Compass

by Deborah Bladon

  “He may kill me.” He tugs a wallet from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Two hundred dollar bills hit the top of the bar. “Thanks for the advice, Gage.”

  I pop a brow, surprised that he knows my name.

  His offers his hand to me. “My dad used to own this place. I’m Daniel Lawton.”

  The pieces fall together at the mention of his name. He’s Marlin Lawton’s son. Marlin owned Lawtons before I bought it from his estate and rebranded it as the Tin Anchor.

  I take his hand for a hearty shake. “I’ve heard great things about your dad from his regulars.”

  “Believe every word.” He stands and straightens his gray suit jacket. “One of the last things he said to me was to grab hold of Gina before she slips away for good.”

  “He was a smart man,” I say as my phone chimes.

  He smiles. “He’d be glad you’re running the ship now. Your advice is right on par with his.”

  It’s a compliment I welcome.

  “Get back to your girl.” He motions to my phone. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

  I take the few steps to my phone and glance down at the screen.

  Kate: Dinner tomorrow?

  I’ll take it.

  Gage: Shrimp scampi works for you?

  Her response is quick and expected.

  Kate: It works.

  Gage: I’ll see you at 7.

  I punch out a text to Zeke telling him that he’s got tonight to himself because tomorrow I need him.

  I don’t care if he can’t make the switch. I’ll close the bar down if I have to. I’m not missing a chance to cook Katie dinner.

  Chapter 35

  Kate

  Silence is a mother’s worst nightmare.

  My mom would say that to me when I was a teenager hiding in my bedroom while I daydreamed about the captain of my high school’s football team.

  She started repeating the phrase right after I moved to Manhattan when I’d go days without calling her.

  She left me a voicemail today. She only said those six words before she hung up.

  I’m on the phone with her now.

  “Is it a boy, Kate? Is that what’s got your attention?”

  I look through the dresses in my closet trying to decide which one to wear to Gage’s apartment.

  Maybe a dress is too formal and I should keep it casual in jeans and a blouse.

  I sigh. “I date men, Mom, not boys.”

  “Of course.” She laughs. “They’re boys to me, Kate. If they’re young enough to be my son, I consider them a boy.”

  Gage is not a boy.

  “Are you busy at the store?” She effortlessly shifts the topic of discussion. “You’re still selling enough dresses to keep the doors open, aren’t you?”

  “More than enough.” I smile as I answer.

  My parents doubted whether I could run the store on my own after I bought it.

  They gifted both Eldred and me with a generous amount of money after my mom’s dad passed away. I used the bulk of mine to fund my business.

  I purchased the store’s inventory from my former boss, signed a new lease deal with the building’s landlord, and hired a contractor to handle the remodeling.

  I’ve kept my head above water since.

  “We’re very proud of you,” she says quietly. “Is anything else going on that I should know about?”

  If I bring up Gage, she’ll launch a defensive attack about why she never told me that he reached out to her and my dad after our broken engagement.

  I don’t have the time or the inclination to get into that with her tonight.

  Gage is expecting me to be at his place in less than an hour.

  “I need to run, mom,” I chirp back, trying to keep my tone light to mask the nerves racing through me. “I’ll talk to you in a day or two.”

  “Or seven?” She laughs. “I know you too well. You’re off to meet a man.”

  “Mom,” I say with an exaggerated bite of frustration in my voice. “I have to go.”

  “Fine, dear.” She sighs. “I’ll call you the day after tomorrow. Try to pick up.”

  “Bye, Mom.” I yank my favorite little black dress from its hanger.

  She exhales softly. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed that the next time we talk you’ll tell me you found the one and you’re in love, Kate.”

  I grip the phone in my hand as the call ends.

  Knowing she can’t hear me, I say aloud what I’ve been too scared to admit to myself, “I did find the one eight years ago and I think I’m still in love with him.”

  ***

  A little more than an hour later, Gage flashes me a smile when he sees what I have in my hand.

  I look past him to where a bottle of the same red wine is sitting on his coffee table.

  I laugh. “Is this a case of great minds thinking alike?”

  He takes the bottle from me. “You don’t still drink this, do you?”

  I take in how relaxed he looks in a white long sleeve sweater and blue jeans.

  His feet are bare. His hair is neatly combed. It’s a sharp contrast to the light growth of beard on his jaw.

  Unlike the inexpensive wine we used to drink, Gage has only gotten better with age.

  He closes his apartment door behind me, motioning for me to take a seat on his sofa.

  “I haven’t bought a bottle in years.” I cross the apartment to the living room. “The last time was back in California.”

  It was three weeks before my life collapsed. I’d stopped on my way home and picked up a bottle so we could celebrate the fact that we were almost man and wife.

  I remember that night vividly.

  Our toast to our future was followed by a short discussion about kids.

  Gage asked one last time if I was sure I’d never change my mind about being a mom. I told him I was one hundred percent certain.

  Less than a month later he found out he was a dad.

