“Can you take care of the rest?”
It’s just the excuse I need. “Sure thing. ’Night.”
They say their goodbyes, and then it’s just me in the room, carefully putting the cards back into a pile and straining to hear the sounds of Cat. There are stairs in the kitchen that lead to the second floor, which means she has no reason to come back this way, but I’m stubbornly hopeful she’ll be unable to resist the lure of chance.
That hope is why I should get the hell out of here, but I cannot make myself leave the chair. A few more minutes pass, and no matter how slowly I go, there are only fifty-two cards, and they are all tucked neatly in their pack. I’m out of excuses, but still I listen, searching the air for a sound.
And just as I give up, I hear something: the tread of footsteps growing close. I jerk up from my seat, throw the deck in the center of the table, and stride out of the room, my mind already spinning with options from innocent to profane—
Only it’s not Cat.
It’s Wyatt.
The disappointment sits in my gut, and in that second, I’m honest with myself. Once again, my tendencies toward self-destructiveness have gotten the better of me. Luckily the heavens are looking out for me, saving me from a sure disaster.
I nod. “’Night, Wyatt.”
He nods back. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”
I take my leave, shaking my head as the humid breeze washes over me, clearing my head. I never fucking learn, do I?
I move down the stairs and over the path to my cabin. What is wrong with me? I’ve got a good thing going here, doing the work I love. The McKay operation ticks every box I’ve been searching for: challenging work that makes me so tired I can finally sleep, a growing business, and good people.
I’m more settled than I’ve been in a long time. Wyatt and Jackson are happy and I have a chance to put down real roots.
So why the hell am I willing to sabotage my future just to get laid?
I hit the front porch of the cabin and turn around, taking in the vast landscape before me. I take a deep breath to steady myself.
And get the wind knocked out of me instead.
Cat’s there, standing on the second-floor balcony that must be off her bedroom. She’s changed and wearing a cotton nightgown that ends at her knees. She looks otherworldly, her hands on the rails, like something gothic and untouchable. Until this moment I hadn’t realized the cabin faces her bedroom, and isn’t that just a particular brand of fresh torture?
Our eyes catch, and even from the distance, I can feel the current between us.
Her hair is down, and it swirls around her shoulders. To my surprise she lifts her hand and waves.
I wave back, my heart nearly beating out of my chest.
She turns, and her back is bare as she returns to her room through the French doors.
I roll my shoulders, as if that alone will shrug off her effect.
That’s it. As soon as I get a chance, I’m going to go out and find someone I can lose myself in for a couple of hours. Maybe it’s not the healthiest option, but it’s the only solution that comes to me right now. As far as destructiveness goes, it’s the lesser of two evils. It’s been too long, and I can only hope part of Cat’s appeal is due to deprivation.
So as soon as I can slip away, I will.
Because untouchable and out of my reach is exactly where Cat McKay needs to stay.
5
Cat
The following week, I walk into the dive bar just outside town and slide into an empty seat at the bar. It’s Friday night, and my uncle Beau’s bar was packed, but I didn’t want to go there. After a long, grueling ten days, I need to get out of the damn house and away from everyone—Caden in particular.
If I went to Uncle Beau’s, someone would have decided to go with me, or I’d have run into people I know and had to stand in the swarms of patrons that crowd his place all weekend.
I’m in no mood for that.
I’m in the mood to drink in silence and turn it all off, even if it’s just for an hour or two, where no one will bother me.
The bartender gives me the up and down before saying in a gruff voice, “What’ll it be?”
I don’t hesitate.