time Christian’s ever caught a ball,” she said in awe.

  I felt my brow crease. “What?”

  Cat smiled as she started down the beach towards her house. I stepped in line beside her as she explained.

  “Christian is not athletic—at all—and his dad is a professional football player. It’s not just that he isn’t athletically gifted. He also has social issues. He’s been diagnosed and misdiagnosed for years. First, they said he was hyperactive, then it was ADD, and his current diagnosis is high-functioning autism.

  “He moved here just a few months before I left for school. The first time I met him, he had his ant farm on the beach and he told me every single ant’s name.”

  “Wow. You have more patience than I do.” I knew there was no way I could handle sitting down and listening to a kid name thousands of ants. “You constantly amaze me.”

  Cat’s mouth turned up as her face broke into a huge smile at the memory, or my compliment, either way, I felt her joy radiate through me. Even though we were outdoors and the sun was shining, Cat’s smile made the world even brighter.

  Lifting her hand, she brushed her hair behind her ear and shook her head, her smile fading just a bit as her voice was tinged with sadness. “No, I don’t think it was patience at all. I just saw that he needed a friend, and I know the feeling.”

  Reaching down, I took her hand and wove my fingers between hers, wishing I knew what to say to take away the pain of her past. I didn’t.

  As we walked in silence, I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like if we weren’t here because of a family emergency, if we were just on vacation, or if we lived here. If being together, like this, was just our normal day-to-day life. I honestly couldn’t think of anything better than that. Before I knew it, we had reached the stairs that led up to her house.

  Cat yawned for probably the third time since I’d woken her up. Gazing up at the house, she didn’t seem in any big hurry to get back.

  “Rachel likes to eat early, so we should probably go clean up,” she said in a tone that sounded like she was trying to convince herself that it was a good idea.

  “Yeah. I could definitely use a shower,” I said as I lifted my feet and wiggled my toes, which were so coated in sand, I couldn’t even see skin.

  Glancing back at Cat, I saw a flush of pink rise up her smooth cheeks as she bit her full bottom lip. I loved the fact that she still blushed over anything remotely sexual in nature.

  “Is there a shower scene in Fifty Shades of Grey?” I asked, teasing her. Usually, I wouldn’t bug her about something she was embarrassed about, but this time…I couldn’t help myself. Just knowing that she’d read those books was seriously fucking hot. Not that I knew exactly what was in them, but I’d heard and seen enough to get the idea.

  Her blush deepened as she cast her eyes down to the sand and her shoulders slumped as if she were retreating into herself. I wanted to kick my own ass for bringing it up and was just about to try to remove my foot from my mouth when she squared her shoulders, lifting her eyes straight to mine, and spoke with steady, strong voice, “Actually, the bath scene is my favorite.”

  Then her brow lifted and she spun around before starting up the wooden steps.

  “Do you still have that book?” I asked, quickly following along behind her as she made her way up the stairs, suggesting, “Maybe you should read me that scene.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged, peering back over her shoulder with a teasing glint of challenge in her big doe eyes that danced with more life and joy than I’d seen in them the past day. And it made my heart swell. I was so glad I had been the one to inspire that spark in her spirit.

  “Maybe, huh?” I asked right before I lunged and picked her up, pulling her against me.

  She shrieked and began laughing as I tickled her lightly on her ribs. Then, still holding her in my arms, I moved my hands from her waist to her ass and lifted her higher up my body. She automatically wrapped her legs and arms around me.

  Our faces were a breath apart, and I brushed my lips lightly across hers. I felt a tremor run through her body at the brief contact that made my dick swell in my pants. I wasn’t sure if Rachel could see the walkway down to the beach from the kitchen, but I didn’t want her or Don to have a bad impression of me, so even though it killed me, I slowly set Cat back on her feet just in case we had an audience.

  Cat’s breathing was ragged, but not in the way it had been when we’d arrived. Instead of shallow and desperate, her breaths were heavy and filled with need. Her deep coffee colored eyes were glazed over with lust, framed by incredibly long dark lashes that fluttered up at me.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” I spoke in a raspy tone. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

  A small expression of confusion flashed across Cat’s face as her brow furrowed creating a small wrinkle above her nose that I was starting to think might just be the cutest damn thing in the entire world. I could tell that she was doing a Google search in her mind to try and figure out what I was talking about. It must have come up with zero results because she asked in the most adorable bewilderment, “Like what?”

  “Like you want to do all the things you read about in your book with me.” My voice was low and practically sounded like I was growling.

  Cat’s lips parted as she sucked in a shocked breath. I lowered my head, not being able to resist the temptation that was Cat Nichols’ perfect full lips.

