Compass

by Deborah Bladon

  You’ll stumble if you keep looking at what’s behind you.

  The words my mom said to me before I left California to move to New York echo through me.

  Preston is right in front of me, and he deserves my full attention tonight.

  “Will I see you in the morning?” Natalie asks with a wink. “I have it covered if your date turns into a sleepover.”

  I point at the watch on my wrist. “I’ll be here before ten.”

  “Don’t rush on my account.” She laughs. “I’m heading home to see the hubs. I hope you have as much fun tonight as I plan on having.”

  Holding in a giggle, I shake my head. “It’s just a drink, Nat.”

  “Famous last words,” she quips. “You never know what awaits outside this boutique.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, I’m locking the boutique’s door when someone grabs my shoulder. The self-defense training my dad gave me before I left California kicks into high gear.

  I turn quickly and jab my thumb into the eye socket of the person holding onto me.

  “Christ, Katie.” Gage’s hand darts to his eye. “What the hell was that for?”

  I bite back a giggle as I take in the sight of my ex-fiancé flinching in pain. “I thought you were trying to mug me.”

  “Seriously?” He shakes his head, his open eye raking me from head-to-toe.

  I take some twisted pleasure in the fact that I look hot tonight even though he looks just as good.

  He’s wearing a lightweight, long-sleeved blue sweater and faded jeans.

  “I was hoping we could talk.” He gestures to the area behind him with his elbow. “I was at the record store and saw you leaving so I sprinted across the street.”

  I glance at the street and the four lanes of traffic whizzing past us. If he wants me to be impressed that he risked life and limb to get to me, he’s going to be disappointed.

  “I don’t have time, Gage.” My eyes drop to the watch on my wrist.

  I’m supposed to meet Preston at a bar two blocks from here in five minutes. The need to get to him isn’t as strong as my desire to get away from Gage.

  He smells exactly as he did the last time I saw him in California. It’s the scent of his favorite body wash. I’m hit with a sudden rush of memories of all the early mornings and late night showers we took together. Showers that were less about cleaning our bodies and more about pleasuring each other.

  “You have a date,” he states matter-of-factly. “With who?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Is it serious?”

  Stubborn pride takes root deep inside of me. I’m not giving this man an inch or a crumb of information about my life. He lost that privilege when he ended our relationship with a weak explanation about why he couldn’t marry me.

  “I can’t do it, Katie.”

  It was as simple as that.

  I replayed those words over and over again in my mind. They held no clues about what took him away from me. They were as empty as the silence between us after he said them.

  I gave him back the ring and walked out of our apartment. By the time I returned two hours later, he was gone.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” He pushes for more. “Or is it more serious than that?”

  I watch as he lowers his hand, revealing the bloodshot eye beneath. I’m not a violent person, but I won’t apologize for the poke in his eye. If it caused even a fraction of the pain that he caused me, it was warranted.

  “We’re not having this discussion.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I need to go.”

  “To him?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

  I nod. “Yes, to him.”

  He steps aside, granting me a path to the sidewalk. “He’s a lucky bastard.”

  You were the lucky bastard once. Now you’re just a bastard.

  I bite back the words, not wanting to lose control. “Goodbye, Gage.”

  He swallows hard. “Goodnight, Katie.”

  I walk as quickly as my feet will take me until I round the corner and once I do, I lean against the side of a brick building. Taking a deep breath, I rub my shaking hand over my forehead.

  Chapter 11

  Gage

  I had no right to follow Katie, but that’s what I do.

  As soon as she disappears from my sight I set out after her. I have no intention of interfering in her plans, but the burning need inside of me to know what he looks like is driving my feet forward.

  I stop dead in my tracks when I turn the corner. I expected her to be sprinting down the sidewalk, not leaning against the exterior wall of a theatre.

  Her hand is on her forehead; her breaths are labored and rushed.

  I inch back so she doesn’t spot me.

  The urge to go to her and take her in my arms is strong. That’s never diminished. It wouldn’t matter if five years or fifty years passed. This woman lives within me. She owns my heart to this day.

  That won’t change, whether an ocean or my foolish stupidity separates us.

  I watch as she slides her phone from her purse, her gaze dropping to the screen.

  It’s next to her ear in an instant, her lips mouthing words that are rushed.

  She looks around but doesn’t spot me standing next to a group of women who are debating which romantic comedy they want to see.

  Katie’s eyes are focused on something closer; someone closer to her.

  It’s a man.

  It’s him.

  His back is to me but his phone is against his ear too, and he’s headed right to Katie.

  She smiles at him.

  It’s not the same bright smile she used to give me, but it’s enough of a grin that I can tell that this guy is something special under his expensive black suit.

  She drops her phone back in her purse. His is in his jacket pocket before he’s on her, and then his arms are around her, his lips pressing against her cheek.

  I stand frozen in place watching a scene I never wanted to witness.

  Rage consumes me.