  “I’ll check on dinner and crack this open.” He holds up the wine bottle. “Or should I say I’ll unscrew the cap?”

  I drop my purse on the coffee table before I take a seat, nervously crossing my legs.

  I sense his gaze on me, so I look up into his green eyes. I see familiarity there and promise.

  “You being here means the world to me, Katie. Thank you for coming.”

  I glance down because the intensity in his eyes is too much.

  “Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.” He walks away, leaving me to wonder what tonight holds.

  Chapter 36

  Gage

  I’d say this feels like old times, but it doesn’t.

  The woman sitting on my sofa has been to hell and back on a ticket bought and paid for by me.

  I destroyed her heart five years ago.

  I can’t even begin to imagine the full impact that my decision to leave had on her.

  Yet, here she is.

  She’s open to more. I sense it in her kiss and the way she looks at me.

  I open the bottle of wine and pour the deep red liquid into the only two wine glasses I own.

  I live with few things.

  The bulk of the furniture in here came with the place.

  I have half of a closet of clothes, a few pairs of shoes, and a dozen or so pictures of my daughter.

  Two are hanging in frames in the hallway. There’s another on the wall in my bedroom. It’s of the two of us. Kristin is sitting in my lap, looking up at me.

  I stand in front of that picture and pray to the heavens above on a daily basis. My plea is always the same. I want time with my daughter. I want a chance to watch her grow up. I want her to fall asleep in the second bedroom down the hall.

  I didn’t bother placing any of the framed photos in the living room. I’m rarely in there. Most of my time at night is spent asleep or at the bar.

  I fill daylight hours working out, doing administrative work at Tin Anchor or stuck in the armchair in my bedroom reading books.
/>   It’s a quiet existence. I see it as a bridge to what I really want.

  A month ago that bridge took me to a future where I could see my daughter whenever I want. That’s changed since I walked into Katie Rose Bridal.

  I have no fucking idea if my life here is going to be uprooted and replanted in London, but I do know that I need to consider Katie in all of this.

  It’s presumptuous, but I sense that she’s feeling something for me that mirrors what was in her heart before I broke up with her.

  “Are you burning the shrimp scampi again?” Katie asks from where she’s sitting on my sofa.

  I glance over at her. She’s peering over her shoulder at me. Her long hair is tumbling down her back.

  She’s a vision; a picture of innocence and bravery.

  The most beautiful woman alive is what I see when I look at her.

  “I burned it once.” I laugh. “I would have thought you forgot about that by now.”

  She smiles. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Gage.”

  Neither have I.

  I remember everything including the way she mewls when I suck on her clit and the claw of her fingernails down my back when I’m driving my dick into her.

  I want that tonight.

  I need it.

  I hope to hell that she wants it too.

  ***

  She stopped herself after half a glass of wine.

  I admit I was grateful. I wasn’t looking for a repeat of the other night when the martinis melted her common sense.

  I know if she would have been stone cold sober that night that I wouldn’t have made it past the doorman of her building.

  I want to win her over on a level playing field. I don’t need the advantage that alcohol brings.

  “I liked the dinner,” she admits. “You can still cook shrimp scampi.”

  I mastered a few meals back in California.

  I upped my kitchen game in Nashville when I became a dad.

  The nights I had Kristin, I’d cook for her. The kid may have requested macaroni and cheese at every turn, but I broadened her culinary horizon.

  By the time she was seven-years-old, seafood topped her request list followed by an array of vegetarian dishes.

  One of the things I miss most about being shut out of my little girl’s life is the moments spent in the kitchen cooking with her.

  “Will Kristin be coming for a visit soon?” Katie’s gaze shifts from my face to the half-full wine glass in front of her.

  The woman is a mind reader.

  She noticed me slipping into my thoughts. I’m not surprised that she instinctively knew that I was thinking about my daughter.

  “I hope so.”

  I want her here in New York so I can take her to the observation deck on the top of the Empire State Building and a matinee of a Broadway musical.

  Visiting Manhattan is on Kristin’s bucket list.

  It’s well below meeting her favorite musician and getting a tattoo, but there are only so many dreams a dad can make come true.

  “I’d like to meet her,” Katie says quietly. “I like kids a lot.“

  I pop a brow. “I saw that when you were holding your friend’s baby.”

  She lets out a sigh. “I love Arleth. I could hold her for hours.”

  “She looked peaceful in your arms.”

  Katie’s hand moves to the back of her neck. “We’ve both changed a lot since we broke up.”

  I know where this is heading, so I don’t stop her. I let her say what she needs to say.

  “I think about being a mom.” Her voice catches in her throat. I watch her swallow past something. I’d call it nerves since I witnessed firsthand the stress she was under in college and I’ve seen this reaction from her dozens of times. “Being a mom isn’t what I thought it was.”

  “Olivia taught you differently?” I ask to lessen the weight that she’s carrying.

