by Edie Ramer
As she listened to him let Happy in, the expectant feeling inside her grew. As if it were Christmas, and she was going to get the best gift ever.
A few seconds later, he stalked toward Katie. Like a tiger stalking its mate, she thought, and stifled a giggle.
“Where were we?” he asked, in front of her now.
“You tell me.” Her voice sounded odd. Thickened. Her body felt odd, too. Like molten gold.
He put his hands on the counter, one on each side of her thighs, and leaned forward. As his face neared hers, she kept her eyes open, gazing into his eyes and thinking they were the color of heaven.
Then his lips met hers, and her eyes closed slowly, as slowly as the kiss. A soft kiss. A sigh of a kiss. After a moment, she raised her hands to each of his cheeks, a slight stubble tickling the heels of her palms.
Slanting her face, she kissed him harder, taking control. A sound came from deep in his throat. A primal call. She wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles behind him, her body answering the need in his voice.
He growled again, and a softer imitation of it came from her.
He pulled away. His face was flushed with color. His eyes glittered. “I wanted to do this slowly.”
“We can go slow next time.”
“On the counter?”
“We can. I’d have to bleach it afterward.”
With a laugh, he released her and stepped back. She smiled, though it hadn’t been a joke. She would have bleached the counter.
She pushed off to stand on the floor, then took his hand and led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. He was quiet behind her, a hush loud with rising desires.
When they reached the bedroom they started pulling off their clothes, both at the same time. Wordless. The passion taking over her. A tiny corner of her brain marveled and celebrated. It seemed with their clothes they were stripping off all that was extraneous. Nothing mattered more than the two of them joining together.
“I’m glad you brought protection.” She slipped out of her panties, losing the race to get rid of her clothes and be the first one naked.
He looked up at her, his expression serious. “I don’t know if I am.”
Her breath sucked in. Then he was ready for her, and God knew she was ready for him. She’d been ready since she walked into Mo’s office this morning. If she’d had to wait one more second, she probably would have jumped him, saying, “Now! Do it now.”
They tumbled onto the bed, and he was doing it to her. Doing it wonderfully. Kissing, touching, squeezing. And she was kissing, touching, squeezing right back.
He pushed inside her, and she was wet, so wet. A noise came out of him, another primal sound shuddering through her.
“You’re so damn good,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She hadn’t done anything except respond to the sexiest man she’d known. Before she could tell him, he was moving inside her, rubbing against that spot, that wonderful spot that sent tremors through her. Strangled screams came from her mouth and she gazed up at him. His head was back, a look of agony on his face as if he were in pain.
Or in ecstasy.
Again. And again. And again.
Then it came. A big one. Rapture shattering through her. She felt as if she stood on the top of the world and could see its wonders all around her and none of the ugliness.
But only the two of them were in this world, holding onto each other, shuddering in each other’s arms. As if an earthquake had taken place, the world splitting, for a second time the most beautiful thing she’d experienced.
He shuddered on top of her, and it took a moment for her to relax, feeling boneless, her breathing slowed. He rolled off her, and the air was cool against her chest.
“Thank you,” he said.
“My pleasure.”
He laughed, and so did she. They sounded so polite, as if she were a clerk at a store who had helped him with a transaction. She told him to use the bathroom first. As soon as he left the bedroom, she closed her eyes, a happy sleepiness hovering above her.
He returned to the room and it was her turn. The tiles in the bathroom were cold on her soles as she looked at her face in the mirror and saw she’d been walking around with a smile. When she padded back to the bedroom, her whole body felt like one big smile. She paused just inside the doorway. Gabe was half dressed, sitting on the foot of the bed, his left leg crossed over his right knee, his shoe in his hand, ready to put it on.
He glanced up at her. Unlike him she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. His hands holding the shoe froze; his eyes moved up and down, taking in the sight of her naked body. Every curve there for him to see. Every flaw.
She stood tall, letting him look his fill. His gaze warmed her, and her body thrummed, the hunger reawakened. The desire to have him again.
Watching the stillness of his body, the way he looked at her as if he wanted to eat her, she wanted him so badly that this feeling was too much, too big, too brilliant.
“Would you like...pie?”
“Later I’d like pie.”
Aware of his gaze still on her, she headed to the closet for the silk robe an old boyfriend gave her for Christmas long ago that she had never worn. Until now.
“Sex is a lot like eating pie.” The robe slithered around her, and her skin was so sensitive tonight, it heightened her sensuality. “Sometimes you have to have it right away. Sometimes waiting for it makes you appreciate it all the more.”
He laughed low in his throat and she heard the bed creak as he stood. She finished tying the sash and looked up. He had pulled on his T-shirt, and was snapping his jeans closed.
She led the way down the stairs and into the kitchen, smiling, feeling...happy. Like her Happy Pie.
As they stepped into her bedroom again, she wondered what pie she would make tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-four
When Katie returned after her morning pie run, the sun was just coming up and Gabe’s car was still in the driveway. A hum started in her throat.
