A Devoted Heart (The Heart's Temptation Series Book 2)

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A Devoted Heart (The Heart's Temptation Series Book 2) Page 15

by Genevieve Matthews


  It feels like I’ve been waiting for at least five minutes and I’m starting to get a bad feeling in my gut. I scroll through my contacts, pull up Cate’s number and press “call.” Her phone goes to voicemail. Feeling like I’m close to a panic, I leave a message.

  “Catey, it’s me. Not sure what that last text was about. Give me a call, will ya?”

  I press “end” and sit with my phone in my hand. A few more minutes without anything else from Cate and I can’t sit still anymore. I’m out of my chair pacing back and forth in my office. The initial response that this is a joke has unfortunately passed.

  Every muscle in my body feels tense right now. Obviously something happened but I have no idea what.

  “Think, Lockwood,” I say to myself as I continue to pace back and forth.

  Finally, through all of the fog and frustration, it comes to me. Something I should have thought of right away. This isn’t the first time the media has been to blame for causing a shit storm in my life.

  I quickly google my name and scroll through the articles that pop up.

  “Shit,” I say as I find the article that has most certainly sealed my fate. I click on the link and photos of Ava and me pop up, larger than life. They look completely incriminating. I don’t blame Cate for kicking me to the curb as soon as she saw this.

  The words from the article are just as damning. It talks about how I decided to celebrate the team’s win last night by visiting Ava in her hotel room.

  “No, no, no!” I yell and slam my fists onto the desk. “God damn it!”

  Well I’ve definitely figured out why Cate sent me that text.

  I scroll through to the bottom of the article and become even more pissed when I discover the name of the journalist who wrote it.

  Jonathan Norton, the same son of a bitch who wrote the incredibly unflattering article about me and my family back when I had started in the NFL. Why does this prick have it out for me? And what the hell is he doing following me around? It’s not like I’m a hot news story now that I’m done playing.

  I don’t know what to do, but I can’t sit here. I grab my phone and text Cate even though I know it won’t do any good.

  Me: Cate, it’s not what you think. Please let me explain.

  I grab my wallet and keys and race out of the building. I feel an overwhelming sense of urgency to find Cate and make her listen to me. Once I’m in my car, I’m driving to the coffee shop as quickly as I can without getting pulled over.

  I’m having the worst kind of adrenaline rush. There’s all of this excess energy inside of me, but it doesn’t feel like the good energy that I get before a game. I need to find Cate and talk to her and I’m scared that the only way this feeling is going to go away is if she believes me and forgives me.

  At this point in my life, I can’t even entertain the idea that she won’t forgive me. After all of these years, to finally realize that she’s the only one I want, only to have her taken away from me, would be the worst kind of fate.

  I pull up right outside her shop on Main Street and I’m out of the car almost before I have it in park. My heart drops into my stomach when I get inside and see someone else behind the counter.

  “Hey,” I say as I quickly walk right up to the counter. “Is Catey here?”

  “No, she wasn’t feeling well so she went home when I got here,” he says.

  “Okay, thanks,” I say and I’m already racing out the door.

  Back in my car I curse at three drivers on the three-minute drive back to her apartment. I take the steps two at a time, fumble with the lock and slam open the door with too much force. I can already tell that she isn’t here, but I search every room to make sure.

  “Where are you?” I say in frustration while standing in the middle of the apartment.

  I take out my phone one more time and try calling her. She won’t answer the damn phone, though, so it goes straight to voicemail again.

  The only other place I can think of where she might be are at her mom’s place or Bree’s. Those will be my next two stops. I need her to be at one of those places because after that, I’m out of ideas. I could wait here, she’d have to come home eventually. There’s no way I’m going to be able to sit still.

  I stop by Bree’s place first, but Cate’s not there. Of course Bree looks concerned so when she asks me what’s going on I answer truthfully.

  “I fucked up,” I tell her. It’s all I can think of to say. I can’t decipher her look but now that I know she isn’t here I want to move on to the next place she might be.

  Honestly, I don’t want to have to knock on Greta’s door and tell her I’m looking for her daughter. I don’t want to have to try to explain what happened and why Cate thinks I’m an asshole right now.

  I suck it up and within minutes I’m back at Greta’s. I sheepishly knock on the door and wait. Her face lights up when she answers the door and sees that it’s me. I stuff my hands into my pockets and look down at my shoes.

  “Brogan! It’s so good to see you,” Greta says. She’s already reaching out to pull me in for a hug. I hug her close.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Mercer.”

  “Oh, call me Greta. For heaven’s sake.”

  “Greta,” I say.

  “Come on in, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, I’m here looking for Cate actually. I’m guessing she’s not here by the nice reception you’ve given me.”

  “Uh oh. Sounds like trouble in paradise.” She steps back from the door so I can walk in.

  “Have you heard from her? Do you know where she might be?” At this point I’m willing to go anywhere I need to go. I’m not going to be able to focus on anything else other than finding Cate and fixing things between us.

