Chapter 3
A whisper of a moan passed Kate's lips, and it was as though Rick heard the pop of a starter pistol, except the race they'd entered was already well underway. Thirty-eight minutes it'd taken their driver to get them back to the house from the gallery, thirty-eight minutes of an itch they'd longed to but couldn't scratch. Sunset Boulevard was dreadful at almost any hour of any day, but it was absolute hell on a Friday night, and the relief she felt at finally being able to put her mouth on him was more than her body could contain.
The two fumbled their way through the happy yellow door and came to clumsy rest against a sliver of wall kind enough to catch them, Kate's back planted firm, Rick's thigh clinched between the greedy muscles of hers and working a degree of magic he had no idea of.
"I want to show you," spilled out of her in nothing more than a breath, because, somehow, Rick had managed to tune his position the very fraction she didn't even know she needed, and it was all she could do to speak at all.
With a last dizzying nip of her neck, he pulled back, met her eye. "That sounds very promising for me," he replied, granting the skin exposed by the titillating plunge of her blouse another once-over-another in the evening's long line of them. "I'm pretty sure I've already seen everything, though. You grow something new since we left here?"
"That's funny, Chuckles. Drop the mic. Come with me."
Kate took him by the hand, led him through the kitchen to a set of stairs off the back. She'd already given him a tour of the house, naturally, kissed him silly in each room-more than that in a few of them-but wherever it was she was bringing him, he hadn't yet been.
At the top of the staircase, Kate flipped a switch and illuminated a sprawling room of bright white, floor planks to ceiling beams, its walls peppered with vibrantly painted canvases of all sizes and shapes.
"I know you said I didn't have to, but I want to share this with you," she told him as they stood hand in hand, surrounded by creations unseen by all but a special few.
Rick scanned the room, his lips parted in awe. "These are yours? You painted all of these?"
"Most of them are. A few are by local artists, and I just haven't found a spot downstairs I like for them, yet. There are a couple of Hadley's pieces here, too. I was afraid of what she might do to me if I didn't agree to buy them from her," she added amusingly.
He slid his fingers from hers, wandered off toward one piece in particular that'd captured his attention. Kate remained where she was and watched him, the blush in her cheeks now one not of bashfulness but of profound warmth of affection.
"I've seen this one, when we were with Grady that morning," he said over his shoulder. "I remember."
Then, like a visitor floating the hushed halls of a city art museum, he moved on, one canvas after another, drinking in some longer than others for reasons he didn't share and she didn't seek, before coming back to her.
"What's wrong?" Kate asked, but softly. Though she wasn't certain why, suddenly his heart felt like delicate glass in her hands. "Rick…"
"A part of me was nervous about seeing you after all this time," he confessed to her surprise, because nothing about him had given her any indication of the sort. "All I carry around with me every day is ugliness. It's all I see, and to stand here with you and all this beauty you create… I don't want to be someone who brings darkness into your life, Kate."
The ache in her heart was instantaneous. She stepped into him, drew her arms around him.
"Listen to me, okay? Listen. Rick, I work in fantasy, I don't live in it." She cupped his cheek with her palm and he laid his hand over hers, turned and pressed a kiss. "You're able to walk into that ugliness every day and come out the other side because you're filled with light. That light is what I see, and it's real. It's the reason I fell in love with you."
She gave his shirt a gentle tug, guided him to a sheet draped over something to shroud it. "I haven't finished it, but go ahead, look at it." Rick narrowed his eyes in feigned suspicion. "Just uncover it," she pressed.
There on the canvas he saw his face staring back at him, as clearly as if he was looking in a mirror. It was crafted cleverly of shapes sewn together by contrasting colors, each bold and bright, most notably his eyes, which, he noticed straight away, were painted in different hues.
"For me, this is you," Kate informed with a tender smile. "I wanted to know what would come of you if I breathed you out, and this was how my heart answered."