  “Hey!” A loud yell startled me, and in one motion I moved Cat behind me so that I was shielding her from the intrusive voice.

  At the top of the wooden walkway that led from the steps to the house, I saw Don, standing, his arms crossed over his chest. My body relaxed when my mind registered what my optical nerves were telling them. There was no threat. Except for being busted messing around.

  “Hey, Don.” Cat’s voice sounded a little high-pitched and her movements were jerky as she navigated around me and quickly started down the walkway. “We were just coming in to clean up.”

  I fell in line behind Cat and forced myself to keep my eyes above her waist. If I didn’t, there was no way I could keep myself from going from half-chub status to full-blown raging hard-on. Cat Nichols’ ass could make a grown man weep—it was that fucking perfect. It was calling to m
e like a siren in one of those fairy tales, and I knew that, if I looked, I would most definitely turn hard as stone.

  As we passed by Don, he stepped to the side and raised one bushy eyebrow. “Is that what you were doing? It looked more like you were playing horizontal Twister to me.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. I hadn’t been prepared for Don to have jokes.

  Cat didn’t acknowledge Don’s statement other than picking up the pace. She double-timed it up to the back door. I wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or mad or what. I walked faster to keep up with her but glanced back at Don to make sure he knew that I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful or not take him seriously. When I did, he was grinning bigger than the Cheshire cat, appearing to be enjoying giving us the business.

  Good. The last thing I wanted to do was come here and come across as an asshole.

  The moment we stepped into the mudroom, I started to ask Cat if she was all right, but I didn’t get the chance when she burst out laughing like it had been bubbling up inside of her and was now erupting in a volcanic explosion. Well, that solved the mystery of her sudden speed-walking.

  When she pivoted around and faced me, her big, doe eyes were lit with joy from within once again. “We have to stop messing around in public places. First, that old coot with the shotgun, and now Don. Don is the closest thing I have to a paternal figure. We need to be more careful.” She tried to sound authoritative, like she was laying down the law, but considering she’d giggled probably every third word, it wasn’t very convincing.

  “Okay,” I agreed easily.

  “Promise,” she asked, pointing her forefinger up at me, looking so sassy and so fucking cute that I could barely stand it.

  “I pinkie promise”—my voice dropped to a low whisper as I took a small step, closing the distance between us and wrapping my pinkie around hers like I’d seen her do with Christian—“that I want to take you upstairs and show you just how careful I can be.”

  Her chest rose as she inhaled sharply, and her eyes dilated. Then her lips turned up in a grin that was definitely on the naughty side. She grabbed my hand, pulling me behind her as she continued her new habit of speed-walking.

  “Sorry, Rachel. Just passing through,” she announced as we rushed through the kitchen.

  “Dinner is at six sharp,” Rachel announced just as we made it to the bottom of a staircase.

  I saw Cat’s entire body stiffen at Rachel’s words. When she slowly turned around, her eyes shot straight past me, directly at Rachel. My heart felt like it stopped in my chest as I watched all the color drain out of Cat’s face. It was like she’d seen a ghost.

  What the hell…

  Chapter 4

  Cat

  All I could hear was the thudding of my heart pounding loudly in my chest. Forcing myself to speak, I asked, “Dinner’s at six? On the dot?”

  Rachel nodded without saying anything. I noted that her face was studiously neutral. I waited for her to expound, but she didn’t.

  That means Mom’s here. When my mother was away on business, or on set, or just gone, we never kept to as formal a schedule and Rachel always liked to eat early.

  My voice was flat and devoid of emotion as I asked the question I already knew the answer to. “So…she’s out of the hospital, then?”

  Again, Rachel nodded silently before straightening her shoulders and returning her attention to the stove. I recognized the posture. I wasn’t going to get anything out of her.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Don walk in from the door we had just come through, and my interrogative gaze shot directly to him. “When did she get home?”

  “This morning,” he replied in a monotone, a hint of sadness tainting his normally playful eyes.

  I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned back to the stairs and began climbing them. The stairs that, just seconds before, I was excited to go up, now felt like a plank I was being forced to walk. Dread filled me at the thought of putting one foot in front of the other and ascending them. But it wasn’t like I had a choice. I couldn’t stay in the kitchen forever.

  I walked up the steps one by one. Somehow, some way, I managed to reach the top. I led Jace down the hall to my room, my knees shaking with every step I took. All the joy I had been feeling evaporated like water on a hot sidewalk. Reality came crashing down on me with avalanche force and I felt like I was going to crumble under the weight of it.

  She was here. Not in the hospital. She was in this house.

