A/N: Katie's a famous singer and returns home upon her mother's request. No Lana or Emma in this and sadly, Jim is dead. But there's a slight bright side, you'll see. Hope you enjoy xx Mariah
Katie stared at the faded yellow house, taking in the chipped paint, swing on the front porch and the gutter hanging at a rakish angle, it was definitely a bit worse for wear, but still standing, just like her. Her father had built that house with his own hands. She had been born there, as had her sister. She knew with crystalline certainty that they had been happy here. She crammed down the tumult of emotions that rioted in her heart, took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other until she reached the front door.
As she muscled her guitar case and suitcase through the front door, Katie stopped and breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of lavender and woodsmoke and that indescribable home smell that was both of parents, even after all these years, made the tension in her shoulders relax. Damn, it was good to be home. And it pissed her off.
Having spent the last five years traveling around the world, she was amazed at how just the smell of a place and the quality of light could be so unequivocally home. And how a house, even an empty one that she had fled from like it was on fire, could feel like a solace. He came unbidden to her mind in the wake of the word home, but she gently pushed the thought of him away. That was done now. She'd destroyed that piece of her, obliterated it so thoroughly that it had taken years to let the dust settle, to rebuild her heart enough to risk coming back here.
When her mother, now living abroad, had called to suggest they sell the old house, Katie had gritted her teeth that this job had fallen on her shoulders. But she also knew it was time. It was probably also time to try to forgive her mother, but she wasn't even sure what she was supposed to forgive Melinda for at this point. For when she disappeared into her grief after her father died and left her at barely eighteen to practically take care of her little sister? For running away and leaving her alone again?
Katie sighed. She needed to tackle one thing at a time and today was the house.
As she finally pulled herself through the front door, like a cork released from a bottleneck, she was shocked when Mackenzie's head poked out of the kitchen. Katie's guitar case slipped off from her hands and landed with a thump on the floor.
Her little sister's face lit up with surprise and delight as she asked, "What are you doing home?"
"I had a break in my tour," but she didn't finish the rest of her thought, not knowing how to say that it was just time. Time to come home, deal with the house because their mom had finally asked her to. Time to face her demons. Time to deal with the disaster of a broken heart that had made her a refugee from the place she loved most. Or should she tell her sister that she'd been dreaming of their home for the past six months?
She couldn't kick the niggling thought that somehow her father had wanted her to come home. Since she couldn't say any of those things, she pressed her lips together and shrugged.
"Sorry, of course, you don't need a reason, Katie. It's your house too! It's just such a surprise to see you," Mackenzie said, squeezing her into a tight embrace. "A wonderful surprise," she added with a smile, "C'mon, I'm just making lunch."
Perplexed, Katie followed her little sister into the kitchen. She was grateful that the twenty-two-year-old had kept an eye on the house, but she was just surprised that there was any kind of food in the house. But as her sister placed a steaming mug of strong black tea and a bowl of yogurt with strawberries and granola in front of Katie, she was nothing but grateful. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten something so simple and good.
"Tell me everything," Mackenzie said breathlessly, settling across from her at the worn kitchen table. "I feel like we haven't talked in a year, but it was like last week. I thought you were supposed to be opening for Ariana Grande for the second leg of her tour too?"
Katie glanced up just as her sister's blond hair fell across her face, and she watched for one excruciating second as her sister's eyes flicked onto hers. That same pain-strikingly blue that she hadn't seen in so long. Their father's eyes.
She stared at the strawberries, watching the morning sun glistening off them like jewels until her breathing steadied and the tears receded. "Yeah, I still am. There are three different artists. I have a few weeks off while the other two perform before it's my turn again," she said around the lump in her throat, "So tell me everything I've missed."
Mackenzie gave her a small sympathetic smile and launched into a monologue detailing wonderfully mundane goings-on in their small town of Grandview. After the better part of an hour and an entire pot of tea, Katie felt caught up on all the local gossip, all except the person she most craved and dreaded hearing about.
"How's Ned?" he asked quietly, trying and failing to maintain eye contact as she added, "How's married life treating him?"
It had only taken about a year and a half after her midnight flight to find out that Ned had gotten married. Whether she admitted it to herself or not, it was one of the reasons she'd stayed away so long. She knew what she had done, had no delusions that he was hers, but she couldn't, even after five years away, imagine Ned as anyone else's.
Mackenzie's throat clearing made her look up. "It's not. I think him and Amber split up last year. The divorce was final like six months ago."
"You're kidding," she sighed, her shoulders slacking. Even if she hadn't wanted Ned married to anyone but her, but she didn't want him to get his heart broken again either. "What happened?"