Rick pointed, but in his captivation managed only two words. "The eyes-"
"One blue and one green. When I look at you I also see myself." He turned and wrapped her in his arms. "I don't see darkness when I'm with you," she whispered into his ear. "I don't want you to ever think that."
"I love you," Rick told her twice, because once could never be enough, and affirmed it with a kiss every bit as earnest as his words. "So, I know we're sort of having a moment here but, um, since you did let me into your secret artist's lair, care to let me get you naked and give this painting thing a whirl? With you as my model, who knows? I could be the next Picasso."
"I think the world's doing just fine with one Picasso," Kate came back without a blink, gliding her tongue across the lips he'd left tingling.
"Okay, then how about Plan B? Care to let me get you naked, carry you over to that desk in the corner, and do unspeakable things to your body?"
The notion of Plan B most definitely got flowing whatever juices the kiss hadn't.
"You know how fond I am of your brush and its strokes, Detective Castle," she deadpanned but broke almost immediately, and with her flung over his shoulder, they laughed together as he whisked her across the room.
xxxx
"Stop it. I told you I'm not giving it back," Kate reaffirmed when she caught him still eyeing her as they strolled the beach in Malibu the next morning. "It's the only thing of yours I have. Besides, it looks better on me, anyway." That wasn't even a bit true. He looked sexy as hell in it, but she never tired of poking at him.
Rick curled an arm around her shoulder, left a kiss at her temple. "You have my everything. But, I will give you the second part. I especially enjoy how the hole in it falls right-"
She knew precisely what he enjoyed about the hole in that old Zeppelin tee she'd swiped from him in New York, and she would've been lying if she'd told him the very thing hadn't crossed her mind when she'd slipped it on that morning. Never did her body hum with greater fervor than when his eyes were on her, and how she relished the sensation.
"Yeah, I bet you do," she cut him off with a pinch of his waist, "and you still can't have it back." She slowed her stride and came to a stop, let the remnants of an incoming wave crawl over her bare feet. "So, what do you think?" she asked him of her much cherished sanctuary, the place she ran to when her mind craved calm.
He gazed out across the ocean bobbing beneath the layer cake of grey clouds. "I mean, it's no Hudson River, obviously, but I guess I can see why you like it," he joked. "Okay, I kid because I'm envious. You live in a beautiful world out here-the beach, your house, all of it."
Kate let her body lean into his. "I do, but New York has Coney Island," she said, recalling pleasantly their first date. "And it has you."
"I've already given up on the shirt. There's no need for that sweet talk business now." He gave her a playful nudge, got them moving again.
"Actually, um, I've been thinking about something that I wanted to talk to you about."
Rick's brow perked. "Does it involve the whipped cream you mentioned that time? Don't think I've forgotten about that. Or that I ever will."
She slid him the side-eye, kicked her foot up and splattered his jeans with water. "You know, sometimes I really do feel sorry for Jordan," she ribbed.
"Fine, I'm listening," he mumbled like a scolded child.
All at once, she found herself jittery, the sort evidenced by the flutter of butterflies in her belly-the welcome sort.
"I wonder how you might feel about my coming out to New York for a while, after we wrap the show. I was thinking about maybe trying to get into a theater project or something." It took a few seconds for her to realize Rick wasn't walking beside her any longer. "What are you doing?"
"I think my legs stopped working somewhere around 'New York.'"
She went back for him when he made no attempt to move, looped her fingers around his belt loops and pressed into him. "That's okay. As long as the important parts of you still work, we can get through this." She winked, and he settled his forehead against hers. "I know your work has to be there, mine doesn't, and if cared about any of the Hollywood BS it thinks I should, the decision might've been a difficult one, but I don't. Right now, I just want to be near you again."
"You want me to put in a word with Captain Montgomery, see if I can score you your old gig back at the precinct until you get on your feet in the big, bad city?"