  Then, like a magic spell had been cast on me, I went totally numb. It took me a moment to realize what had happened, recognize what was going on with me, and process the information. It might have only been a few months since I’d been home, but I’d already forgotten the total and complete blocking of any and all feelings that was my default mode whenever Angelica was in the house.

  I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t excited. I wasn’t anxious. I just…was.

  During the months that I’d been up in Arcata, at school, with my new roommates-slash-friends, with Jace, I hadn’t just been existing—I’d been living. I’d felt things. Some of the things had been good, some bad, some incredible beyond words, and some worse than I’d ever imagined. But I had felt them.

  Right now, in this moment, I felt…nothing.

  “Cat? Are you okay?” Jace’s deep voice sounded from behind me.

  My body flinched as it registered the reassuring pressure of his palm flat on the small of my back as I stood facing my door. I felt the muscles in my neck move as my head bobbed up and down, nodding on autopilot, as I scooted away from him and closer to the door. When Jace touched me, I felt things, and that was a can of worms I did not want to open here.

  Wrapping my fingers around the knob, I turned it and opened the door. As I stepped into my room, I noticed that our bags were both neatly sitting beside each other next to my large oak dresser. It was strange to see Jace’s belongings here, in my room. Other than my mother, Don, Rachel, and whichever stylist, publicist, or assistant happened to be working for my mother, no one had ever been in my room before.

  I moved to the side and let Jace enter before shutting the door behind me and locking it. I knew that clicking the lock in place did not actually ensure my privacy. My mother, her agent, her stylist, and her publicist, as well as Rachel and Don, all had keys to my room, and everyone excluding Rachel and Don had no problem entering whenever they pleased with no regard for me whatsoever. I stared down at my fingers that remained on the tiny lock. Even though it was an exercise in futility, I still felt a tiny bit better with one more, albeit small and inconsequential, barrier between myself and them.

  “Wow, Cat.” Jace’s voice sounded far away, like he’s spoken my name under water. Turning on my heels, I saw him standing in front of my floor-to-ceiling glass window wall. “This is…amazing.”

  Moving across the room, I watched white crested blue waves crashing onto the golden sandy shores below. Gazing out at the horizon there was water as far as the eye could see. The sun, which appeared like a perfect egg yolk, hung low in the sky and filled it with a beautiful yellow, purple, and orange haze. Well, that effect probably had more to do with the smog than the sun, but either way, the sunset was beautiful. Breathtaking. One that I’d seen thousands of times in my life and appreciated every time. Jace stood beside me silently as I kept my gaze looking out the one-way glass and remained silent as well.

  When I was growing up in this house, my room was my safe place. Sure, people would barge in, but they never stayed long. My mother very rarely came to this room; in fact, she rarely made it to this side of the house. My bedroom was the farthest room from her own, a fact that I had always believed was not an accident. When I was little, it used to hurt my feelings that I was so far away from my mother. When I got older, I appreciated the distance and didn’t really care what the reasoning was.

  Now, having Jace here, I wasn’t sure if I would feel the same about this room. Or if I would jus
t spend my time here feeling nervous about what he was thinking, what he was feeling, if this was all too much for him. I had no idea what to say, how to even begin to attempt to prepare him for what he would inevitably witness in the next few days.

  Feelings started flowing through me. No longer was I numb. Nerves began bubbling up inside me as I tried to formulate the right words to create a picture that would adequately detail the force that was Angelica James. Part of me wanted to cry; another part wanted to throw up. Questions that, for some odd reason, had not presented themselves until now started flashing in my brain like neon signs. Insecurity, fear, and anxiety crashed into me like Mack trucks in a three way pile up.

  What would Jace think of me after he met my mother?

  After he saw how my mother treated me?

  How she spoke to me?

  The things she said about me?

  Would he still see me the same way?

  Would he realize who I really am?

  “Cat, I would ask if you’re okay, but it’s obvious you’re not. Is it just your mom? Are you worried about seeing her?” The smooth timbre of Jace’s words stopped the questions playing bumper car in my brain.

  Again, I felt the muscles of my neck start working as my head nodded of its own accord. It almost felt like I was a puppet and my head was attached to strings someone else was controlling. Why couldn’t I just open my mouth and tell him what I was worried about? Lay it all out there, it’s not like any of it was avoidable. Maybe I didn’t tell him the truth because I didn’t have the right words, or maybe it was because I knew that, no matter what I said to him, nothing could prepare him for what was coming. I’d been dealing with my mother for eighteen years and I wasn’t even sure I was prepared for it.

  “I’m here. It’s going to be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll leave.” Jace’s deep voice infused my body. I stared out the window and tried to let his words comfort me.

 

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