Song: Where I Stood - by Missy Higgins
Deleted this because I was annoyed with negative reviews and all the crap that people had to say. Still not happy about it and I still don't enjoy writing as much. This is for those who stood by me. As for the rest of the stories I deleted...sorry but I don't have the time to put them back up or continue them.
Catherine Chandler never foresaw this moment. As she stepped back inside her childhood home, memories came flashing back in intervals. Happy memories were far and few but they were real nonetheless. The little girl in her ran around from room to room and found the joy she'd been missing most of her life but then a picture stopped her dead in her tracks. It was a family portrait of when she was a baby with her father and mother when they were happy. She would have never believed that her parents were happy before and it was just some myth people told her to make her feel better but there it was in a picture, complete with a frame and hung atop the mantle for everyone to see.
The picture was a lost treasure she'd forgotten long ago. Now she was almost a mirror image of her mother except the green eyes she inherited from her father. She had flawless porcelain skin and almond shaped eyes with full lips that knew how to fake a smile and she often did. Given her upbringing and all the sadness, she just had too much emotional scars and happiness just never seemed to be within reach for her. It was as if fate tortured her and the more she tried to live her life the more sadness she had to endure.
"Once upon a time," Catherine thought and quickly moved on from the picture of happiness. She didn't give it another thought
The tour of the house was put on hold and it didn't take much effort from her part to leave the house that was willed to her by her mother, whom she barely knew and in a town she once called home. Catherine quickly made her way through the rooms until she was standing on the wooden porch that wrapped around the huge house that she now realized, barely knew. It wasn't her home but her mother's, who willingly gave her up and never fought for her even after Catherine lost her father at a young age of thirteen. Since then she'd been living with her paternal grandparents who did their utmost best to keep her grounded given her complicated young life. They tried all they could to raise the rebellious teen only to be undermined time and again. If only she paid them attention while they were still alive and let them know that their effort was not in vain. She heard every word they said but never listened until now. And now it was too late to tell them how much she loved them and how much she valued their words of wisdom.
After exiting her new home, Catherine stood at the sidewalk and stared at the newly remodeled house that was all hers. Behind it the sun started to set and a melting pot of colors brought to life a small town. A portrait was being painted in front of her eyes and she simply took in the beautiful masterpiece in awe. Completely enthralled and wonderstruck by nature's beauty, she stood still in place as time grabbed a hold of her. For minutes she stood there silently until the sky turned dark and night set upon the town.
Bright porch lights guided her way as she finally found her own mind. Catherine headed out of the neighborhood and found herself mystified by the old town way. Neighbors greeted each other with a smile and a wave as they sat on their porches happily. The simple life amazed her and was jealous that she never saw that smile in people she knew in the city she resided in for years. There were millions of people in New York city yet it was difficult to remember someone being so happy as these people were.
A few people greeted her with the same affectionate smile and small wave but she found it difficult to reciprocate the feeling. These people were strangers but none saw her that way especially as they greeted her at her mother's funeral earlier that day. Greetings were followed by condolences and a friendly hug that she had no choice but to accept with a fake smile she put upon her beautiful face. She also managed to muster a few fake tears during the burial but a part of her knew that there was also truth behind those green eyes of hers as she watched her mother's casket being lowered.
After wandering around the neighborhoods, Catherine eventually found herself in the town center. She took in the scenery as she looked around with curiosity. A few shops were still open but the place was as lively as the city she grew up in. Crowds filled the lawn as they listened to a local band play a few songs she recognized from the early 1990's. Besides the music nothing else seemed familiar and she went on a with her business as she walked around the crowd and found a dirt track that led to what looked like a barn but cars were parked by the structure that was lit with many neon signs.
Curiosity got the best of her and instead of going back to the huge crowd standing around the gazebo that was watching thru band, Catherine walked along the dirt path and followed the trail of lights that lit the road. Laughter rose as she came closer and as she did, the structure was no more than a barn that was recently remodeled and covered in neon signs.
Catherine opened the saloon style doors and stepped into something that resembled the good ol' western movies she saw in her youth with her grandpa. She stared around for a moment and stopped when she realized most eyes were on her. She faked a smile and walked towards the bar at the opposite end. It wasn't what she expected but it was something she needed especially after the long day. Nodding to the only bartender, he came to her in a few strides. He had short brunette hair that was done in a messy spike and chiseled jaw that tightened as he spoke. His muscular arms was intimidating to those who didn't know him and his smile was either friendly or fake, depending on your state of mind.
"What can I get for you?" he asked as he looked her in the eye.
There was something tempting in his voice and his eyes stated something bold as his gaze remained on hers. "Something strong," Catherine answered.
He remained standing in front of her and studied her. "You look just like your mother."
Catherine faked a smile. "Thanks," she replied politely.
"It's none of my business but she loved you, Catherine."
She tightened her jaw. How dare he? Vanessa didn't even know her daughter save the four years they lived together as a family but was destroyed by a night of infidelity. As the story goes, the marriage didn't survive and a young daughter grew up without a mother. "You're right. It's none of your business."
"Sorry for your loss. Vanessa was an amazing woman with a good heart. Stay here long enough and you'll find out what she did for this town."
"The only real loss is that I never had a mother," Catherine replied angrily and turned her back at a stunned young man. She barely managed to catch her balance as she continued her way to where she came from and left a shocked crowd that had nothing but love and praise for her mother.
xoxo
Cursing the whole town, Catherine walked pass the crowd as she fought the tears but it wasn't because she was sad. It made her angry that everyone knew her mother but her. Everyone told her how kind and giving Vanessa was and how she was the best nurse they've had but Catherine never had the chance to experience such things. The only thing she got were cards on her birthday and on Christmas after her father passed away. Sometimes there were gifts but she never cared for them. By then it was too late and a teenage Catherine had made up her mind that she did not want anything to do with her mother. She told her grandparents to throw it away but instead they donated the clothes to families in need and hoped that their granddaughter would have a change of heart about her mother, who after years of absence was trying once again.