  She’s trying to tell me that she’s softened her stance on having kids. I’m not surprised. Time changes a person. It sure as hell changed me.

  “Do you like being a dad?” She shifts the focus to me. I’ll gladly grab the baton if it helps her ease into whatever she’s feeling.

  “I love it,” I answer without a beat of hesitation. “It’s everything.”

  Chapter 37

  Kate

  When I walk back into the living room, the table is cleared and Gage is sitting on the sofa.

  I took longer than I wanted to in the bathroom.

  I didn’t have to do anything other than to splash cold water on my face and catch my breath.

  Hearing him say that being a parent is everything filled me with a rush of emotions.

  I excused myself and headed straight for the bathroom.

  I used the time in there to think about the past and what the future might look like.

  “Come sit with me, Katie,” he says, turning to look at me.

  He’s lowered the lighting in the room and soft music is streaming from a small speaker on the coffee table.

  It’s the same mood he used to set before he’d bathe me.

  Gage would draw me a candlelit bubble bath every Sunday after he cooked dinner for me. Sometimes he’d pour me a glass of wine or a tumbler filled with my favorite diet soda.

  Every week he’d have a book of poetry in his hands as our favorite songs played from his phone.

  He’d sit on the floor next to the claw foot tub while I soaked in the warm water.

  The candle never cast enough light to read by so I knew that the poetry pouring from his lips came straight from his memory.

  Yet, he’d flip through the pages, asking which poem I wanted to hear next.

  After the bath, he’d dry me, take me to bed and fuck me until I couldn’t breathe.

  We’d fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

  I take a seat next to him, taking care to leave some distance between us.

  His gaze falls to my legs. “Your scar has faded.”

  I glance down at the jagged line on my skin. It’s difficult to see in the dim light, but I know exactly where it is. Gage does too.

  “Time heals all wounds,” I quip, falling back on a piece of my mom’s sage advice.

  His gaze trails up my body to my face. “Does it?”

  A month ago I would have said it didn’t, but I can’t anymore, so I don’t. “I think it can.”

  His hands run up and down his muscular thighs. “Has it healed your wounds? The wounds I caused?”

  “I wish you would have told me,” I say quietly. “You should have told me about Kristin when you found out.”

  “I should have,” he agrees with a nod of his chin. “I didn’t think it through. If I could turn back the clock, I would have told you everything that day.”

  He can’t turn back time. I can’t either.

  “I regretted it almost immediately,” he confesses, scrubbing his hand over his forehead. “I’ve regretted it every minute of every day since.”

  “It’s the past now.” I sigh. “We can’t go back and rewrite history.”

  His gaze scans my face. “You’re right.”

  Our eyes lock and for the briefest moment I consider telling Gage a secret I’ve been carrying with me for years.

  When we lived together, I was an open book. I told him everything knowing that he would accept all of my truths.

  “Dance with me, Katie.” He holds out his hand as a Frank Sinatra tune fills the air. “You used to love this song.”

  I slide my palm against his and let him pull me to my feet. “I still love this song.”

  “I still love you,” he whispers so softly that I can barely make it out.

  “Me too,” I want to say back, but I don’t.

  He guides me to a small area next to the sofa. Taking me in his arms, he rests his hand on my back and tugs me close as we sway to the music and the very first song we ever danced to almost eight years ago.

  ***

  I don’t stop him when
his hand glides down my back. It lands just above my ass. I move closer to him, knowing that’s what he wants.

  It’s what I want too.

  I didn’t come here thinking that I’d sleep with my ex-fiancé, but it’s the only thing I can focus on right now.

  We’ve danced to seven or eight songs. I lost count after the third. Most of them had a much higher tempo than the Sinatra song, but we haven’t stopped our slow dance.

  He presses his cheek against mine. His voice comes out in a low growl. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Emotion wraps itself around my heart. It squeezes until a breathless sound comes out of me.

  He inches back to look in my eyes. “Have I told you that you’re even more beautiful now?”

  I shake my head. A smile that blooms from somewhere deep inside of me floats over my lips. “No.”

  “You are.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “You’re breathtaking.”

  He is too. The Gage who left five years ago was gorgeous with a mop of hair and a lean body, but now I’m looking at a striking, muscular, hot-as-hell man.

  It could be confidence or maturity or maybe time has sculpted him into who he is today.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he growls. “You want that.”

  He’s not asking, but I don’t care.

  He knows I want to kiss him. He must know that I want more.

  His lips meet mine in a slow, deep kiss.

  Any hesitation I might have brought with me tonight melts under the brush of his tongue against mine and the taste of his breath.

  He breaks the kiss. “I want you, Katie.”

  I look into the same green eyes that I stared into when he broke through my virginity under a bite of pain. They are the eyes that held fast to mine when I had my first orgasm with him deep inside of me.

  My home is in those eyes.

  “I want you,” I whisper back before I press my lips to his again.

  Chapter 38

  Kate

  I follow Gage without question when he takes my hand and guides me down the hallway.