Happy waited for her at the door as usual. She bent to hug Happy—she wanted to hug everyone today—before letting Happy scamper out like she was a puppy.
She headed to her bedroom and peeked inside. Gabe was sleeping, the covers pushed below his ribcage, his legs spread beneath the covers with one arm out to her side of the bed, as if reaching for her. Rays of sunlight streamed through the window and formed a nimbus around his face, shoulders and upper body.
She was backing away when a trill came. She hesitated and it came again. Spotting the source of the noise, she stepped inside, grabbed his jeans and crossed to Gabe. She shook his shoulder, his skin warm under her palm.
His eyes opened, staring up at her. A smile stretched his lips, and she started to smile back when another trill came from the phone.
“Your pants are ringing.” She dumped the pants on his chest then snapped around to leave.
“’Morning to you, too,” he said, laughter in his voice.
A howl came from outside the back door, and she hurried to let the dog in. She petted Happy then turned to the sink to wash her hands. As the warm water streamed over her hands, the need started. Not for sex this time, not for Sam. For pie. To her, this need was as primal as sex. When it called her, she answered.
She pulled the ingredients out of the cupboards and refrigerator. The usual suspects first: sugar, flour, salt, eggs, vanilla. Then sour cream, cream cheese, pineapple, walnuts...
The name of the pie hit her, and she dropped the half-filled bag of walnuts. The clip holding the bag shut popped off and walnuts scattered out, flying across the floor.
A snuffle came from Happy’s corner, then dog feet tapped on the tile. Katie still stood there, unable to move as Happy stopped, finding a walnut, then another and another. Like a catfish on the bottom of the aquarium, gobbling up the food the other fish missed. The bottom feeders.
Slowly, as Happy neared the bag with walnuts still in it, Katie bent and picked
it up. She felt as if she’d aged fifty years, cold from the inside out.
She was putting the bag away when she heard heavy footsteps from the bedroom. Gabe had put his shoes on, which told her he wasn’t staying for another round of lovemaking.
No surprise. The pie had already told her what to expect.
She knelt on the floor to find any walnuts Happy might have missed. Happy didn’t eat as fast as she used to though she gave it the old Beagle try.
“What happened?” Gabe’s black leather shoes stopped a foot from her hand.
“I dropped the walnuts.” She kept gathering walnuts, not looking up. When she finished, she crossed to Happy’s food bowl and spilled the walnuts into it. Happy wouldn’t complain about a little floor dirt.
“Does this happen often?”
“No.” She faced him. “You’re leaving?”
He backed up, not replying right away.
Suddenly breathing was hard for Katie. She forced herself to suck air into her lungs, forced her lungs to expand and then contract, to allow her to breathe in and then out.
“Not until after I’m done filming today,” he said.
She nodded. Her emotions were numb now, and she liked it that way.
“I have to work when I get home,” he added.
“Of course you do.” She smiled as if it didn’t bother her.
“It’s important.” He lowered his gaze. “Important to me.”
“Of course.”
He made a sound of frustration. “Not because it’s a job. It means something.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I want to. I’m filming interviews with children who have cancer. The format’s similar to the one I did with you. To what I did yesterday. I spoke to the hospital administrator before I heard from Rosa. It’s the same hospital I was in as a kid. A PR assistant just called to give me the go-ahead. She’ll help me facilitate the interviews, but I have to find the children myself and get permission from the parents.”
He watched her intently, his gaze dark and serious. A turnaround from the cool, laughing guy she’d met, just a few weeks ago when the leaves on the trees were the brightest he’d seen.
Now the leaves were rotting on the ground.
“This feels like a second chance for me,” he said.
“Second chance for what?”
“To do something that matters.”
She raised her eyebrows. Sending a silent question.
“I was a fool when I went to Africa.” He raked his fingers through his hair, his eyebrows down, his forehead furrowed. “I expected everyone to be happy to help out. Instead everyone had their own agenda. Even Mother Nature. By the time it was over, I just wanted to get home and not do anything for anyone. I was wiped out, emotionally numb. Ever since then, I’ve skated through life. Lived it without passion. Do you know what that’s like?” He grimaced. “Of course you don’t. You have your pies.”
“I know my pies aren’t as important as your videos, but—”
His shaking head stopped her. “I’m not mocking you. When I first met you, I envied you. Now I’ve found something that fulfills me. Something that clicks here.” He thumped his fist over his heart. “Only I’m getting double clicks, because you click in my heart, too.”
“Is that what we were doing?” Her heart was crying. “Clicking?”
He gave her a smile filled with sadness. “For years I’ve been avoiding anyone who made me feel deeply. And then I met you.”
“Of all the pie joints,” she said, “in all the villages in all the world, he walks into mine.”
He laughed abruptly, but there was no laughter in his eyes.
There was no laughter in her heart, either.
“It’s all right.” She raised her hands to the sides of his face. Staring into his eyes, she memorized the color, the way they looked at her as if she were precious. “I’m okay. I’m not going to fall apart. You have to do this, and I understand.”