Catherine stopped when a flashing light caught her eye. Neon signs covered the windows and door of the small store. It easily attracted anyone from afar. She crossed the street and entered the small convenient store, which was most likely family owned, and was open until midnight. There was only one thing she needed tonight and the bartender clearly was not the one who was going to provide it. She walked straight to the back of the store and quickly scanned the glass doors of the fridge and searched for the one thing she wanted to spend her night with. She picked two bottles of white wine and headed straight for the cashier who was standing with a huge smile on his face as he noticed the beautiful woman walking towards him.
"Good evening, ma'am," he greeted her with that sweet and sexy southern voice.
Catherine couldn't help but notice the resemblance to the bartender, who she was still clearly furious at. She smiled politely at him. "Good evening."
"Hate to give away business elsewhere but the saloon has better wine choices."
"Not in the mood for company."
"Sorry ma'am and my condolences. Vanessa was a great woman."
Catherine nodded and bit her bottom lip to keep her nasty comment to herself. "So I've been hearing," she replied and did the best she could not to say anymore on the subject of her mother, a woman she barely knew but apparently the whole town did. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."
"No problem. Tell you what, on the house and grab any snacks you want."
"I couldn't," she answered.
"After everything your mother has done for me and my family, it's the least I could. I may never be able to repay her for all her help but I would love to be able to give back somehow. Please take the bottle of wines and anything else you would like."
"Thank you but I'll just take the two wine," Catherine answered as she pulled two twenty dollar bills out of her pocket and placed it on the counter in front of the cashier. She took the two wine bottles and left the store without another word.
xoxo
After finishing the first bottle of wine, Catherine felt lonely in her new house. She stepped out on the front porch with her glass of wine and heard the peaceful sound of the town save the crickets that made its presence known but it didn't bother her. It was much better than the noisy sound of the city. She looked around her surroundings and nodded at the newly built columns as she noticed the nice workmanship underneath the porch lights that guided her way around the huge house. Stepping further away from the front door, Catherine followed the lights as she walked on the porch that wrapped around the house as she took sips of her wine and drowned herself in the warm feeling of alcohol.
Underneath her bare feet was the smooth and varnished deck that was built with knowledge of carpentry and woodwork that was a dying breed in the big city she lived in. She marveled at each column that was designed carefully by crafty hands and talented fingers that took its time to design each one. Each post was different and she couldn't help but be in awe of the talent and time it took to chisel each one. Her favorite was the one that stood at the center of the back of the house. Imprinted on the wooden column was the city she now lived in and the two buildings that once stood strong. She traced the World Trade Center with her fingertips and took her time the same way the artist and carpenter did. Entranced by the magnitude of emotions that was put into each artwork, Catherine took the time to stare at all the columns of the house that made the foundation of the house. It was a historical story of the country and everything it had gone through from good and bad but mostly it was the latter.
Making her way back to the front of the house, she set her now empty glass on a small table beside one of rocking chairs that faced the streets. From her back pocket she pulled out a pack of cigarette, a habit she hated but couldn't quit, and pulled one out. She placed the filter end between her lips as she searched her pocket for her lighter.
"Those things will kill you," a deep and soothing voice came from the darkness of the porch steps.
"So does scaring the shit out of someone. It can cause heart attacks and may lead to death," Catherine answered sarcastically as she searched for the man with the voice she couldn't forget and escape.
Coming out of the shadows, the bartender she left earlier made his presence known as he stepped into one of the porch lights and leaned against one of the columns he built with his bare hands. "Never got the chance to introduce myself. I came by the funeral but had to leave early. Vincent Keller. I live across the street."
Catherine stared at him from head to toe and didn't hide the fact that she was staring at him. He stood tall and much composed for someone she didn't know. He had a look that seemed effortless especially in the sleeveless shirt he wore but was as handsome as the good ole country boy that knew his way around the farm. From his huge biceps and large hands to long lean legs that was tightly wrapped in worn out jeans and boots to match.
Vincent smirked and gave her one of those smiles that made every woman swoon. He wore it well and proudly as both of his dimples shown. Catherine replied with a smile of her own. He saw that look before and that smoldering look woman gave him never failed to let him know how much they wanted him or his body.
He played the same staring game with her and didn't bother hiding where his eyes were trailing. He started with her long legs that was barely covered in her denim shorts and went up to her low cut white tank top that left little to the imagination. Finally, he met her eyes which were staring into his. "I stopped by to give you this," he bent down and picked a paper bag from behind the post he was leaning against. His eyes locked with hers again as he stood up straight and held the bag with ease. "My nephew told me what happened at the store. He was only trying to pay his respects and felt awful about upsetting you. I also came by to apologize to you about what I said at the bar. I don't know you but I knew you're mother and that was my opinion of her."
"Yours and everyone in this town," she replied in annoyance and finally found the lighter she was looking for. She lit her cigarette and took a quick huff.
Vincent made his way to her with quick and long strides as she held the bag in his arms. Without warning he pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and stomped on with his paint splattered boot. "Those things will kill you," he said through gritted teeth and clenched jaw that stopped her from speaking her mind.
Catherine stared at him in shock. Never had she met anyone like him. He was much different from anyone she met and she wasn't sure if it was good or bad but at least he had the balls to do what she wanted to do for a long time but couldn't. Her bad habit for years was her worse enemy but she could never get rid off.