  I’m not pissed at the guy in the suit who is touching Katie. My anger is directed at myself. I’m the asshole who walked away from the beautiful blonde he can’t take his eyes off. I’m the jerk who didn’t tell her my truth back then.

  I let her believe I didn’t want her, even though she’s the only woman on this earth that I’ve ever wanted.

  His fingers slide down her bare arm until her hand is in his.

  They set off down the sidewalk with him gazing down at her. His profile a reminder to me of what a smart man looks like.

  If he hasn’t fallen in love with Katie yet, he’s on the edge.

  It’s impossible not to fall in love with the woman, and once a man does, he’s lost to her for the rest of his life.

  I should know.

  ***

  “The rain doesn’t slow you down, Gage.”

  I look over at Gus. He’s wearing an orange raincoat today. It’s seen better days. There’s a hole in the hood. A steady stream of the downpour that’s blanketed the city this morning is running down the side of his face.

  I make a mental note to stop and pick up a new raincoat for him, size medium from the looks of it.

  I scrub my hand over my forehead. “I thought I’d stay ahead of the rain on my bike, but it has no mercy.”

  He glances over at my bike. I leaned it against a tree a few feet back from where we’re sitting.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today.” I suck in a deep breath.

  The smells of the city change whenever rain lets loose. I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to enjoy that so I put on a pair of shorts, a hooded sweatshirt and hopped on my bike.

  “I was up early,” he admits. “Sleep doesn’t always come easy when your mind pokes around in your past.”

  Amen.

  I didn’t catch a wink last night. Watching Katie with another man had my thoughts racing. There’s no way in
hell I could quiet them enough for sleep to take hold.

  “I’m here to listen.” I shield my eyes from the rain. “We can take this to a coffee shop a couple of blocks from here. I’ll buy you a cup.”

  “Did I ever tell you how much Lois loved dancing in the rain?”

  “I don’t think so,” I lie. “Did she drag you outside whenever it rained?”

  He nods, a smile taking over his mouth. “We’d head up to the roof of our building and dance the storm away.”

  “Was she a good dancer?”

  He leans his head back far enough that raindrops pummel his cheeks. “The best dancer in the world. I’d trade every day I have left for one last dance with her.”

  My gaze shifts to the river.

  “I’ll take you up on that coffee if you’ll throw in a glazed donut.” He taps my shoulder. “You can tell me about what’s got you troubled.”

  “I’m troubled?” I ask with a laugh, even though he hit the nail on the head.

  “You’ve been since the day I met you.” He nods. “Whatever her name is, if she’s walking this earth, you need to make it right, Gage.”

  He’s right. I do need to make it right with Katie. I plan on doing just that.

  Chapter 12

  Kate

  “We should start praying for rain.” Natalie locks the door of the boutique. “We had a blockbuster day.”

  We did.

  Both of our bridal consultants were booked solid today, but we also managed to squeeze in seven walk-in appointments. Natalie took care of three and I handled the rest.

  Not every bride-to-be found the dress of her dreams, but we sold several, and our alterations department was busy too.

  “Should we order pizza?” Natalie asks as her gaze slides over her phone’s screen. “My hubs is working out with his buddies tonight.”

  “Can I get a rain check?”

  “Are you seeing last night’s guy again tonight?”

  “His name is Preston and no, not tonight.”

  “Because he wore you out last night?” She smirks.

  Hardly. I was a mess after seeing Gage outside the boutique. Preston didn’t notice because most of his focus was on his phone. A big deal is set to go down in his office today.

  We said goodnight with a chaste kiss on the lips after I finished a glass of white wine.

  He wanted to take me home, but I insisted on going alone. I told him I was tired. He didn’t argue.

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it like?” She glances out the window at the rain beating down on the city.

  “Fine,” I answer without much thought.

  “Fine?” she parrots back, amusement lacing her tone. “You looked way too good for the evening to turn out fine.”

  The added emphasis she puts on the last word lures a soft smile to my mouth.

  “He had a work issue.” I shrug a shoulder. “His eyes were glued to his phone.”

  “Dump him,” she says with a grin as she walks closer to me. “If a man can’t turn off his phone when he’s with you, he’s not a keeper, Kate.”

  I’d agree, but I’ve been known to take phone calls from panicked brides when I’ve been on a date. Preston was as attentive as he could be considering that the client who called him repeatedly last night apparently has him on speed dial.

  “Did Gage ever ignore you to talk on his phone?”

  My head pops up at the question. She can’t know how ironic it is, so I fill in the blanks for her. “No, but he dumped me just a few days before our wedding. No explanation, no apology. He just ended things.”

  Her hand jumps to cover her mouth. “Oh, shit, Kate. I had no idea.”

  I tuck a hand in the pocket of my red skirt. “It’s not a story I like sharing.”

  “I understand.” Her gaze ducks to the floor. “He’s an idiot.”

  Many people have claimed the same thing over the years. First, it was my parents and my brother. When I moved to New York, it was Tilly and Olivia. Even a couple of the men I’ve dated have weighed in on Gage when I’ve shared the story of my biggest heartbreak.