She shook her head, almost incredulously before explaining, "Yeah, it was messed up. I heard around that she cheated and screwed some guy he worked with," she waved a dismissive hand and added, "I've seen him around. I've been living here the past year and he's dropped by a couple of times." She looked up curiously and Mackenzie smiled. "Every time he asks about you."
Her mind was racing, but the only coherent thought that seemed able to fight its way through was that she needed to see Ned.
Mackenzie glanced up at the clock and exclaimed, "OH shit. I am so going to be late for work." In a tornado of clothes being stripped off, she watched her sister grab her scrubs that were sitting on the nearby couch and once she had them on, Mackenzie pulled her blond hair up into a pony and she grabbed her purse."I probably won't be home until around midnight. I'm working the ER tonight." Then her sister was out the door.
After a few hours of sitting in her thoughts about Ned, Katie began to pace. She should just let sleeping dogs lie. Just deal with the house and leave. But she felt like she needed to see him. Maybe she could just stroll by the police station. Maybe he'd be sitting at his desk, reading a file and drinking coffee. Maybe she could catch a wisp of his voice if she walked inside for a second, a tendril of his warm laugh, a flash of his green eyes… Maybe that would be enough.
Swiping her keys off the table and sliding her feet back into her well-worn black ankle boots, Katie hopped into her car and drove towards town, admonishing herself to slow down.
It was a couple of miles and she chastised herself the entire way there, telling herself that just because Ned and Amber had split up that was no guarantee he was single. And besides, it didn't matter whether he was because he probably never wanted to talk to her again anyway after how she'd treated him. She turned back towards the house twice, horrified by the memory of her behavior the last time she saw Ned. But the promise of seeing him again, after she'd wished for a second chance with him a thousand times over the past five years, was impossible to ignore.
When she reached the police station, she ducked into the alley feeling like she might throw up. She took several slow, deep breaths to calm her racing heart, employing the same techniques she used before stepping onstage. This didn't have to be a big deal, she assured herself, just an old friend dropping in on a buddy.
Staring down at her faded jeans and old, wrinkled, and now slightly sweaty, Ramones t-shirt with the hole in the left armpit, she wished she'd thought to change her clothes before barging in on him. But she was here now and if she lost her nerve, she wasn't sure she'd have the guts to face him again. Tucking the wisps of hair that had come loose from her bun behind her ears, she pushed off the wall and walked up to the police station door and slipped quietly inside.
The station was bustling, as usual, many different people sitting by desks talking to different detectives and policemen.
When Katie didn't spot Ned as quick as she'd like, she was about to spin around and run away but saw someone stand up and walk toward her. She cursed herself for not leaving quicker. Now she had to at least talk to one person.
"Hey, can I help you miss?" A tall, nice-looking red-haired policeman asked.
"Ah, yes. I'm actually looking for Officer Banks." She said rather quietly, tucking her head. She did not need someone to recognize her and ask for a photo. Not right now. "Is he around by any chance?"
The man nodded. "Ned should be around here somewhere," the red-haired man said. "Find a seat and he'll be out in a minute."
As Katie sat in a nearby chair, her face heated as she thought of seeing Ned again. She could actually hear her heart throbbing at the memory of his hands caressing her bare skin, sliding around her body to press her against him. She closed her eyes, remembering for one fleeting second how it had felt to belong to him.
Her eyes snapped open as someone dropped something. A stack of files, that sounded like paper mill getting caught in a tornado. And then he was standing there, twelve feet away, with his arms crossed. Katie's breath caught in her throat, she felt frozen in place. Was it possible that he was even more handsn? Ned's face had lost the boyish roundness and his shoulders, always broad, were straining against the cotton of his uniformed blue shirt as he bent down to help pick up some of the scattered papers.
As he was busy picking up the papers, she studied him. Though his smile was as warm as ever, it didn't light up his eyes like it used to. And those eyes. She had dreamed of them thousands of times, though she knew every expression that lay hidden in their stormy-sea depths. But the weariness she saw there, accented by the dark circles like thumbprint bruises beneath his eyes, was new.
The urge to wrap him in her arms, to run her fingertips over those dark smudges, to feel his solidity under her hands came on so swiftly she was grateful there were several people dividing them lest she probably had lunged across the counter and clung to him like a desperate barnacle.
This was a terrible idea. Why had she come here? What did she think was going to happen? That Ned was going to welcome her home with open arms? Forgive her on the spot for her heartless betrayal, her cruelty. This was madness, barging in on him at work. She had needed to see him and she had. He was everything she remembered, more even, but it was madness to think he'd want to see her.