"Here's some food and your money is in the bag as well. There's a bottle of scotch in there, too. It's much better than that cheap wine you're drinking. That thing will only give you a headache in the morning."
Still in shock and somewhat fascinated by the handsome stranger, Catherine took a closer look at him. The country boy was more than just from the small town. He had military dog tags around his neck and was barely hidden underneath his white sleeveless shirt. He had a scar on his right cheek and brown eyes that had untold stories.
"Drink with me," she said. It wasn't a question but more of command.
Vincent stared at her plump lips, rosy cheeks then dared to meet her jade eyes that were full of emotions. "Pull up a chair and I'll get us a couple of glass."
Catherine watched as Vincent disappeared from her view and entered her newly acquired house but not before she took one last look at how nicely his jeans fit him in all the right places. There was certainly nothing small about the country boy and she appreciated everything about the man especially that flirtatious smile and his gentleman ways that she missed dearly. Her past lovers weren't exactly the gentleman type and there was definitely nothing gentle about their morals or values. She choose men that weren't capable of hurting her and breaking her heart as it was too broken to be in a loving and trusting relationship. The truth was, she didn't know how to be in one. For the longest time she kept her heart closed off and a built a wall to keep people at arms length. Her relationships were merely a physical attraction and fulfilled her sexual needs but it never lasted long. She pulled away as soon as they were getting too close and her heart felt like it was ready to love again.
"Scotch on the rocks," a deep and coarse voice broke her train of thought as he came back with two glasses filled with ice.
Catherine turned to him and stared at the man before her. His unruly hair didn't do justice to his handsome face and that smile of his could make any woman's heart race. She smiled back at him and nodded her headed. "Since you are the bar keep," she paused and took another good look at him from his worn out boots to disheveled hair and everything in between as she licked her lips. "I am at your mercy."
"Hmmm," Vincent moaned as he noticed that glimmer in her eyes that told him how much she wanted him and he wanted her as much as she wanted him. His eyes wandered to her bare legs that did all it could to tease him and followed the shallow breathing underneath her white top causing her bosom to rise and fall quickly. "Let's drink, shall we?" he placed the glass with ice cubes on the table and pulled a couple of rocking chairs beside it. "Sit," he said in the same commanding voice she'd used earlier.
Catherine, unbothered by by his tone walked pass him and sat on the empty chair he set for himself. "What are you waiting for cowboy? Pour me a drink."
Vincent turned and stared at the woman who was beginning to crawl underneath his skin. Catherine wasn't like the rest of the woman he met and she surely wasn't going to let him be the man that was completely set on his ways. In all his years he was always the type of man to get everything he wanted although he never wanted much and never did anyone challenge him the way she did. He smirked down at her and kept his eyes on hers as he grabbed the bottle of scotch he removed from the bag earlier and opened it with a satisfied look on his face. He poured the scotch in each of the glass with ice cubes and made no intentions of moving away from where he stood. "Cheers," he said as he handed her one of the glasses filled with scotch.
Catherine carefully took the glass from his hand without touching his fingers. She gave him a wicked smile that sent a chill down his spine as she teased him so. "What exactly are we celebrating?"
"Life. Love. Health. Happiness. All the things your mother wanted for you, whether you believe it or not."
True to her ways, the daughter who felt abandoned by her mother, she rolled her eyes and scoffed under her breath. "Let's not ruin the moment, cowboy," she said with a hint of frustration.
Annoyed by her attitude and the lack of gratitude towards her loving mother, Vincent stepped towards her and closed the gap between them. Using his free hand, he grabbed the arm of the rocking chair and slid it towards him with ease. Pausing to stare down at her, he used ample time to study her beautiful and unique features. He focused on her jade eyes that was staring intently at him and was unwilling to back down. Moving down, he smirked at her pouty lips that was evident of her annoyance at him. Stopping, he lifted his arms up, took a full swig of his scotch and slammed the glass on the table.
Catherine followed his lead and drank the glass of scotch without once wincing at the burning feeling that warmed her throat and stomach but like a lady she quietly placed her glass beside his where his hands clutched it tightly. Soothingly, she placed her soft fingers over his knuckles and caressed his large hands as their eyes met. He took one long breath and inhaled her lovely scent of flowers, most likely from the funeral earlier in the day but there was something else that he couldn't quite make out.
"Pour me another drink," Catherine said as she let go of his hand but that didn't break the connection they both felt towards each other. She knew that they were both on dangerous territory but neither one was willing to back away from it or each other.
Vincent cleared his throat and swallowed the lump in his throat or the lack of air his body was receiving. He wasn't quite sure anymore. There was something about her that he could no longer deny and a part of him wanted to know exactly what it was about her that easily shook his nerves which never happened before. Woman threw themselves at him often especially at the bar he owned but he never once took them up on their offer of one night stands with no strings attached other than wanting to satisfy his sexual needs. He declined offer after offer though his body said otherwise. Vincent Ryan Keller wasn't a one night stand type of man but his gentleman ways was slowly slipping away from him when she placed her hand on his as he held on tightly to the arm of the rocking chair.
"What are you waiting for cowboy?" she licked her lips as she slid to the edge of her seat and placed her legs between the worn out jeans but was still one of his favorite.
Vincent clinched his teeth as he saw that wicked smirk return upon her lips. Oh, how he would love to wipe it off with his lips as he held her body against his. He immediately shook the image out his head but his body shown other wise.
"Guess the good ole country boy actually does have a wild side," Catherine said in a flirtatious tone.
