Together Again Page 2

“Come on, Kerry,” I told myself impatiently. “You’re thinking too much.”

  I washed my face, glad the tears hadn’t made it get swollen, dried it carefully, redid my makeup and left.

  “Ready to open?” I called to Braden.

  He pulled on his jacket, smoothed down his hair where his bike helmet had made an imprint in it. Then he nodded.

  “Sure. Kerry? You open up? I’ve just gotta fix this table quickly…”

  I nodded, then went to open the blinds and then the front door. I was just checking my uniform in the mirror by the bar when someone came in through the door.

  “Um…hello?” a low, hesitant voice said.

  I turned around. I stared at him. It was Brett.

  CHAPTER 2: BRETT

  I hadn’t believed it was her. I thought it was me being hopeful, or just me being crazy. I couldn’t believe I had finally seen her again. I had often thought about her, often wondered where she was and how she was and how her life was going. And now I found her, here? Under my nose for the last three years?

  I had moved to Colorado Springs four years ago, the year after my life went crazy. How long had she been here? How many times had I seen her and not looked up?

  “Kerry?” I asked. “Sorry, miss. But you are Kerry Highgate, yeah?”

  She stared at me. I saw those red lips make a big “o”, and I felt myself grin. It was an expression whose familiarity was painful, lancing into my heart like a knife. I remembered her doing that when I brought a surprise back home—whether it was a dinner or a fancy item of jewelry. She always greeted it with the same disbelief and wonder. I felt my heart ache.

  “It’s me,” she said. Then she frowned. “Where have you been?”

  I laughed. It was so like her, just to come out with it. I wanted to kiss her. She didn’t look like she wanted to hear anything particularly romantic right now. She looked mad at me.

  “I’ve been… in town, mostly,” I said, with a hesitant smile. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her about what had happened in my life. I wasn’t sure what she would think, or if I could tell anyone those stories. I wasn’t sure if I could tell for more reasons than just how dangerous it would be.

  “In town. Like, here? Colorado Springs?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Like here. Four years ago, I moved here. After…” I trailed off, making a vague twitch that suggested the time that had passed without actually having to say anything more there.

  “What?” she frowned.

  “I said, I moved four years ago,” I said carefully. I didn’t want to go into it. She looked at me strangely.

  “Kerry?” Someone called her from the kitchen. A young guy, with a good build and a firm-jawed, earnest face. He was good looking. I looked searchingly at Kerry.

  I am dumb to think she’s single. Why would she be?

  “I’ll be there,” she called. She turned back to me, one brow lifted.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I was sorrier than I could say, for so many things. For walking out. For never telling her why.

  “You’re sorry,” she said slowly.

  “Yes.”

  “You walked out without saying goodbye,” she said tightly. Her throat was tense and her words came out choked. I felt the pain of it in my own heart. I looked at my hands, feeling terrible. I wanted to cry but couldn’t, so I sniffed.

  “I know,” I said. I frowned, looking around. “When did you move here?”

  “Two years ago,” she snapped.

  “What?” I asked gently. I still had no idea what I’d done. Fine, I knew what I’d done those years ago—been a complete jerk, was what I’d done—but now? All I’d done was walk in and find her!

  “Brett, I’m sorry,” she said. She shook her head. She looked tired. “I just…there’s so much we need to say.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “I want to hear everything about it. Say. Should we meet up somewhere?”

  She looked up and I felt my breath catch as I saw a hopeful look in her eye.

  “I have a half day on Wednesday,” she offered kindly. “You want to meet then?”

  “Sure,” I nodded. I didn’t stop to consider it. I just knew I wanted to see her again. “How about for lunch. At Hensley’s?”

  It was a crazy-expensive lunch place, and I knew all too well I couldn’t afford it. Not now. But I wanted to.

  “Sure,” she said. She smiled. I felt my heart flop in my chest, relief and joy and wonder mixing in me.

  “See you then,” I said. I reached for my phone. “Can I get your number?”

  “Sure,” she said again. She keyed it into my phone and handed it back. I smiled.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll message later.”

  “Good.”

  Her boss—I guessed it must be her boss—a guy in a chef hat with a big, friendly face—came out of the kitchen just then. He called her and I inclined my head in farewell and hurried out, not wanting to cause trouble for her.

  She smiled back.

  When I got into the street, I was dazed. I couldn’t quite believe that had happened. But it had. I had seen Kerry again.

  ***

  I waited impatiently for Wednesday lunchtime. When it finally happened, it sneaked up on me. I looked at the clock and noticed the time and rushed to get ready.

  “Come on, Brett!” I said to myself, impatient and amazed that I could have let the time sneak up on me like that. I ran to my closet and pulled out my one decent suit I had left. It had, at one time, fit me like a glove, a semi-formal one that I’d kept because it could stretch to formal enough for job interview status.

  Always assuming I take an interview.

  I had been living off my savings for the last five years. You wouldn’t have thought a guy could run up such massive bills on his own, but that was part of the dark story that I wasn’t even ready to share with myself, much less with anyone else. Not even her.