She stood up slowly, gently turning and going toward the door.
"Katie?" he asked, his voice as rich and deep as she remembered it. Ned was still kneeled down, picking up a piece of paper, but it sounded as though he was standing beside her.
She froze, feeling like she'd been caught sneaking away from a crime scene. She supposed she had. She squared her shoulders and turned slowly towards him, bracing herself for whatever he had to say. God knew she deserved it.
But when her eyes met his, it wasn't the expected fury she saw. It was worse, it looked more like hurt.
"You're back?" he asked.
She nodded, feeling incapable of explaining the nuances of her return when her voice didn't seem to work. He waited, standing up and walking toward her, she realized she needed to respond. She cleared her throat and rasped out, "I came back to deal with the house. My mom asked me to."
"What does that mean? Get rid of it?" He asked.
"I honestly don't know. It's too hard for my mom to be there. Last we talked she was in Morroco," she sighed. "Mack seems to be living there and the house was done and paid for before my dad died, but I don't know."
It was overwhelming, talking to him like this. Choking out words when her heart felt like an open wound and the only true things she could communicate to him would require her lips on his skin. Why had she come here? What had she been thinking? She feared she would burst into tears at any second. She needed to get out of there before she broke down and begged his forgiveness in front of the entire town.
Seeming to sense her distress and miraculously wanting to spare her, he said curtly, "I'll stop by later."
"That'd be great," she breathed in relief giving him a weak smile of gratitude.
He nodded, his expression unreadable, as he turned back towards his colleague.
Ned arrived at her house as the sun was dipping below the tree line. It was still sticky and warm, but the sky was starting to soften. Katie had showered and wore a faded red sundress that she found in her mother's closet with one of her dad's old jean jackets. It made her feel different, like herself but with facets of her mother and father. And she realized that she carried precious pieces of both of them inside of her. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she thought of them both as people again, not just fragments of her broken heart.
She watched from the front porch as Ned slid out of his new-looking pick-up truck, solid and graceful, sure of his body in a new way. Instead of looking at her, he was shading his eyes and staring up at the roof.
"That gutter's come loose," he said impassively, gesturing with his chin.
"Hello to you too," she said. Katie felt raw and sweaty and ridiculous for having worn the dress. What did she think was going to happen? That he was going to love her again? Her careful preparations seemed ridiculous now, embarrassing even. "So, what, you're a contractor now?"
"No, just pointing it out. You've never been very good at seeing what's right in front of you." He shrugged. "If you're gonna sell the place, you'll need to fix it up a bit."
"I don't have to do anything." She felt defensive on behalf of the house and possibly herself as he walked up to the wall beside the porch.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged, running a finger down the cracked siding.
"Did you come here to lecture me?" She felt close to tears again, but this time they were born of angry, hot, frustration.
He chuckled mirthlessly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not entirely sure why I came, but it wasn't to lecture you." He glanced at her then. "I could help if you wanted. Tomorrow around 2:00. Do you have a ladder?"
She bit back her natural response that she didn't need his help. This was all going so wrong so quickly that it made her dizzy. She had meant to apologize, to have him kindly and gracefully forgive her for breaking his heart. And then she would leave Grandview probably forever, leaving all of her demons behind. But Ned was walking back towards his truck, glancing over his shoulder with eyebrows raised in question.
"I don't know," she said, realizing he was waiting to hear if she had a ladder.
"That's fine, I'll bring one. See you tomorrow." And Ned climbed back into his truck.
She stood, baffled, fists planted on her hips as he backed out of the driveway in a graceful arc.
When he stopped to switch gears, he was stalled a few feet away from her and she could see the golden hairs on his forearm as he leaned out the window, his eyes finally meeting hers as he said, "That's a really nice dress on you, Katie."
Then there was nothing but the percussive thudding of her heart as he drove away. "Damnit," she muttered to herself under her breath, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the wood planks of the porch.
She ran through the brief altercation she'd just had with him, feeling like a perfect asshole for not even apologizing for the last time she'd seen him almost six years prior. Instead of wallow in it, she spent the evening packing up random boxes of things; books off the bookshelves, her father's office that no one had been in since he'd died. She tried to focus on each task and keep her mind from wandering. It was after midnight when she collapsed into her childhood bed in complete exhaustion.
Waking up late the next morning, she felt oddly hungover, like the emotions of the day before had depleted her in some vital way. She made a mug of tea, took it outside and walked around the house taking inventory, much like Ned had. He was right, there were a number of things that needed to be addressed. She shouldn't be surprised that the place had fallen into disrepair. Her father wasn't around to do anything about it anymore. She made a list and drove into town for supplies.