Vincent looked down at what she was looking at and blushed at the fact that his hormones got the best of him. "I need another drink," he tried saying coolly but the stammering in his voice couldn't hide the fact that he was on the edge of losing control and all because of some city girl who had him wrapped around her soft fingers.
"Let me help," Catherine volunteered. Her body pressed against his as she stood up and he made no effort in moving out of her way.
"I've got it," he barely managed to whisper. The proximity of their bodies was doing something more than just unnerving him. She had his head spinning in circles and his heart beating against his chest.
Catherine licked her lips and gave him another teasing smile. Everything about the man was much more pleasurable to look at especially up close and very personal as she felt his hardening bulge pressed against her stomach. She knew that she had him and he was ready to release under pressure, sort of speak. "I've got this round. Why don't you sit?"
"You stole my chair," Vincent finally found his voice.
"No one's stopping you from sitting there," Catherine replied in a voice he never heard before. There was something sultry about it and definitely sensual as she placed her hand over his chest. "Are you waiting for an invitation?"
Vincent stared at her like a man in a lust. He pressed his lips together as he mused the situation before him. He had a beautiful woman taunting him in every way and teasing every fiber of his body. Breaking the seal of his lips, he stuck the tip of his tongue out and moved it slowly from right to left as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Lifting her feet up from the floor, he turned them around until their current position was the opposite. Instead of setting her back down on the floor, Vincent sat down on the chair with her on his lap. "Sweetheart, pour us a drink."
"Sure thing, darling," Catherine mimicked the sweet southern drawl that lured her in and leaned over, giving him a good view, as she busied herself with pouring the scotch in both of their glass. "So, tell me about yourself, Vincent Keller," she told him as she placed his glass of drink in his hand.
Vincent leaned closer until his breath was on her neck, causing her to shiver. "Just recently, very recently," he whispered in her ear. "I haven't been quite myself, sort of speak. I have this beautiful woman who has me wrapped around her fingers. And I'm not sure exactly what she wants."
Lifting her head up to look at him. "Isn't it clear by now?"
"The only thing close to clear is this scotch in my hand and it's barely even that," he rotated his wrist, swirling the drink in the glass before raising it to his lips and quickly drinking it. "I'm a bartender in a small town. What's a city girl like you want with me?"
Catherine pursed her lips as she stared at him. His dog tags stuck out from underneath his shirt and she knew he was more than just someone who stood behind a bar serving drinks to patrons. "You're also a military man," she traced the line of his necklace before pulling it out of shirt.
"Was. Honorable discharge after serving my country for a decade. I had other responsibilities that I had to take care of."
"Your nephew?"
"Am I that easy to read?"
"Your heart is," Catherine answered then took a full gulp of her scotch. "You're a good man, cowboy. Don't ever lose it," she whispered as she placed her hand on his chest, against his racing heart. "Another drink?"
"Let's wait awhile. Care for another chair?"
Catherine shook her head. "I'm comfortable here. Would you like to me move?"
"No," Vincent answered. "Stay. We've got a lot to talk about," he said as he stared at her lips.
Catherine smirked at him as she slowly moved her hand lower to his abs. He tried catching his breath but failed miserably as he glanced down underneath her shirt. Her black lace bra was visible and he held on tighter to the arm of the rocking chair.
"You look like you can use another drink."
"Not yet," he answered though gritted teeth.
Catherine, ever the rebellious woman, ignored his answer. Vincent watched with interest and with slight annoyance as she leaned forward over the arm of the rocking chair and tried but sloppily poured another shot of scotch in their glasses. "You sure don't listen well, do ya?" he asked as he placed his hand over hers and steadied it. He helped her pour the scotch without wasting anymore but stared at her with much confusion albeit he was still taken by her and her stubborn ways.
Catherine shook her head once again. "Was never really good at it," she answered as she thought back to her childhood and how often she rebelled against her father and grandparents. "I guess it's just not my forte," she answered as she tilted her head to get a better look at his pensive face. Usually, she dismissed it and went about her business but something about him made her want to know more about the handsome neighbor and soldier.
Catherine mused and stared at the man, whose lap she was comfortably on. She noticed the same hard line on his lips as earlier when he pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. He kept his lips pressed together as she traced the scar on his cheek.
Talking was not their strong suit and given their silence neither wanted to break what was starting between them. She usually hated the uncommunicative type but there was something about him that drew her in to his mysterious aura. She once again eyed the dog tags around his neck. Carefully grabbing it, she held it between her fingers. "Marines?"
"Semper Fi."
"Always faithful. Oo-rah," she said confidently as she did when she was a small girl following her father around their small apartment in New York city where she was raised by a single parent trying his best.
Vincent looked at her quizzically. "Not many know our motto."
"My father was one also. Always told stories as if he never left the corps. Do you still consider yourself one?"
"Once a marine, always a marine. Oo-rah."
Catherine drew a long breath as she felt his arm circle her waist and pulled her closer against his body. "How about another drink soldier?"
Vincent nodded as he stared at her and thoughtfully tried to read her but came up blank as she quickly withdrew from him. She leaned away from him and grabbed her glass from the table. "What are you hiding from me?" he whispered in her ear as he leaned towards her and pressed his chest against her back. "Honey, you can tell me anything."
There was something about his accent that made her smile and missed the way her daddy would try to get her attention when she was younger. "Darling, there's nothing to tell. I just prefer alcohol with company especially when it's good scotch. Here," she sat back and took her place on his lap as she gave him his glass of scotch.
"What are we drinking to now?'
"You," she smiled and he responded with a smile of his own. "To all the soldiers, past and present. Thank you for protecting our freedom," she leaned against him and softly pressed her lips on his, catching him by surprise.