"Right, because I was so helpful at what the first time around, seducing one of his star detectives? I think I'll be okay, thanks." He propped a finger beneath her chin, announced his intention with but a flick of his eyes, and seized her mouth. "Was that your way of telling me you're good with the idea?" she asked when they parted, her legs likewise weakened.
"Good with it? Are you kidding me? It's the best idea I've heard since the whipped cream. See what I did? I didn't forget it. I brought it back around again." He scooped her up without warning and spun her around as rain began to fall. Despite the weight of all he'd carried there with him, he hadn't felt that light in months, as unburdened, as joyful. "I love you, and I'd love it if you'd come."
She pinched his ear with her teeth, apologized for it with her tongue. "It's raining. Time to go. Take me home and I'll let you try."
Rick's hand dove into the pocket of his jeans when he set her down on the sand and pulled out a pack of gum. He popped two pieces before she could even blink.
"Think of it; you in my bed, naked, all the time. Oh, I'm going to need so much gum for this, Shaw's going to hate me. She'll have to pull the car over at a bodega on every block. I'm sure it's wrong how much I'm enjoying that thought."
"Hey." She flicked him on the arm when he became lost in it. "I can manage just fine on my own if standing out here in the rain is how you'd rather get wet."
He swiveled his neck calmly, casually. "It's only sprinkling. You don't want to finish our walk? Just kidding, race you to the car!" he shouted and took off running, left her there shaking her head.
xxxx
"Finished rehearsal," Kate's text message to Rick read that afternoon. "Picked us up something special for dinner. Bring your appetite home with you," she added, but-and though he couldn't know it-didn't mean entirely for food.
She'd been back in New York exactly a month to the day, with the play she'd been cast in a week, and had experienced no pangs of regret about either. What she wanted most she had in waking up each morning and falling asleep each night beside him. In following her heart, there'd been nothing she'd given up or left behind, and celebrating that had been tickling her mind all day.
It was just after 7 p.m. when she heard his key in the lock, her focus instantly pulled from the business of preparation for their meal. She'd showered again, because the effect of her scent on him always aroused her, and covered only in a robe, recognizing the slim chance they'd actually make it to the table before they made it to the bed, at least if she had anything to say about it.
"Hey, wow, something smells incredible in here," Rick remarked as he approached, moved in behind her and sampled the fresh skin at the back of her neck. "Whatever's cooking does, too." He reached around and plucked a sliver of carrot from the pile. "Tell me how rehearsal went and then kiss me like you mean it."
"You're in a good mood," Kate noted, selfishly pleased. "Jordan get a paper cut or something?"
Grabbing her at the waist, he spun her, accidentally loosening the sash of her robe which trickled open. "I'm not sure I like what it is you're insinuating, so this kiss better really do it for me." His gaze drifted south and lingered with the fortuitous charity of his grip. "The outfit's a good start, by the way."
"Special anniversaries deserve special outfits," she purred, her mouth submitting absent any further coaxing.
It was the beep of the oven's timer and nothing more that separated them. Had it not, the kitchen floor might well have jumped in front of the bed in line.
"Now, I'm aware this might get me into some trouble, but… anniversary?"
Kate reached over and silenced the alarm she'd set, punched in a new. "It'll get you into something, but not trouble," she quipped. "It's just, I realized earlier that I've been here with you a month now, that's all, and it made me feel happy. I thought it might be nice to commemorate it."
Rick opened his arms and silently summoned her. "You make me feel happy. You make me feel more happiness than anyone or anything ever has, and all I want is to spend the rest of my life making you feel the same."
A grin he couldn't see crept from her lips all the way up to her eyes.
"We have thirty minutes," she told him with a peek at the clock. "I'm going into the bedroom. You go into the fridge and get our present. Then come find me." She drifted off, the robe now dipped below the line of her bare shoulders. "And bring both, one for each of us."
His hand flew to the refrigerator's handle and he yanked it open. There, alone on the top shelf, sat two cans of whipped cream, wrapped in a bow, staring him right in the face.
xx