  “Why don’t you come in and sit down for a bit.” She starts leading me into the living room.

  “I really shouldn’t. Besides, I don’t think I could sit still right now.”

  Turning back to face me, she crosses her arms in front of her and puts her head down while she mulls everything over.

  “Well I’m sure she went somewhere to think things over. Some place that she would have some peace and quiet. Do you have any idea where that might be?”

  I rub my hands over my face and try to think but I can’t fight past the panic that has overtaken me.

  “I can’t think straight,” I say. “All I can think of is how I already missed one chance to be with her. I was going to do it right this time.” Talking to Greta is like talking to my second mom, she was always there for me growing up.

  “I’m sure everything is going to work out. She wasn’t with Bree or at the coffee shop?”

  “No, I already checked.”

  “Okay, well where would she go when she’s feeling down? I know she has been feeling a little off lately. Bree’s married with kids now, she’s working way too hard at the coffee shop…things are changing. Maybe she needed to get away for awhile.”

  And then it hits me.

  “Of course.” I tip my head back, feeling confident that I know where she is. “Thanks, Mrs. Mercer. I think I know where she would be.”

  I hug her way too tightly and bolt back out the front door, jumping off the front steps on my way to the car. If I’m right, I have quite the drive ahead of me.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cate

  2005

  I’ve been staring at my computer screen all night. I have an essay I need to write and this sort of thing doesn’t come easy for me. Of course it doesn’t help that my mom and dad are in the other room involved in a screaming match again.

  If this were any other time I would have been out my window a long time ago, headed over to Cate’s. But she’s dating Andrew now and I saw his car in her driveway when I got home from practice tonight. A wave of jealousy bubbles up inside of me again when I think about it.

  He’s no good for her, but I’m trying to do the right thing for once and let her live her life. I’m going to blame all of my
relationship problems on my old man. I’ve seen what he has done to my mom, how he has hurt her. And Cate means the world to me. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hurt her like that.

  I can’t take the shouting anymore so I take my laptop and crawl out my window. Instead of heading next door to Cate’s, I walk to the empty lot behind our house. This hasn’t been our tree house for a long time, but it’s quiet and the old hickory tree is perfect for leaning against.

  It’s dusk and the light is almost gone. There is light streaming out from Cate’s bedroom window and I really want to walk over to see if Andrew has left. Very quietly I get up and walk over to Cate’s window and peer inside.

  She’s there, lying on her side on the bed, propped up on an elbow. Andrew is there, too. He’s lying on his side, facing her, mimicking her position. They have their homework in between them but they aren’t very focused on that.

  They’re talking about something when he very abruptly goes in for the kiss. She pulls away after a moment and looks at him shyly. I have a burning feeling inside of me. This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted to pull her out of his arms.

  I’m relieved when he gets up and packs up his things. He must be heading home for the night.

  “Brogan,” I hear my mom call from next door.

  Cate’s head whips around to the window at the same time I duck out of sight. I run back to my house before she sees me by her house.

  My mom is standing at the back door when I run over. I dash inside and she closes the door behind me. When I look over at her, I can tell that she’s been crying.

  “Where’s dad?” I ask.

  “He left,” she says.

  “For how long?”

  “For good this time.” She looks defeated and sad and after all of this time it makes me angry.

  “Good,” I say. She jumps at the forcefulness of my words. “We’re better off without him.”

  I know I’m really angry but I still feel that my words are true. I’m not saying it to try to make my mom feel better, it’s what I really feel.

  “You should have kicked him out years ago.” I can’t stand here anymore. I walk back into my bedroom and close the door.

  I lie down on my bed, thinking about my dad, Cate, and Andrew. Cate started dating Andrew right after prom. I never had a chance to explain to her that I went out with Tatianna again to get her to leave Cate alone.

  I thought if she realized that she didn’t have to worry about my interest in her, she’d forget about her and move on to torturing someone else.

  Of course when she heard that I went out with Tatianna from other people and not from me, the damage was done. I apologized profusely, but I could see that something had changed in her. We never rescheduled our date and then I heard through the grapevine that she started dating Andrew.

  And now, I really miss her. We haven’t spoken as much as we used to and I feel the void profoundly.

  I realize that I left my laptop outside so I roll off my bed and go back outside. It’s completely dark now and I can barely see in front of my face. When I get to the tree again, I freeze.

  Cate is sitting on the big rock.

  “I knew you’d be back,” she says.

  “Yeah, I forgot my computer.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  I think about lying to her and going back inside. But that doesn’t feel right and I’m desperate to talk to her.

  “My parents were at it again, as usual,” I say as I sit down across from her. “This time my mom says he’s gone for good.”

  “I’m sorry, Brogan,” she says quietly.

  “There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sure not the voice of reason, the one to get him to stay.”

  “No, that’s not your job. He’s the grown-up. He should be the one trying to fix things. Even if there are problems between him and your mom, it doesn’t mean he has to stop being a father to you.”