Vincent closed his eyes and let the kiss linger on his lips. He breathed her in and exhaled her scent. "What was that for?" he whispered and opened his eyes to meet hers staring intently at him.
"For your sacrifices," she replied before taking a full chug of her drink and placed her empty glass on the table. "Drink, while I get us more ice."
Vincent watched with keen interest as she rose from his lap and turned to watch him. He slowly took the sight of her in as he twirled the drink in his hand. Contemplating her next move he grabbed her hand as he raised the other and drank the scotch. Staring at her, he couldn't help but want her more. There was just something about her that he just couldn't let her go. "Sit," he softly tugged on her hand and she knew to obey him and not resist his command. It wasn't only just a kiss and they both knew it.
Catherine sat back down on his lap but without the smirk on her face that she loved to tease him with. "You're worried."
"Curious about you," he answered.
"I need another drink," she quickly responded.
"Why do you do that? Why do you keep pushing me away and keep me at arms length?"
Catherine shook her head and leaned away from him as she grabbed the bottle of scotch. She tried to keep herself occupied but knew that he was right. She could only get so close until her defenses were quickly put back up. How was it that he was able to dismantle her walls so quickly and keep her wanting more of him?
"You'll learn to trust me and let me in," Vincent whispered in her ear. He placed his hand over hers and steadied the bottle as they poured scotch in the empty glasses. He placed the bottle back down on the table but made sure to keep his hand on hers. Pressing his palm against the back of her hand, her smaller hand fit perfectly in his large and masculine hand that was more than capable of building a home and one he wanted to share with someone he loved. The warm unfamiliar touch made him miss something he didn't know he longed for. Suddenly everything about her was slowly breaking down the façade of a strong man who had it together but deep down he knew that there was something or someone missing in his life.
Fear, maybe. Catherine grabbed her drink and quickly consumed it. Following her, Vincent grabbed his glass and drank the scotch hoping to keep his impatience with her at bay but the alcohol only shortened his tolerance. He pulled her back to him and she turned her full attention to him as he placed her on his lap. He was getting tired of her games and teasing. Catherine stared at him and knew that look on his face all too well. She saw it a few times after she broke off a relationship.
"You're going to break my heart someday," he said in a heavy southern accent that wasn't hard to miss.
"It was just a kiss and you're already all clingy," she joked but the serious look on his face didn't change and his words rang in her ears over and over again. You're going to break my heart someday.
"Tell me it isn't true."
"That's the scotch talking, soldier," she placed her hand on his scar and pressed her palm on his cheek. Catherine studied the hard features on his face which he wore well and proudly. She traced the scar on his face which by the looks of it he wasn't use to. Suddenly she was the one lowering his defenses and leaving him vulnerable to her soft and feminine wiles.
Vincent lowered their hands and entwined it together. He held onto it as if it was something he wished he had all along. "I've never had someone look at me the way you do."
"Has anyone told you how handsome you are?"
Vincent took a deep breath before shaking his head in response. "No."
A smile flitted across her face as she watched his brows furrow in anticipation. Catherine leaned closer to him and pressed her body against his. "Let me be the first," she whispered as she placed her forehead on his. "Your handsome as hell, Vincent Keller," she exhaled softly against his lips.
"What are you doing to me, Catherine?"
"The same thing you're doing to me," she smiled as she ran her hand through his hair.
"What exactly is that?"
"Ahem," another voice interrupted as he cleared his throat. "Uncle."
"Aaron," Vincent's voice was higher than ever and the grip he had on Catherine's waist loosened as the guilt washed over him.
Catherine broke the stare first and searched for the source of the voice. She noticed it was the young man from the small store where she bought the wines earlier. Upon careful inspection she noticed the young man looked very much like his uncle minus the scar and the serious look that stamped itself on the elder Keller's face.
"Uncle Vince, uhm," Aaron paused and stared at the two who was sitting very comfortably on the rocking chair. "I was worried when you didn't come home but I guess my worry was premature. Sorry uncle, I didn't mean to intrude. I'm sorry ma'am and my condolences. I, uh, I should go," he said nervously as he shoved his hands in his pants pocket.
"Aaron, this isn't...she's...," Vincent tried to respond but was at a lost. He always tried to to teach his young nephew to respect women and to never take advantage while they were vulnerable but there he was doing the opposite. He should have known better and walked away before things got out of hand but his hormones and attraction to Catherine got the best of him. For some reason he couldn't just walk away like he did with the rest of the women that threw themselves at him.
"I'm Catherine. Friends call me Cat," Catherine answered as she stood up and held her own.
"I know ma'am," Aaron answered nervously. "I mean, Catherine. Uh, uncle, can I leave?"
"I'll see you at home, Aaron."
"Goodnight," Aaron rushed out of the porch without waiting for a response and disappeared into the darkness.
"Shit," Vincent quickly stood up and stared after his nephew who ran across the street and into their home. "Catherine, I'm sorry."
She quickly turned and faced the man who had the same look as earlier, serious and apologetic.
"Sorry? For what, exactly? Being part of the male species or being a worried uncle?"
"I should go after him and explain," Vincent said unsurely as he looked to her for answers.
"He's a young adult male. What exactly is there that he doesn't know about? I'm sure you've had the bird and the bees talk with him before."
"But he's never seen me with anyone before. I made sure of it."
"Good to know," Catherine replied sarcastically as she rolled her eyes at him. Just when she thought she found someone different he was just like all of the other guys she came across in her lifetime. The look on her face didn't hide her hurt feelings.
"Catherine, it's not what it sounds like," he took her hand and held it between his. "Listen, I made Aaron my priority after I was discharged. It took a while for me to get custody of him and I've been trying to make up for all the years I was away with the corps. That's it. There hasn't been any woman in my life since I've got him back."