  As it was, I’d been selling off my assets. All I had left was this suit, pretty much. And the house on the coast. I had to do something about this soon, or I would be left with pretty much nothing left to live on. But so far I hadn’t done anything about it.

  I shrugged into the suit, noticing that I’d got skinnier and the pants didn’t fit like they did once. I chuckled mirthlessly, then ran my hands through my hair and checked myself in the mirror.

  Yes, I was tall, spare and slightly haggard. But I still looked okay. Or so I thought. Hoped.

  Was it good enough for Kerry to still like me? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was grateful—so grateful—to have gotten the chance to find out.

  As I drove to the restaurant in my old VW, I was surprised to find myself sweating: I was nervous. More nervous, I realized with a shaky laugh, than I would have been if I was standing on the starting line of a big race.

  “Come on,” I chuckled to myself. “What’s up with you?”

  I laughed. One way or another, I had to calm myself down. I could almost smell my sweat myself, its odor competing with the body spray I’d loaded myself with before I left the apartment. I didn’t want to meet Kerry smelling like gym lockers.

  I stopped outside the restaurant and made myself take deep breaths. I could almost hear my coach in my ear. Breathe slow and even, Brett. Slow, even. In. out. Right out.

  I hadn’t thought about my running career like this for years. I felt like the old Brett. The Brett who could be a champion. It was weird. If I thought about it, I realized that it was meeting her that had done that.

  I opened the door and got out of the car. Headed inside.

  “A table, sir?”

  “Um, I made a reservation?” I said through a tight throat. I really was nervous! These years of hiding out had gotten to me. I wasn’t used to interacting with people anymore.

  “What name, sir?”

  “Um, Randell,” I said.

  “Oh. Sure. We’ve put you at table four. This way, please…”

  As he led me through the posh, expensive-looking s
pace, I started feeling nervous again. I took the seat at the back and looked toward the door. It wasn’t so much the environment that unsettled me—in my old life I was used to places like this—but it was waiting for her.

  I started reading through the menu. I checked my watch, cleared my throat, and tried to calm down. I made myself study the menu carefully. I was lost in the decision of what to have for lunch—what was “trout three ways”, for Pete’s sake?—when someone said something.

  “Hello?”

  I looked up. My mouth went dry.

  “Kerry.”

  She was magnificent in a white dress—a knee-length one, semi-formal, maybe—its material a sort of lace, on a floral backing so that splashes of color showed in the gaps. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was so beautiful. That red hair flowed out around her shoulders, and her lips were a soft pink. Her eyes sparkled. I couldn’t look away.

  “Hey,” she said. She drew out the chair and sat down. I remembered my manners and half jumped up, recalling that I should have pulled the chair out for her. She caught my motion and giggled.

  “You look like you’re about to burn away from the start line,” she laughed. “It’s just me, you know.”

  I laughed. She wore crystal earrings and they caught the light, sparking and creating a rainbow of effects. They were outshone by those brown eyes and her dazzling grin.

  “It’s amazing to see you,” I said. My mouth really was dry and I looked around for the waiter, hoping to order water or something to fix my problem.

  “I can’t believe it,” she agreed.

  “Well, one of us should,” I joked. “Or we’ll never be able to convince each other it’s happening.”

  She laughed. The waiter appeared and I ordered water for the table. She nodded.

  Neither of us tended to drink alcohol—with our training schedule, it tended to make life harder. Not that it mattered anymore or now since it was only lunchtime. And not that I hadn’t done things that were worse for my health in the past few years. But it was weird that, of all the habits that had stuck, that was one.

  “So,” I said when she had gone. “Tell me about the last years.”

  “Why should I go first?” she pouted. I chuckled lightly.

  “You’re a lady,” I said.

  She laughed. “Well, fine. Not much to tell. After my ankle, I had to leave dance. That’s the end of the story, pretty much.” She looked at her hands, face pale and neutral.

  “Your ankle?” I asked gently. This was news to me. I hadn’t followed her career since mine started to end. The last time I had known anything about her work, she was the lead dancer at her company. If that had changed, which it had, clearly, why was news.

  “My ankle,” she said grimly. “The one I damaged.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. Her voice was flat and hard. I had the sense she didn’t want to discuss the ankle any further. All the same, I was interested. “You tore the tendon?”

  “Mm,” she said. “Thanks,” she added, smiling at the waiter who had brought the water. I felt a little pang in my heart that she could smile so easily at him.

  Stop it, Brett, I told myself harshly. She’s just being nice.

  “So,” I said when he’d gone. I took a sip of water, unsticking my tongue. Then I continued. “So you moved here?”

  “Mm,” she nodded. “Two years ago, like I said. It was hard, at first. Got a job,” she added. “So it’s okay now.”