  “I know, you’re right. It still really sucks, though.”

  “I know.”

  We’re sitting across from each other. Cate’s arms are crossed in front of her chest and her knees are pulled up. I want things to go back to the way they were between us, before I messed things up. I want it to feel relaxed again, normal.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “For what?” she says.

  “For canceling on you that night and going out with Tatianna.”

  “You’ve already apologized for that.”

  “I know, but I don’t feel like you ever really understood. As long as she knew what you meant to me, she wouldn’t leave you alone. I had to convince her that we were nothing more than friends. I feel like I lost both ways, though, because I ended up hurting you and I wish I could take it back.”

  “I understand it now. At the time, not so much.” She makes a sound, almost like a laugh, and shakes her head. “Things will work out how they’re supposed to. It’s probably better that we keep things how they are and not complicate things.”

  “Okay, yeah.”

  I’m not satisfied with leaving things this way. But I guess she’s right, this isn’t the right time for us to start up a relationship.

  “How about this,” I say when an idea pops into my head. “You go find three things that remind you of me and I’ll go find three things that remind me of you. We’ll put them in a container and bury them right here, under our tree. Then we’ll make a pact that even if we lose touch, we’ll find our way back together again to dig it up.”

  It’s hard to see her face clearly in the dark, but she tilts her head and smiles so I’m hoping she’s up for the idea. I need some way to hang onto us right now. It’s like she’s slipping through my fingers and I’m helpless to do anything about it.

  “That sounds like a plan,” she says. “Are we doing this now?”

  “This is as good a time as any,” I say.

  We both stand up and for some reason I reach out to shake her hand. Maybe I’m thinking in the spirit of “let the games begin,” but I feel like a dork when she returns the handshake and walks toward her house.

  I’m already thinking about what I should choose as I walk back to my room. It needs to mean something. I find a container that we can use first. It buys me a little time to figure out what else I want to choose. I search through my room, my desk drawers, things in my closet, random items on my nightstand, and in the dresser. There are things in there that I haven’t seen in years.

  Finally I make my choices. I put them inside the container and carry it outside. A quick detour to the garage and I’ve got a small shovel to dig the hole. Cate isn’t back yet when I get there so I sit on the rock and wait. After about ten more minutes I hear a rustling sound coming from the yard. When she’s right in front of me I can finally see her. She’s carrying a bag, but I can’t tell what’s inside.

  “What did you pick?” I ask.

  “Oh, no,” she says. “You’re going to have to wait to find out.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not ready to see what I picked, yet.”

  Her comment stings and I’m not sure what she’s referring to, but I’m going to play along.

  “Okay. We’ll wait,” I say.

  I hold out the open container and let her put her bag inside. I screw the lid on tightly and start looking around for a good place to bury it.

  “How about over here?” she says.

  It is a good place, not a lot of roots from the tree. The dirt isn’t as packed down here either and there’s a raspberry bush marking the spot.

  It doesn’t take long to dig the hole. Cate sets it inside once it’s deep enough and I quickly cover it again with dirt.

  “What do you say, Catey, seal it with a kiss?”

  After a moment she says, “Sure,” and leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Brogan

  It’s a long drive b
ack to Highland, but I know the trip by heart. Wherever I’ve traveled, I’ve always managed to find my way back home. Now there’s something else pulling me back, but it’s the one thing I finally realize I need in my life.

  I hear so many conflicting things about relationships. People always say to make sure I get out there and see the world. Meet different people and don’t tie myself down until I’m sure. No one told me that it was possible to meet my one true love when we were six years old.

  East Fechet Parkway looks exactly the same. The same Cape Cod homes line the streets. Many of the houses have pumpkins and hay bales sitting on the front porches. Muted-color mums bloom in large pots next to the pumpkins.

  I pass Cate’s old house first, a Tuscan-sun yellow, and right next door sits our porcelain-white house with royal blue shutters. I pull into the driveway, get out of the car and finally stretch my legs. I want to run right to the backyard, but I know it would hurt my mom’s feelings if I don’t stop in first.

  I use my key to unlock the front door and slowly open it, calling out to my mom so I don’t startle her. She’s in the kitchen at the sink. I hear the water shut off and then she’s walking towards me, drying her hands on a dish towel.

  “Brogan! What a surprise!” she says. I scoop her up into a big hug, lifting her feet right off the ground.

  “Hi, mom,” I say.

  “I didn’t know you were coming. You should have called, I would have made plans for a nice dinner.”

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. But dinner will be great, I’ll even help make it.”

  “Well come on in,” she says as she motions for me to follow her into the kitchen. “Grab something to drink out of the fridge. I was washing these pans, but they can wait.”

  I walk into the kitchen and grab a glass out of the cupboard next to the sink. I pause for a minute to look out the window, into the empty lot behind our house.

  I can barely see her, but I know she’s there. Sitting behind the huge hickory nut tree, she’s almost hidden but I can see her brown hair blowing in the wind and the outline of her sweatshirt and jeans.

 

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