"But there was."
"I'm only human," he answered. "Can't imagine a beautiful woman like you never had past lovers."
"Past, being the key word."
"But there was," he repeated her answer.
"Point taken. Go talk to your nephew."
"Thank you for understanding. I promise to come back tonight," he squeezed her hand gently but remained still.
"What are you waiting for?"
"I want to be sure that you'll be awake when I get back. I want to spend more time with you and hopefully finish what we started before we were interrupted," he licked his lips as he stared down at her with hooded eyes.
"Don't take too long, cowboy. I'll be here waiting."
Catherine watched with darkened eyes as Vincent made his way down the porch steps. The man was truly sculpted with precise perfection. From his biceps to his long legs that was barely hidden by his worn out jeans and those hands, oh how she wished that they were on her body and feeling every inch of her skin. She moaned to herself and licked her lips as she continued to think of all the things she wanted him to do to her. Vincent looked back as he reached the bottom of the steps. The porch lights barely revealed his own lust for her but she knew when she met his eyes.
"On second thought," Vincent whispered then quickly hopped his way up the stairs and made his way back to her. He quickly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "In case I don't see you again tonight," he didn't wait for a response or miss a beat as he leaned down and kissed her lips. It wasn't like him to do so but he couldn't help himself. Catherine wasn't like the other women he came across at his bar and she definitely made more than an impression on him. She affected him like no other has and was getting the best of him.
For the first time Catherine felt that spine tingling, butterflies in your stomach and heart palpitating rush when their lips parted and tongues met in a searing kiss. The taste of alcohol scorched their tongues but neither bothered to pull away to stop. The yearning only intensified as moans filled each others mouth and both didn't deny the satisfaction their bodies craved.
Small hands traced the outline of his body that formed the perfection that he was while long fingers memorized each curve of her body that teased and taunted him every second he was close by. Placing his large hands on the small of her back, he pulled her body against his and held her close as his kiss explored her mouth, tasting all she was willing to give him.
Placing her right hand on his chest, she felt his heart racing on her palm as her other hand clutched the hem of his shirt as the kiss grew more fervour and heated. Moving his right hand higher, he buried his hand in her hair as Vincent kept her close with his other arm. The kiss quickly became more passionate as he picked her up off the floor and easily carried her in his arms. Never breaking the kiss, Catherine wrapped her legs around his waist as he made his way across the porch to the front door. Trapping her between the pine door he built himself and his hardened body, he ground his hips against hers as he continued to kiss her lips.
Panting, Catherine placed her hands on his cheek and broke the kiss that she was sure was the best of her life. Smiling, she kissed his lips once more. "You surprise me, cowboy," she said breathlessly. "Didn't think you had it in you."
Vincent smiled at her as he set her back down on the porch floor. "Nothing scares a marine except...maybe...you," he whispered the last part of the sentence as he softly placed his forehead on hers and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Me?"
"Nothing is more scary than the unknown and that's the feeling I get when I'm with you," he exhaled loudly against her lips that he could still feel on his. The taste of her tongue still lingered in his mouth and he couldn't help but want more.
"Maybe that's the fun of it. Life is too short, marine. Live in the moment," she said in that teasing and alluring voice that hooked him in time and time again as she played with his dog tag.
"You should know better than anyone that no marine is the spontaneous type."
"You sure fooled me. That wasn't your lips on mine?"
"Moment of weakness," he said with clenched jaw. "Won't happen again. It's not who I am."
"Well whoever that was he's a helluva kisser. I guess I should look for him then since he's no longer here," she placed her hands on his chest and tried to push him away but he didn't budge an inch.
"Don't play with me, Catherine," he grabbed her wrists and placed her hands above her head. Holding them tightly he held her up against the door with ease. Never had he lost control before and it was taking every ounce of strength not to take advantage of her situation as he had her trapped between the door and his hardened body. He smirked at her the same way she continued to tease him.
"What are you going to do now?"
"If I was a lesser man," he pondered then continued. "I wouldn't think twice about what I want to do to you right now. The way you feel...against my body. I wonder," he paused and licked his lips. He stared at her plump lips that were just on his minutes ago. "I wonder," he exhaled against her mouth that he couldn't wait to taste again. "How my lips would feel on your skin...kissing every inch of you...tasting you," he thrust his hips forward, grinding it against between her thighs.
Catherine moaned and bit her bottom lip. She closed her hand within his and buried her nails on the back of his hands. She was now the helpless one and no longer in control of the situation.
"What are you waiting for?"
"If only I was a lesser man," he whispered against her lips. "But I'm not," he stated and let her go.
Catherine whimpered at the lost of his touch and the way his body felt against hers. Her body ached for his touch and the smoldering look in his eyes only made her want him more.
"I'm not one for games, Catherine. You want a hook up? There's plenty of those around here but I'm not one of those guys who settles for a night of fun and move on to the next girl."
Her lips stiffened to a line and that teasing smile disappeared from her face. "I need another drink."
"And then what? Another? How about you stop being stubborn and let me in for more than a damn minute."
"You don't know me," she said defensively.
"Honey, in case you haven't noticed, that's what I'm trying to do here."
Catherine shook her head and chuckled. "Why? Because you knew my mother? News flash, I didn't know her and vice versa. The woman you all knew?! Crock of shit. A great woman would never hurt her four year old daughter. She abandoned her family for another man. So save me all the bullshit and lecture about what a loving woman she was. You weren't the one hurt by her. I had no mother," Catherine said angrily as she walked pass him. She quickly poured herself a drink and didn't waste a second to consume the glass of scotch that burned her throat but didn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes.