  “Good,” I said sincerely. I wanted to know if she was okay, financially. If she was happy. And if she was single. But I couldn’t very well ask any of those things smoothly and besides, I didn’t have a right to know, or any way of acting on any of those pieces of information anyway. I couldn’t help myself financially, I certainly couldn’t help her happiness after being such a jerk to her, and I didn’t think it would be fair to throw myself on her—for so many reasons, not all of them purely my low self-esteem—if she’d have me. So I didn’t ask.

  “So?” she asked, lifting her water carefully and drinking, setting it down with an appreciative sigh from the refreshment of the coolness. “What about you?”

  I frowned and looked at the crisp white linen under my fingertips. This was dangerous water and anything I could say could only plunge me deeper in it. I thought about what to say.

  “Well, my career ended too,” I said carefully. “So I moved out here. Cheaper. Cleaner. Safer,” I added with a wry smile. Not necessarily safer, I was learning, though that was part of what I wasn’t going to tell.

  “Oh,” she said. She frowned, that pretty face twisting into a grimace. I wondered if she was going to ask me to explain more, but thankfully she didn’t. She looked at me instead. “So,” she said. “We’re two souls alone in Colorado?”

  I raised a brow. Suddenly my heart was thumping. “Yes,” I said. “It looks like it.”

  She was single? I couldn’t believe it! With that beauty, that character? That smile?

  “Well, then,” she said. I recognized that warmth in her voice and my stomach started to ache. She looked up and her eyes were smiling.

  “Well?” I managed to say. My throat had closed up, and I wasn’t sure what to say. It was stifling hot in here, though there was air-conditioning, and I hadn’t thought it was hot before. I coughed.

  “Well,” she smiled. “I guess we ought to order something to eat, yeah?”

  “Oh!” I laughed. I saw her eyes sparkle and knew that wasn’t what she’d been thinking anymore than it was what I had been thinking. But anyway, I thought, it was true: we did need lunch.

  We made our selections and when the waiter came back, we were sitting staring at each other. It was weird, but I felt like my heart had come home.

  “To eat, sir?”

  “Um…the grilled hake, thanks.” I had never heard of the fish, so why not try it now?

  “And you?”

  Kerry grinned. “I’ll take the trout, please.”

  “Very good.”

  As he cleared away the menus, I saw Kerry looking at me. Her eyes danced with humor.

  Laughing, I cleared my throat, about to ask her if she was as curious as I was.

  “I had to take it,” she blurted when he’d gone. “I just had to know what it was!”

  “I know!” I nodded. “I was trying to guess! I had to know.”

  We both laughed. Her pink lips parted in that sweet smile that made my heart thump wildly. It was as if those five years had all boiled down and disappeared, the way water does when it evaporates when you leave the pan on too long. It was just us, and we were together and it felt like it had simply always been that way.

  CHAPTER 3: KERRY

  I felt heat creep up to my cheeks in a blush as I studied Brett. He was even more handsome than I remembered him to be. His face was squarish, the cheeks slightly sunken since the last time I’d seen him, the eyes ringed with gray, but he was still something like Prince Charming on steroids.

  I watched his thin lips twist into a smile and I felt sunshine in my heart. It was amazing to see him again! He looked up at me from under those intense brows and I felt my tummy twist.

  “Kerry,” he said. I loved hearing my name in his mouth. It always had melted me and now was no different. I sighed dreamily.

  “Yes?”

  “I am so glad we met again,” he said.

  I nodded. “So am I,” I said.

  We stared at each other. I felt like his gaze was a touch on my skin, it was so intimate. I shivered. Under the table, I could feel the warmth of his legs beside my own. It would only take a tiny motion of mine to make them press together. I closed my eyes, feeling my heart thump.

  He smiled. His hand rested on the table and he moved it closer toward mine. I blushed. The heat that had started in my cheeks flooded through me, reaching my womb.

  “The grilled hake?” a voice said above us somewhere. We both jumped.

  “Uh, me. Please.” Brett said. He looked so startled that I couldn’
t help giggling. He shot me a look, his own face wreathed in smiles.

  The waiter didn’t blink. He passed Brett the fish and then set a long, thin plate down before me with three small platters on it. I looked at it.

  When the waiter had gone, Brett and I both looked at each other. He laughed.

  “Well?” he said, a wry smile on his face. “I really want to know about that.”

  “Me too!” I said. I put my napkin on my lap and raised my knife and fork, ready to try the first of the three little samples.

  He set his napkin on his lap too, and together we sampled our dishes.

  I closed my eyes as I chewed the delicious, salted, melting mouthful. The last time I’d eaten anything so well prepared had been three years ago, when I was still dancing. I was happy here—it felt like I had gotten a part of my soul back. One that was as essential as breathing, or a heartbeat.

  “Mm,” Brett commented. “This is amazing. Want to try some?”

  “Only if you try this,” I smiled.

  “Good!” He laughed.

  I leaned over and as delicately as possible took a small section off the end of his plate. I popped it into my mouth, chewing slowly. I saw him watching my lips with that hungry look that I could sympathize with—I could feel it in my own stomach, or in the lower reaches of my belly, clenching and tingling.