As she piled caulk and gutter joints and a new drill into her cart, Katie responded to the various nods and smiles of greetings from her neighbors. She was surprised at how welcome she felt, how easy it was to fall back into place. When her old classmate Nicole rang her up at the register, she gushed about how excited she was for her next album, how thrilled everyone in town was that she'd done so well out in the world, but that it was great to see her home. She wasn't thrown off guard when more than five people asked to take a photo with her.
When she got back to the house, Ned's truck was already in the driveway. Damn, he was early.
"Hey," she said as she grabbed the bag of tools from her car.
"Hey," he responded, looking a little contrite and markedly more friendly than he had last night. He walked forward and took the bag from her arms. "Ready to get started?"
Her body hummed with his closeness and the brush of his hand against her arm. She swallowed hard and nodded.
Katie was no slouch; she'd been helping her dad fix things around the house since as long as she could remember before he was gone. But as she and Ned crossed things off the project list, she found herself marveling at how surprisingly handy he'd gotten. As he pulled off his sweaty shirt revealing an equally sweaty white tank top that showed his broad shoulders, thickly muscled arms that tapered down into those immensely capable hands, she couldn't stop herself from wondering what else he might have gotten better at since she saw him last.
Her emotions felt like a tetherball match, swinging frantically back and forth between the sadness that each memory brought and the distraction of having him so close.
Taking a shaky breath, she dropped the screwdriver and headed into the house for water. While she drank a glass of water, she leaned against the doorway to the dining room absently running her fingernail over the growth chart her dad etched into the wood as her and her siblings all grew. There were probably over fifty different marks from over the years and she smiled at where the first one for her was.
The memory of standing against in the doorway, a look of intense concentration on her father's blue eyes as he marked her height on Katie's ninth birthday, hit her hard. Her heart swelled painfully at the memory of being twelve and sitting next to her dad doing science homework. He was just so good at helping her name elements on the periodic table. Katie barely felt the tears start as she glanced into the living room, picturing her dad peeking out the window as her first date to the fall formal walked up to the front door. She heard the rusty-spring squeak of the screen door and could perfectly hear her dad calling her name in that loud-laughter kind of way as he asked to come into the other room.
But as she blinked through the tears it was Ned standing in the doorway. His face contorted with concern as stepped towards her, asking, "Katie, what is it?"
She threw herself into his arms, the sob already clawing it's way up her throat. "I miss my dad so much," she gasped before the tears stole her voice and her breath.
She clung to Ned as eight years of suppressed grief wracked her body and he held her just as tight, murmuring words of comfort and cradling her head as she wept. When the deluge of tears had ebbed to watery hiccups and she thought she could talk again, she rinsed her face in the sink and dried it with a dishtowel. Ned stood, worry etched into every line of his face and waited. Throwing the towel over her shoulder, she grabbed two beers from the fridge and led him onto the porch. They sat side by side sipping their beers until she was able to say what she had come up with what to say.
"I'm sorry, Ned," she whispered.
"For what?" he asked cautiously.
She took a deep breath and faced him. "For everything? For breaking up with you over a voicemail. For not being straight with you. For not being brave enough to tell you why I left. Maybe even for leaving."
There was a painfully long pause while he stared out at the darkening sky before he asked, "Did you think I wouldn't understand?" The hurt was palpable in his eyes. "Did you not trust me?"
"No. Nothing like that. I think I just went a little crazy." She shrugged, but her shoulders felt heavy. "I thought running away would help and that not being here would make it better, so the second Mack graduated and I got a back-up singing gig, I left."
"I know," he said. And she looked up from the label she was peeling from her bottle to make sure she'd heard him right. "I've listened to every one of your songs. Each one is at least half a suicide note. I could barely stand to listen to them, but I also couldn't stop." His eyes searched hers as he leaned a bit closer, "It's like everything with you. Even when it's not good for me, I can't stop wanting it. It ruined my marriage."
She looked down at her hands. He was right, she wasn't good for him. She was the human equivalent of a sinkhole, a bottomless pit. "What happened?" She asked.
She couldn't entirely believe what Mackenzie had said and wondered if there was even a flicker of truth to it.
He took another pull on his beer and looked out at the yard. "I guess I thought it would help," he parroted her words back to her with a wry smile. "That committing to someone completely like that would force my heart to love someone else. But I've come to understand that it doesn't work that way. At least not for me. What I feel for you only happens once. In fact, I think once is more than most people get. Whether you meant to or not, you staked your claim and now I have to live with that. You're it for me, Katie."