"Catherine," he tried reaching out to her but she pulled her arm away from him.
"Leave, Vincent," she slammed her glass on the wooden table that he built along with the rocking chairs. The cheeky smile that teased him since he stepped onto the front porch was replaced with tears in her eyes. "Leave," she repeated.
"This isn't the end," he said before walking away from her. Vincent regretted every step he took back to his house but he knew that there wasn't much he could do tonight especially when they were both influenced by alcohol and pain.
Catherine waited until she was all alone before collapsing into one of the rocking chairs. Breaking down, she buried her face in her hands and cried. For the first time since hearing the news about her mother's passing, Catherine cried and mourned a loss. She cried for the little girl who never got the chance to know her mother.
The day Vanessa Chandler chose another man over her family was the day Catherine lost her mother. Growing up, she only had one parent she looked up to and the mother she longed for was quickly forgotten as her father, Thomas, did his best to be the parents she needed. Along with his parents help, Catherine's paternal grandparents, his daughter always felt the love every child needed in their life. The absentee mother she never knew was far removed from her life until one day she received a phone call that would bring her back to her childhood home.
Catherine wiped her tear stained cheeks with shaky hands and quickly grabbed the pack of cigarette off the table. Damn, the handsome neighbor. He wasn't going to stop her this time. She took a cigarette out and placed it between her lips. She needed the terrible taste of tears out off her mouth and the unwavering pain she felt in her heart to vanish just like her mother, who chose another man over her father and a four year old daughter.
Catherine struck a match and lit the cigarette without regret. She smiled, in fact at the adulterated action as she inhaled the poisonous smoke. Her body soon relaxed and she finally felt at ease as she tasted the one thing she'd been craving all day long. She exhaled the smoke, forming a cloud in front of her. Like a kid, she felt giddy and warm inside.
Screw the rest of the world. She knew what her heart felt and it wasn't the lost of a mother but the lack of having one most of her life. The only guidance she had while growing up was her retired marine father but that was cut short when he died during the attack on the World Trade Center. Thomas Chandler, like many others died while attempting to save lives. He went in with the rest of his crew but not all firefighters came out that day and since then Catherine has never been the same. The lost of her father hardened the teen and whatever Vanessa did to try to reconnect with her only daughter failed time and time again. Catherine didn't have a mother and she didn't need one. She had her grandparents and they did their utmost best to raise a rebellious teen, who grew up too quickly in a city meant for people with big dreams.
"Sorry," Vincent's voice broke her thoughts.
Catherine barely turned her head and only caught a glimpse of him through the corner of her eye. She leaned against the railing and continued smoking her cigarette that she favored over human interaction but a part of her was relieved that he didn't give up easily.
"I forgot to give you this. Your mo...Vanessa made me promise that you receive it. She wanted me to give to you personally. You can read it now or later but please just read it," Vincent placed a folded envelope down on the table beside the two empty glass and the half finished bottle of scotch. "She really loved you and wanted nothing but the best for you. Goodnight Catherine," he took one look last her profile before walking away. He hated to leave her alone but she was right. No one had the right to tell her about her mother. Catherine had to find out for herself and the letter was a start to mending her broken heart, which he wished he could help her with instead of doing it alone.
If Catherine only knew that her mother was the first to admit that she made a mistake decades ago but by then Vanessa already lost the two people she loved the most. Her affair with an old flame from her high school days was nothing more than a teenage dream and it quickly fizzled as soon as it started. One of her greatest regret was not going after her family until it was too late. By then, Thomas was weary of waiting and their only daughter had forgotten her mother's betrayal. They had moved on and left the only place they called home.
Vincent paused and turned back. For a few seconds he just stared at her and watched as the billow of smoke escaped between her pursed lips. He shook his head and stared on angrily. "Those things will kill you," he yelled at her. After losing his grandfather to lung cancer he swore that he would never lose anyone else to it.
Catherine finally took notice of him standing at the edge of the lawn. His features were visible with the help of a street light that stood tall over his large frame. His mouth was skewed to a line and his eyes concentrated on hers. She brought the cigarette back to her lips and took another puff before throwing the filter down on the ground and stomping on it. "Your years too late and so was she. Go home, soldier. There's nothing here for you to save."
"You can't deny it. There's something between us."
"Was between us," she crossed her arms defiantly in front of her as if telling him that he couldn't have her heart. It was too broken for her to give away and she'd be damned if some small town boy was the one to mend it. Besides men were nothing but trouble and full of broken promises. She's had too many of those in her life.
"You're going to learn to let me in. I promise."
Catherine scoffed and turned away from him. She needed another shot to take the nasty taste of the cigarette and to forget the words ringing in her head. No men was worth a heartbreak and she had no plans of staying in a small town with people her mother loved more than her.
Vincent looked on sadly as she turned her back to him and disappeared from his view. Just as he stated earlier, she was already breaking his heart. "Catherine," he called her name as he stuffed his large hands in his pockets. The silence between them only made him more impatient. "I'm counting to three then I'm going back up there."
Catherine ignored him once more as she poured herself another drink. In all her years there wasn't anything that alcohol couldn't cure and she was on the same road as her past self, who couldn't wait to forget the heartache and pain. She would drink too much until she forgot why she started to drink only to be found passed out on the living room couch by her best friend and roommate, Tess Vargas.
Vincent placed his hand over her shaky hand as she held the glass filled with scotch that she poured for herself. "You can't get rid of me that easily," he whispered in her ear and placed his other arm around her waist. "And I won't let you push me away. Marine, remember?"