“I should have told you last night.”
“Stop.” She let go of him and stepped back. “Just shut up. I’m glad we had last night, and if you’re sorry about it, then I will get pissed.”
“If you knew how much I wanted to stay...” He frowned. “I just can’t do what I want here.”
“I get it. This is a small village and you want to do big things.” She held herself tightly. If she didn’t, she’d start trembling. It was hard to keep looking at him, knowing he was going to leave. She just wanted him to go. If he stayed much longer, she’d do something stupid—like cry in front of him.
He looked away from her. “You were making a special pie? What kind?”
“The kind I normally bring to people in mourning or depressed.”
“Someone you know is in mourning?”
Her shoulders tensed and she shrugged. “I had an urge to make it.”
“What’s your name for this pie? Mourning Pie?”
She shook her head. “Sad Pie.”
He looked at her for a long moment. She looked back and wished he’d leave. He had to go on with his life. Fine. It was just one night. She’d get over it. She had an angel fixation, but he was no angel. As far as she knew, angels didn’t do what they’d done last night in her bedroom.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was thinking that for an angel, you make love pretty damn well.”
He laughed, his head back. She wanted to laugh with him, but couldn’t. Afraid it would turn into tears when there was no reason to cry.
“You should go,” she said. “Finish this job and leave.”
Still he remained standing in front of her. Frowning now and looking down, his eyes blank, not seeing her, just seeing something in his mind that he didn’t like much.
Then he blinked and the blankness in his eyes was gone. This time when he looked at her, she could tell he saw her.
“I can’t stay,” he said slowly, “but you could come to Chicago.”
Chapter Thirty-five
She looked shocked, as if he’d suggested she take a pastry knife and stab herself in her heart. “I have customers. People count on me.”
“Sure, I understand.” He always understood. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to be different. “I’d better go.”
Her forehead crinkled, but she nodded. He took one glance around at this place that had become so familiar to him. She called him her angel, but she’d been the angel for him. She’d been his inspiration for the video. Her reminders of his leukemia had been the impetus that sent him to the hospital where he had the idea for the videos with cancer kids. Something that mattered.
“I understand you came back because of the videos for Trish and Gunner,” she said, “but there’s not likely to be another video. I guess this is goodbye.”
He looked at her, and a big sadness crashed down on him. Sunlight shone brightly in her kitchen but inside him was darkness.
“I didn’t come because of the job. It was an excuse. I came because of you.”
Her eyes widened. “You didn’t call.”
“You didn’t call me, either. I should’ve stayed in Chicago, lining up kids to interview. Helping your friends is a good cause, but it’s not my cause. I could’ve given you the names of other filmmakers who would’ve done as good of a job as I did.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re the best.”
The darkness thinned, letting light in. “I won’t kiss you. If I do...”
“Yeah.” Her eyes were shadowed, her lips curved down.
Nodding, he turned to leave. He had two voices in his head. One told him to leave and do the work he loved. Another told him to stay with the woman he might love.
Both voices were loud. Both voices were adamant.
He started for the door.
Behind him, she said, “I’ll call you.”
He froze then looked over his shoulder at her. “If you call, it’s going to make it harder to get on with my life.”
She shrugged. “Who said it was supposed to be easy?”
He walked out, forcing his feet to move, though they felt as if they weighed a ton. As if his shoes had turned into cement.
And his chest felt funny. Different from when he’d walked inside yesterday, so hopeful and so horny.
When he turned his SUV onto the road leading toward Mo’s, he realized what the problem was. He was driving away without a piece of his heart. He’d left that behind him.
Chapter Thirty-six
At 5:43 PM Happy stood in the kitchen, her jaws raised, her ears flapping back, and howled.
Katie dropped the handful of silverware she had just taken out of the dishwasher. They clattered on the floor. She didn’t look down. Instead she stared at her dog who howled again, the sound mournful.
Gabe. He must have left the village. Somehow Happy knew.
A shiver went through her and she felt sick. The phone rang and she stepped over the silverware to it. Feeling like a zombie, she looked at the name on the display. Linda Wegner. Of course. Linda wanted to be the first to tell her Gabe had left. She wanted to be the first to hear Katie’s reaction.
Katie wanted to tell her that her old Beagle already told her, but then Linda would call everyone in the village and tell them that she always knew Katie was crazy, but now she had proof.
Linda Wegner was the paparazzi of Miracle.
Katie let it ring and went outside. It was getting dark already, but there was a light on in the barn Sam mostly used for his farm equipment.
When she entered, her shoes scuffing on the ground, he was leaning over his tractor. He straightened. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Tears threatened but she smiled instead. “Hey, Dad. Guess what I almost baked?”
“Knowing you, it could be anything and it would be delicious.”
“My Sad Pie.”
His eyebrows whipped up. “Sad? Anyone dying?”
Just my heart, she thought. “Gabe’s gone. Back to Chicago.”
“I see.” He grabbed a rag to wipe oil from his hands. “I saw his car by your place this morning. You want him?”