She took a shaky breath and whispered the only question that mattered, "Still? Do you still want me?"
He licked his bottom lip as he stared back and forth between her eyes, searching for something. "I told you," he breathed, "I can't seem to stop."
She closed the small space between them and pressed her lips to his. A small moan escaped her as his mouth opened beneath hers. He tasted of beer and chapstick, smelled of sunscreen and clean sweat, felt like forgiveness and hope. His kiss blotted out everything else. Finally, Katie found the anchor she had been searching for. She needed more. She never wanted it to end. Trying to simultaneously put her bottle down and climb onto his lap, she spilled beer on her foot before pushing up to kneel in between his knees.
He ran his hand up her neck, weaving it into the hair at the base of her skull, which he gripped like he feared she would flee while his eyes were closed. And part of her did want to run, but she ignored it, willfully stomped it down and kissed him harder. It felt like the blood flow returning to an arm that has fallen asleep, gone numb, that pleasure/pain sensation that makes you suck in a breath. And like the rush of awakening, the revival of a deadened limb, her heart tingled and throbbed.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, needing the leverage to deepen the kiss that was already as deep as the sea. They kissed for minutes or hours, she wasn't sure which, only that she needed more. But then he was pulling away. She felt dazed and disoriented by the break in the kiss and she searched his eyes for the meaning of the rude interruption.
He squinted at her like he was trying to decipher a puzzle. He righted her, with steady hands on her waist, then nervously braced his hands on his thighs. "Dinner," he said firmly. "I'm starving."
She was hungry, but not as ravenous as she was for his touch. She felt cheated as he stood and walked into the house and she chastised herself for thinking he would just fall into her arms and want to stay there. Wanting someone and trusting them were two very different things.
Sighing, she dusted off her knees and followed Ned into the house.
She could hear the telltale sounds of him already starting to cook, water running, cupboards closing, the insistent hiss and click of the gas burner as it lit. She needed a minute to collect herself so she wandered down the dark hallway, trailing her fingers along the wood railing until it was out of her reach, to calm her racing heart.
She stopped at a picture still mounted on the wall, barely visible over the railing, but she knew which one it was. It was a picture of her mom, Mackenzie and herself making various faces: her mother's wife, electric smile, Mackenzie beatific grin, made all the more enchanting by two missing front teeth, and Katie's self-conscious smirk, eyes rolled exaggeratedly to the side as her mother's arm was pulled around her. That's what the picture showed. What it didn't show was her dad behind the camera, clutching his heart with one hand as he exclaimed that they were the three most beautiful girls in the world. The memory stabbed at her, but also glowed.
She rested her forehead against the wall, taking deep steadying breaths. When she opened her eyes, Ned was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking torn.
"Dinner's ready," he said softly.
"I didn't expect it to be so hard, being back here. Or maybe I did." She shook her head, feeling shaky and realizing how much she needed to eat. As she passed him in the doorway, he rubbed a small circle against the small of her back in the most comforting gesture. She was amazed at his generosity. "I guess it's what I get for bottling it up for so long."
"Are you regretting coming home?" he asked, not meeting her eyes as he heaped the simple pasta dish crammed with cherry tomatoes, green beans, and parmesan that he must have found in the fridge.
"A little," she said. He nodded, but still didn't look up, stirring his pasta around on his plate. She couldn't stop herself from adding honestly, "But there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Being here is a wound and a balm all at the same time."
The look he gave her then was so naked with longing, that this time she looked away.
What was she doing? As much as she wanted him, she couldn't stay here. She couldn't allow herself to hurt him again. Get in, get done, get out. She cleared her voice and forced herself to add, "I'll really miss this place once I'm back on tour."
They ate the deliciously simple meal in excruciating silence, suffused with all the things they couldn't say.
After the dishes were dry, he offered to help her pack. As if there was no end to his kindness or her corresponding ability to endure it. They worked in different rooms, painfully aware of each other, but achingly separate.
At some point, she realized she hadn't heard him for a while.
When she crept into the kitchen, following the dim light, she found Ned hunched over the kitchen table. It took her a moment, as her eyes adjusted to the light, to see that he was writing down something. She stood in the doorway, admiring the damp cotton of his shirt spread taut across his back. She watched as the long muscles undulated beneath the thin fabric. She followed the ridges up from his tapered waist to his broad shoulders, down to where the sleeves stretched tight around his biceps. He ran his hand over the top of his head before grasping the back of his neck. She wanted desperately to smooth the wrinkles in his shirt, to feel the flex of his muscles under her palms, to revel in the strength and solidity of him and the fact that he was actually there with her.