Catherine loosened her grip on the glass of scotch and leaned back against his warm body. It was easy to give in and let him hold her as she was too tired of pretending to be strong but she wouldn't be who she was if she let him in so easily and she wouldn't be her father's daughter if she wasn't as stubborn as he was.
"You don't ever have to be alone again," Vincent continued as he held her hand in his. He couldn't imagine another woman's hand fitting perfectly in his the way hers did. "Catherine, I want to be here for you."
Catherine turned around in his arms and saw the most honest and sincere face she'd seen in years. There was only a few people she trusted in the world and unfortunately for her most of them passed away years ago. The look in his eye as she searched them for answers only made it more difficult to push him away and keep him at arms length. "You should be with someone who can make you happy," she told him but she hated the thought of another woman's lips and hands on him. She couldn't picture anyone else with him but she couldn't find the courage to open herself up and give her heart away. "Find someone who won't break your heart and leave you," she managed to whisper between tears.
"She's here standing in front of me and I'm not letting her go without a fight," Vincent wiped the tears off her cheek and softly cupped her face in his large hands.
Catherine shook hear head stubbornly. "I'm no good for you, Vincent. I'll only break your heart," she spoke softly and she placed her hands over his. A part of her didn't want him to let go but the woman who constantly pushed people away wanted nothing to do with the handsome southern gentleman who was slowly making his way to her heart.
"It's a risk I'm willing to take." he spoke with sincerity in his voice as his thumbs stroked her cheeks and wiped off her tears.
"You don't even know me."
"You're haunted by a past you can't let go," Vincent began.
Catherine nodded her head and held his hands tighter. For so long she wanted to put her past behind her but every time she tried to leave the past and move on with her life something pulled her back to the pain and lost she suffered as a little girl. She tried and tried but only to give in to the pain. Her rebellious phase was nothing but a mask to shield her broken heart. All she ever wanted was someone to love her for the daughter she was but her father's death took that away.
"Trust me, Catherine, I know what that's like. Been trying to get rid of old ghost and let it go but until now I never really knew what that meant. Can't start anew if you don't try and I want to, with you."
"And if I don't know how to?"
Vincent peered down her eyes as he softly rested his forehead on hers. "We'll do it together," he whispered against her lips. "Catherine, you don't have to keep hurting."
"I'm tired of being alone."
"I'll never leave you," he promised her then kissed her lips.
Pressing her palms on his chest, Catherine managed to push him off but as her eyes found his, she knew that she had little to no choice in the matter. "Vincent," she exhaled his name and the look of fear washed over her face. Her heartbeat raced in her chest and the butterfly in her stomach rose, though a part of her thought it could have been the many alcohol she consumed. She tightened her fingers around the wad of his shirt that she held and looked up to meet his eyes.
He lowered her hands and held her by her waist. "I will never hurt you, I promise."
Catherine shook her head as she kept her fist over his racing heart. Her father Thomas, the marine, made the very same promise when she was a young girl. Little did they both know that he would never come back home after he left for work on September 11, 2001. He broke a promise he intended to keep for many years but instead left her life too early. "You don't know that."
"But I can try if you give me a chance."
"What if..." she paused and stared into his eyes. A thousand things could happen and each one she feared but most of all was having her heart broken by the one person who saw past her façade of a strong-willed woman and saw her for who she truly was, fragile but not broken. "What if you turn out just like everyone else in my life?" she finally managed to get out. Everyone she ever loved and cared about was no longer in her life save her best friend Tess Vargas, who never left her side and vice versa. "People always leave, Vincent."
"I promise to never leave you. Catherine, please give me a chance and let me be there for you," he pleaded.
"I don't want promises and I don't need a prince or a knight in shining armor to save me, Vincent. I'm no damsel in distress. And this is no fairy tale."
"Don't you want to be happy?"
"As a Chandler, I've learned not to expect much. Every time I get my hopes up I just get my heart broken."
"Well, I'm no prince charming or knight in shining armor, so there's no high expectations there," Vincent laughed nervously. "But I know a thing or two on how to treat a lady especially someone as beautiful as you though I've never had the privilege to do so. Maybe someday...hopefully you'll learn to let me in," he said in a hopeful tone as he pulled her closer.
"I'm sorry," Catherine tried pulling away but he only locked his hands behind her back and held her firmly where she belonged, in his arms. "Vincent...please," she pleaded with him as she placed her hands on his chest in hopes that she could put some distance between them. She tried to pushed him away but he didn't move an inch nor did the look in his eyes alter.
"I'm not like everyone else. I won't let you push me away. But if that's what you really want then tell me. Say the words. Tell me that you don't want me in your life and that you don't feel the same way I do," Vincent slowly loosened his arms and eventually let it fall beside him as he let her go.
For a moment she felt free but the pain and despair wrapped itself around her as he took one step backwards. It wasn't what her heart wanted and it definitely was not something she expected to feel.
"I'll leave if that's what you want, Catherine."
There was no mistaking the look of fear in her eyes as he took another step further away from her. As her mind yelled to let him go, her heart screamed out for her to hold on and love him like she never loved before.
"Is this you want?" he asked as he took another step closer to the front steps of the porch. "Do you want me to leave?"
Catherine fought the tears as she tried to silence the voice in her head. Listen to your heart she kept trying to tell herself but the alcohol only intensified her emotions. Why couldn't things be simple? But the only one complicating her life was herself and her fear of getting hurt. Was it a risk she was willing to take? She shook her head. "I don't want you to go," she whispered. "Don't leave me."
"Never," Vincent answered as he took two long strides and wrapped her in his arms. "I'm never letting you go," he whispered in her ear as she returned the embrace and clung on to him as tightly she could.