Fourth of July was no exception. Clowns roamed around with balloons for the kids. Vendors of every kind lined the sidewalk. The scents of burning charcoal, grilling meat, popcorn and cotton candy all floated on the light, warm breeze. There was a general hum of quiet chatter, occasionally interrupted by children’s giggles and squeals, lending the night an air of energy and excitement.
She couldn’t share that sense. Once again, her life had become a three-ring circus. A week had passed since Michael showed up in the bookstore. Since the newspaper photo. Every day she’d gotten more calls. Her phone rang at all hours of the day and night, sometimes as late as two in the morning. They were always the same — creepy, heavy breathing. At first, she and Lisa put them off as pranks, assuming some kid was getting his jollies. Now she was beginning to wonder. They’d begun calling her cell, too, and had increased in sheer number until she was fielding sometimes two and three per hour. Maybe she was paranoid, but it sure seemed like someone was stalking her.
“Anybody ever call you Kitty?”
Michael’s rich baritone voice shivered all the way down her spine, weakening her knees, and Cat’s grip tightened on the wooden banister. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he left her father’s bookshop last week. Since he’d invited her to his parents’ barbeque.
She darted a glance back. His shadowy form filled the gazebo’s entrance. Every inch of her tingled with awareness. She hadn’t been able to stop craving being near him, longed to be back in the blissful place where there was only him and her. Before the real world had entered her fantasy, shattering what the night had been.
Suddenly there he was, close enough to touch.
“You weren’t at the barbecue. I was hoping you’d be there.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She’d seen the unmistakable longing in his eyes, the silent question when he invited her father. She’d almost gone. She ached for the knowledge — to see his life, where and how he lived. To learn about his character, how he interacted with his family. To see the man behind the façade. All things words could never describe. “If I’m being honest, I was afraid to come.”
The desire to see him had been overwhelming. It meant he’d become more important than he should have, that she was beginning to allow herself to think of him beyond the one night, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.
A loose board creaked beneath his weight, and Cat gripped the rail tighter, her ears homing in on the sound of his footsteps growing nearer. Every shuffle of his boots across the planks made her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest.
When the creaking stopped, his heat radiated against her back, sending goose bumps shivering along her skin. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t have to. His closeness, his very presence, electrified her nerve endings and her body hummed with need to feel the hard lines of his body molding against her back, his strong arms enveloping her. Bringing her back to the safe, comfortable place, where she could be whoever she wanted without worrying what part of her mother’s past hung over her head.
“Afraid of what?” His voice came as quiet as the night, but it was oddly calm and soothing, returning her to the ease and comfort she felt lying in his arms.
“Facing you.” The ease with which the words fell from her lips surprised her. How much she wanted, needed, to finally answer the question that burned within her. “I wasn’t completely honest with you either that morning. You hid your identity from me that night for the anonymity. The chance to be just yourself.”
“Yes.”
“So did I. My whole life I’ve been tainted by the life my mother chose. When I moved into town nine years ago, it got bad. Kids are kids, you know? But I was tired of it, so I left. When I came back three years ago, people had finally forgotten and moved
She couldn’t share that sense. Once again, her life had become a three-ring circus. A week had passed since Michael showed up in the bookstore. Since the newspaper photo. Every day she’d gotten more calls. Her phone rang at all hours of the day and night, sometimes as late as two in the morning. They were always the same — creepy, heavy breathing. At first, she and Lisa put them off as pranks, assuming some kid was getting his jollies. Now she was beginning to wonder. They’d begun calling her cell, too, and had increased in sheer number until she was fielding sometimes two and three per hour. Maybe she was paranoid, but it sure seemed like someone was stalking her.
“Anybody ever call you Kitty?”
Michael’s rich baritone voice shivered all the way down her spine, weakening her knees, and Cat’s grip tightened on the wooden banister. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he left her father’s bookshop last week. Since he’d invited her to his parents’ barbeque.
She darted a glance back. His shadowy form filled the gazebo’s entrance. Every inch of her tingled with awareness. She hadn’t been able to stop craving being near him, longed to be back in the blissful place where there was only him and her. Before the real world had entered her fantasy, shattering what the night had been.
Suddenly there he was, close enough to touch.
“You weren’t at the barbecue. I was hoping you’d be there.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She’d seen the unmistakable longing in his eyes, the silent question when he invited her father. She’d almost gone. She ached for the knowledge — to see his life, where and how he lived. To learn about his character, how he interacted with his family. To see the man behind the façade. All things words could never describe. “If I’m being honest, I was afraid to come.”
The desire to see him had been overwhelming. It meant he’d become more important than he should have, that she was beginning to allow herself to think of him beyond the one night, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.
A loose board creaked beneath his weight, and Cat gripped the rail tighter, her ears homing in on the sound of his footsteps growing nearer. Every shuffle of his boots across the planks made her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest.
When the creaking stopped, his heat radiated against her back, sending goose bumps shivering along her skin. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t have to. His closeness, his very presence, electrified her nerve endings and her body hummed with need to feel the hard lines of his body molding against her back, his strong arms enveloping her. Bringing her back to the safe, comfortable place, where she could be whoever she wanted without worrying what part of her mother’s past hung over her head.
“Afraid of what?” His voice came as quiet as the night, but it was oddly calm and soothing, returning her to the ease and comfort she felt lying in his arms.
“Facing you.” The ease with which the words fell from her lips surprised her. How much she wanted, needed, to finally answer the question that burned within her. “I wasn’t completely honest with you either that morning. You hid your identity from me that night for the anonymity. The chance to be just yourself.”
“Yes.”
“So did I. My whole life I’ve been tainted by the life my mother chose. When I moved into town nine years ago, it got bad. Kids are kids, you know? But I was tired of it, so I left. When I came back three years ago, people had finally forgotten and moved
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