But she hadn't been invited to touch him and she knew better than to take anything more from him without permission. So she just stood in the doorway, wrapping the humid warmth of the night around her instead and relishing the rightness of having him so close.
At some point, his pen left the paper and she shuffled quietly in and poured him a glass of water from the sink. He didn't look up as he thanked her, tapping his pen on the pad. "I felt so empty after you left," he started as though picking up a thread of conversation, "Not just empty, but insubstantial. I felt like I was disappearing like I could float away like a piece of paper or a dandelion being blown in the breeze. It was terrifying. I think I hoped that tying myself to another person, anchoring myself to someone else, would keep me tethered to this life. That's why I married Amber. Even when I knew she didn't really want to be with me for me."
She had no idea what to say. She knew what it felt like to disappear into grief, to feel like a hollow shell rolling along the bottom of the sea with the whims of the tide. She cringed at the knowledge that she was the source of his pain. She took the few steps to reach him and waited, desperate to touch him until he leaned into her. Relieved, she cradled his head against her belly, running her fingers through his hair.
He nodded against her. "We're both broken, Katie, but our jagged edges fit together. Please tell me you feel this too. I feel like I'm going crazy. Please say you want this." There was a note of pleading in his voice which made her pretty sure she would have agreed to anything he asked.
"I've missed you so much, Ned," she murmured, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "You were the only one who ever made sense for me. My music has never been the same."
"I always wondered why you never used that song," he smiled. "The one you wrote about the lake house."
She smiled, blushing, as she met his gaze again. "I didn't think I could sing it every night to a crowd of people. But maybe my next album," she winked.
He tipped his head back and met her lips. There was something indescribably intimate about hovering over him like this, like he was praying to her, baring his throat, his heart, to her, utterly defenseless. But she didn't want any imbalance between them. She climbed onto him and slid into his lap without breaking the kiss. His hands were on her hips and as she rubbed and rocked over his growing erection, she wasn't sure which of them was guiding her movements.
They were of one mind, one need.
He lifted her onto the table, so she was perched on the edge before sliding her cutoffs down her thighs, caressing the backs of her knees and calves with his nails as he pulled them over one foot and then the other. She leaned toward him to scoot back into his lap, but he stopped her with his broad hand planted against her chest. Confused she looked up to find his eyes burning, deep and fathomless, waiting for hers. Without breaking eye contact, he gently pushed her back against the table, pulling each of her legs over his shoulders. Propped on her elbows, she watched him as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh.
As he kissed his way up her inner thigh, he mumbled into her skin, "You tell me if I should stop."
And she did feel like she should stop him. If anyone deserved to be pleasured and worshiped here it was him. But his eyes were on fire and his cheeks flushed pink with a desire so pure and fervent it was undeniable. The first gentle swipe of his tongue left her quivering, her entire body quaking with hunger.
Since she and Ned had broken up, orgasms had lost their intensity. She still came and it felt good, but the pleasure had been muted to a prosaic, somewhat anticlimactic, release. It made sense to her that something had broken, that her body had dulled the depths, and correspondingly the peaks, in a bid for survival. But as Ned's mouth devoured her, licking and sucking like he was dying of thirst and she was an oasis, she was stunned at the ferocity of the pleasure wracking her body. It was a liquid fire burning through her veins, turning her limbs molten with pulsing need.
She gripped the edge of the table, digging her nails into the wood, almost fearing the bliss that was ripping through her body. Then he worked two thick fingers into her trembling body and she keened as the combination of sensations sent her sailing over the edge. She cried out as the pleasure coursed through her in waves of ecstasy spreading from her core to the tips of her toes. She was still panting, gripping the table as if it was the only thing tethering her to the physical world when Ned stood and scooped her up into his arms. She wanted to protest, to insist that he put her down as he carried her bridal-style up the stairs and into her bedroom, but she just wove her arms around him and burrowed her face into the hot skin his neck.
Sitting her gently on the bed, he took a step away from her and she realized that she was still wearing her tank top and quickly peeled it off. She watched as Ned removed a condom from his wallet and set it on the bedside table. Through the lingering haze of gauzy pleasure, she realized it was her turn to act. She sat forward and began to unbutton his jeans. He reached behind him, pulling his t-shirt off over his head. She wanted to make him feel as worshiped as he had made her feel, but right now she needed him inside of her.