  “It was forever ago.” I walk toward a rack of veils. “He’s a part of my past.”

  “Who stepped right into the middle of your present,” she points out. “What’s his story now?”

  “His story?” I bounce back her words with a tilt of my head.

  “Has he explained why he dumped you?” She locks eyes with me. “You want to know, don’t you?”

  Ignoring her direct questions, I run my fingers over the veils. “I got over him a long time ago.”

  I catch the skeptical look in her eyes when I glance back at her.

  “I’ve moved on,” I go on, pushing the wheeled rack a few inches toward the corridor that leads to the stockroom. “I’m sure he has to. We’re not the same people who almost got married five years ago.”

  We both jump at the sound of a knock on the door.

  It’s not the first time a bride has come back after her appointment to purchase a dress she passed over.

  When the realization sets in that a woman has walked away from her dream gown, she’ll try and right that wrong as soon as possible.

  “I’ll get it.” Natalie walks back to where she was standing just moments ago.

  She peers out into the rain, her hand moving over the lock on the door.

  “It’s Athena.”

  Athena Millett owns the flower shop next door. She’s a beautiful breath of fresh air.

  “Come in.” Natalie tugs her in by her arm. “What are you doing out in the rain?”

  Athena holds out a large bouquet of multi-colored pastel roses. “I’m making a delivery.”

  I contracted Athena to handle the flowers in the boutique. She sends someone over twice a week to freshen the bouquets that dot the interior of the showroom.

  Her beautiful flower arrangements help set the romantic mood of Katie Rose Bridal.

  “You could have waited until morning.” I look over the cute white pants and checkered white and blue blouse she’s wearing. “Why would you risk getting that outfit wet? Those roses are beautiful, by the way. They’ll look perfect in the showroom.”

  She takes a step closer to me, her blue eyes narrowing. “These aren’t for the boutique, Kate. These are for you.”

  I gaze down at the flowers.

  “Preston has excellent taste.” Natalie grazes her fingertip over the petal of a pale purple rose.

  “Preston?” Athena’s gaze volleys between Natalie and me. “Who’s Preston?”

  A knot settles in my stomach as I stare down at the breathtaking bouquet. “The man who sent the flowers?”

  Athena’s golden brown hair floats over her shoulders as she shakes her head. “You should read the card, Kate. He came in an hour ago and filled it out himself.”

  “Who came in?” Natalie’s lip purse. “Gage Burke?”

  Athena gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “He insisted I give them to you before you left for the day.”

  I pluck the small white envelope from the bouquet she’s holding.

  Turning my back to her and Natalie, I break the seal on the envelope with my fingernail and slide out the card.

  My gaze glides over the handwriting. It’s just as I remember it; hurried and crowded, but completely legible to me.

  Katie,

  I’m sorry for scaring you yesterday.

  I’m sorry for that day five years ago.

  I’m sorry for every day since.

  Gage

  “What does it say?” Natalie asks over my shoulder. “Gage sent the flowers, didn’t he?”

  I nod.

  “Are you all right, Kate?” Athena’s hand lands in the middle of my back, giving it a soft pat. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  “You didn’t,” I say in a voice that is too weak to be my own. “I’m fine.”

  “I can take the flowers and put them…”

  “No.” I pivot on my heel to face her
and Natalie. “I’ll take care of the flowers. I know just where to put them.”

  Chapter 13

  Gage

  Jesus.

  I stare at the doorway of Tin Anchor and the woman who just walked in.

  Katie is drenched to the bone. Her blonde hair is a wild wet tangle around her face from the wind and rain. The red skirt she’s wearing hugs her every curve and the white blouse clinging to her is see-through, revealing a white lace bra underneath.

  She’s never been more beautiful than she is at this moment.

  Her gaze scans the room until it lands on my face.

  Anger pouts her pink lips the way it always has.

  She marches toward me, the bouquet of roses I ordered for her, clutched in her fist.

  She slams the flowers onto to the top of the bar, scattering wet petals everywhere. Only a few heads turn in our direction. The baseball game on the wide screen TV is the main attraction tonight.

  Katie’s hazel eyes reach mine in a heated gaze. “What the hell is wrong with you, Gage?”

  Years ago, I would have stripped her bare and fucked the rage right out of her.

  Katie never went to bed angry. I was between her legs before any of our arguments reached their stride. I’d eat her to orgasm and then she’d ride me, taking whatever she needed from my cock; from me.

  Frustration was never the norm for her. It always took something big to push her over the edge from calm and peaceful to fury.

  Dammit, I wish I could touch her now, taste her, fuck her.

  “I see you got the flowers, Katie.”

  Her eyes widen. “I don’t want flowers from you.”

  I glance down at the tattered remains of the roses. “Duly noted.”

  “I don’t need flowers from you.”

  I know. She needs the impossible. She needs me to turn back time to a day five years ago when I ripped her heart from her chest and tore it into a million pieces.