by Cara Bastone
“Hi,” she said back, her smile so big her cheeks ached. “The towels are in the back closet.”
“Okay.” He turned and carried her to the linen closet and she couldn’t stop smiling. He scrabbled for a second at the closet door, but apparently couldn’t open it and hold on to her at the same time, so after a brief struggle, simply gave up, pressing her back into the closed door and leaning into her. “I can’t get the towels.”
“Dang,” she said in mock disappointment. “I guess we’ll just have to find some other way to warm up.”
“I guess we will,” he agreed solemnly, his eyes on her mouth.
The blue of his eyes was even more devastating at point-blank range. She couldn’t begin to explain why that friendly color was just so freaking sexy. Faded blue, not piercing or even intense. Just perfect.
His eyes bounced from her gaze to her mouth. He leaned in and Cat inhaled hard, her eyes falling closed. He smelled like his familiar detergent. Mint toothpaste and warm weather. His nose touched hers, his wet hair sliding against her forehead. And then his mouth, warm and sure, closed over hers.
She was a flower in the sun, water on a hot pan, that first gasp of breath after a second too long underwater. He held her firmly pinned between the wall and the broad line of his body. When his tongue swept against hers, Cat knew this was the kind of kiss she’d feel for days, weeks. This kiss was going to have aftershocks.
“Holy smokes,” she gasped, rolling her face to the side to take a gulp of much-needed air.
“Yeah,” he half laughed, half panted. “Holy smokes.”
She narrowed her eyes and brushed her nose against his. “You’re going to leave a mark, aren’t you?”
“We can only hope,” he said. And kissed her again.
Epilogue
Ten years later
QUENTIN JUMPED TO the side to avoid the chattering herd of elementary schoolers that careened through the hall to make it to class before the first bell. It was the first day back from summer vacation and he had to smile at the joyous, puppy-like reunions taking place left and right.
He weaved through the hallway until he stood outside Cat’s classroom, the same one he’d helped her move into a few years ago.
A dad and his son blocked the doorway as the kid poked his head around the doorjamb.
“She’s not here yet,” the kid hissed to his dad, something akin to panic in his eyes.
“Matty, she’s gonna be here. I promise. We checked the class listings. You’re both in Ms. Foster’s class.”
Hearing that, a little electric zing of energy zipped through Quentin from his feet to his ears. Every once in a while—even after all this time—it just really got him, that Cat shared his last name. He’d never expected her to give up her name. LaFievre. He’d been thrilled and honored when she’d decided to hyphenate after they got married. She went by Ms. Foster in the classroom, and at first she’d told him it was because it was easier for the kids to remember. But a few years ago she’d confessed that she liked hearing his last name over and over all day. That every time she got called Ms. Foster, she thought of him.
“Joy!” the little boy called as a girl with two long black braids came scampering up to the doorway.
“Hi, Matty!”
The little boy took her by the hand and tugged her into the classroom, all first-day fears apparently promptly forgotten.
“Oh, thank God,” the dad muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That was a near-death experience.”
Quentin chuckled and caught the dad’s eye. “You were worried? You seemed so calm.”
“Seemed being the operative word there. I find parenting to be, like, ninety percent bluster. But if Joy had been switched to another class... Man, I am not above bribing somebody.”
Quentin laughed and held out his hand. “Quentin.”
“Sebastian.” They shook hands. “Which one’s yours?”
“The one with the long curly hair and the big silver earrings.”
Sebastian squinted into the classroom and then his face broke into a smile. “You’re Ms. Foster’s husband?”
“Yup.”
“Nice to meet you, man.”
“You too. I’m just gonna deliver the lunch she forgot this morning.”
They nodded goodbye and Quentin looked back just in time to see Sebastian taking one last peek into the classroom, checking to see his son safe and happy at his seat.
And then Cat was bounding up to Quentin, going up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Q! What are you doing here?”
She looked beautiful today, as she always did. Something about her just really rang Quentin’s bell. Her hair was just as wild as when they’d first met, though now there were silvery threads running through it. It was a premature gray, as she was still in her mid-thirties, but instead of freaking out, she’d started naming each new silver hair, delighted with each and every one. “They’re my badges of honor, Quentin,” she’d insisted.
Had he mentioned that he really dug his wife? Because he pretty much thought she was the greatest of all time. The number one.
He held up her sack lunch to answer her question and the brilliant smile he got in return was definitely worth the schlep over to school.
“Thanks!”
Something over Cat’s shoulder caught Quentin’s eye and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched Matty do a pretty spot-on chipmunk impression that had Joy laughing hard. He thought of the rapport between Matty and his dad. The obvious ease. The obvious love.
Quentin and Cat had kicked the having-children can down the road a few times. But Quentin was starting to see it on the horizon again, waiting for them in the middle of the road. And this time? It didn’t seem so scary. This time it actually sounded pretty good.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Cat asked him, nudging him in the side with that poky little elbow he’d come to love so much.
“Nothing,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Possibility.”
“What kind of possibility?” she asked through comically suspicious eyes.
He shrugged. “Family possibility.”
Her eyes widened and then she broke into her signature grin. She knew how complicated his family situation was. She knew every in and out of what it had taken to get him here, to this moment. All the work, all the emotion, all the love. It would be scary for a man like him to stare down the barrel of a family of his own.
But it wasn’t. Not with Cat.
Whatever route he took, all train tracks led back to her.
* * *
Don’t miss Just a Heartbeat Away, Cara Bastone’s
full-length debut, available July 2020 wherever
HQN Books and ebooks are sold.
www.HQNBooks.com
ISBN: 9780369700308
When We First Met
Copyright © 2020 by Cara Bastone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at [email protected].
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