She discovered that he loved with his whole body. She was overwhelmed by the sensations of him, his thick leg pushing between hers, the fingertips of one hand running from her hip, over the sensitive skin of her rib cage to her breast, rolling her peaked nipple between his fingers, his other hand tangled in her hair as he tugged lightly to expose the column of her neck to his mouth, his hot breath ghosting over her over-sensitized skin. The shock of losing contact with him as he slid on the condom made her realize she needed to savor every second of their time together. By the time his fingers parted her folds, she was dizzy with need.
"Please, Ned," she begged, too intoxicated by him to feel ashamed of the raw, pleading tone in her voice, "I need you."
The small groan of unrestrained rapture he made in response nearly undid her. She had meant to say "fuck me", to cheapen this, restrict it to a physical act, but it was so clearly a lie that she couldn't let those words out. And then he was pushing into her and his eyes were inches away and glazed in pleasure and her whole body was trembling on the verge of abandon. It was too much, she closed her eyes and savored the feel of him.
"OH-, oh Katie, you feel so good," he gasped as he slowed his thrusts, obviously trying to regain some control.
"Oh, don't stop. Oh, right there..." She was loud, but she didn't care. No one was now and she wanted him, wild and unrestrained.
His nostrils were flared and his eyes hazy with lust when he demanded, "Then look at me."
She did and when she focused, staring into his eye, feeling his hand come to cup her cheek and she smiled. "You're so beautiful."
"So are you," she giggled, leaning up to kiss him, pulling him closer as she moaned again, feeling him that spot, deep inside her. Yes. That was it. "Oh, yes... yesyesyesyes."
Ge began to drive into her relentlessly, perfectly. She watched his jaw clench, the cords of neck straining as grunted deliciously. "I can't- I'm, oh fuck!" he ground out and then he was coming.
His pleasure ignited something in her and without knowing it was going to happen, she was coming too. She moaned and pulsed around him, as he rocked gently into her, savoring every blissful aftershock.
With his arms still braced on either side of her, he placed a feather soft kiss on her lips. Then, he stood and pushed the window open before collapsing beside her on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. Turning on her side, she gently pulled it away from his face. They just stared at each other, eyes roaming hungrily over the other's features. And then he gave her that smile again, so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness, that unexpected warmth rushed through her. She ran a fingertip over his sweaty brow and down along his jaw. She could feel the scratch of the day's stubble under the pad of her finger, another reminder of the man he had become, and was shocked at how much she wanted him again.
"Would you ask me to come with you?" he asked.
The cautious hopefulness in his voice made her heart clench. She'd hurt him so much.
"Would you ask me to stay?" She replied.
"I feel like that's all I've been doing since you tried to sneak out of the bakery yesterday." He kissed her fingertip. "Will you stay?"
"I want to," she sighed. "I just don't know if I can. I wish my mom was here."
His eyes shuttered then, losing some of the naked vulnerability, which she both appreciated and despised. He nodded and rolled over onto his back. She scooted into his side and he allowed her to pillow her head on his chest. And at that moment, with the cool breeze blowing through the window, the feel of clean, sun-dried sheets under her bare skin and his solid warmth beside her, she couldn't understand how she could possibly make herself leave.
When Katie awoke, the predawn light filtering in through the window made his hair look silver. She laid beside Ned, watching him, admiring the intimate details of him: the fleshiness of his earlobe, the freckles that dotted his shoulders, the trail of coarse hair running down the plane of his belly. She watched as the light changed to pink, turning his hair rose gold. She loved him. She probably always had, but there was no denying it now. As the swell of love for Ned Banks crested in her heart, she felt the ebbing pull of terror that she would lose him. That the losses would be too great and she would lose herself too. Maybe for good this time.
She watched him sleep, the reliable rise and fall of his beautiful chest, the flutter of his impossibly long eyelashes. As she lost herself in the beauty of him, the constant buzz of pain, the ever-present static that she'd carried with her since the day her father had died, came into acute focus as if tuned in on a radio dial: she wanted this, she thought. It was so clear and undeniable, it resonated, echoing through the expansive emptiness of her soul.
Without warning, his breath cut off in a ragged gasp, then stopped altogether, his body rigid. His arm shot out to the side, grasping her thigh, she didn't dare move. He sucked in a shaky breath and turned, wrapping a heavy arm around her waist, a heavenly anchor tying her to this time and place. There was nothing better in this world than sleeping next to his warm, solid body, he was comfort personified. With the realization that she never wanted to be anywhere else, she slipped back to sleep.
When she woke again, sun streaming through the window like lost time, he was gone. She told herself that she expected it, that she absolutely deserved it, but it still hurt more than she wanted to admit.
As she lay there alone, in a bed she feared would always seem too big without him beside her, the truth bloomed in her heart. She didn't just want Ned's forgiveness, she wanted all of him. She loved him. Really, truly loved him. And if she was terrifyingly honest with herself, she had to admit that she wanted to see what happened next. She wanted to stay.
The moment she let herself accept this, a whole new life unspooled through her mind. She'd finally called her mother, who despite being somewhere in South America dispensed the best maternal advice she could as Katie folded a mountain of Mackenzie's laundry in the living room. She'd convinced her to come home, even if it was only for a little while, just to see if Melinda could handle being home again. Melinda realized she just couldn't do it alone, and before she'd shut her children out because they were just reminders of her dead husband.
She thought of the songs she would write on her own porch, the steps of which were the perfect height for perching a guitar on her knee. She could finally sing about her dad and not just his absence. Because even though she'd lost him, she didn't love him any less. And Ned, kind, wonderful, mind-bendingly beautiful Ned. The thought of staring at him across the kitchen table as he chatted about his day or waking up every morning wrapped in his arms, his heartbeat a percussive melody, an endless chant, alive, alive, alive against her ear, made her heart stutter with longing.
She grabbed her keys, and without allowing herself to think about it, she went after him.
She pushed into the precinct, trying to ignore how good it felt to be in a place that was so him. But she didn't see him anywhere.
"Well, well, if it isn't our hometown celebrity, Ms. Katherine Clancy. Here to sing for us, doll?" Katie was not in the mood for Ned's buddy Devon to be pulling shit with her or the cold-eyed stare he was giving her. She knew she'd hurt Ned, she didn't need his surly face to remind her. If she had learned anything in the past few years, it was that whatever was between her and Ned, it was nobody else's business.
"Ned around?" she said with her best take-no-shit stare.
Devon looked at her for a moment, possibly weighing whether to tell her, possibly just making her wait before he gestured back with a bob of his head. "He's in the break room."
With a quick nod of thanks, she headed around back to the break room. She wasn't prepared for the rush of affection and relief that rolled through her at the sight of him. She realized that a part of her expected him to have left this time. But there Ned was, laughing and eating a bag of chips. When he saw her, his face broke into a grin and her heart melted a little as he stood to walk closer to her.
He didn't hate her.
"Lemme guess, you missed me," he said, a teasing tone that tried to cover up that the other option could be that she'd come to say goodbye.
"I wasn't sure where you…" She suddenly felt ridiculous for having chased him down. He probably needed the time to think.
"Didn't you get my note?" he asked, squinting at her. "I left it on the kitchen table."
She shook her head, feeling even more foolish. In her panic that he'd gone, she hadn't looked.
"There was an early crime scene," he grunted, walking with her out into the tiny hallway. They were alone now, even if they were a few feet from his coworkers. "I needed to meet the CSI crew out there."
"Oh, that makes sense." She smiled. "Well, I don't want to bother you at work."
He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'm on my lunch break," he glanced down at his watch. "I've still got a half an hour."
She cleared her throat, trying to quell the anxiety that threatened to close her windpipe. "Wanna go to dinner with me tonight?"
He squinted at her, grinning. "Yeah."
"How about tomorrow night too?" she asked.
"I'd love that," he smiled, resting his hand on her waist.
"And again the night after that?" She asked.
"Katie, don't mess with me. Are you...?"
"I'm gonna take a little music hiatus while I work on my new album. I was thinking about sticking around for a while since my mom's gonna come home and we're gonna keep the house. Do you think we can give this," she reached for his hand, "a real shot again, Ned?"
He looked at her, into her, with his eyes glinting like chipped sea glass, then stepped so close to her that she had to tilt her head up to see his face. "You don't get it, Katie. I want to be wherever you are - period. Whether that's traveling night by night watching you sing or here in Grandview; if you'll have me, I'm there. I won't spend another seven years of my life without you. I love you, it's just that simple."
Could it be simple? Could it be possible to allow yourself to be happy and whole when the people you loved most were cold in the ground? As she looked between those unbelievably blue eyes, so full of hope and longing, she realized it was not only possible, it was the only way to honor them.
She reached up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss across his lips. All of sudden, she couldn't wait to get him alone. "Are you almost done?"
He tipped her chin up, pressing another soft kiss to her lips as his fingertips slid down her jaw to caress her neck. She shivered deliciously under his touch.
"I just need to finish up my report from the crime scene and then I think my boss will let me go. I might even be able to convince him to let me go and finish it at home," he grinned at her.
"Do that," she agreed, her mouth already watering in anticipation. "Then let's go home."
