Slow Burn
Chapter 8
They stand close to one another in the elevator on the ride down, much closer than normal, their arms just touching, the backs of their hands kissing from time to time.
Kate feels surrounded by him, by his scent, fresh from the shower, his face shaved to baby-soft smoothness then splashed with that zesty cologne she loves; a cologne she suspects he saves for special occasions because he wears it so infrequently. As the elevator car sinks, she can feel the heat of his body radiating through the fine Pima cotton of his beautiful blue shirt. He has his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, casually dangling from the crook of his finger. With his sunglasses already on, it makes him like a cool, Las Vegas Rat Packer.
If she concentrates, she can still feel the embrace of his arms around her when they were inside his closet selecting a tie, his hands smoothing her dress over her hips. She can feel his lips on her neck, too, and the cool rush of air as he swept her hair aside. She shivers. Holding back is delicious, and they will never be this close to the edge again, in a place where knowledge has yet to replace imagination. Carnal knowledge, she reminds herself and shivers again. Right at this moment, she is like a prospective new homeowner, who, having visited the property a number of times, has begun to fantasize about the placement of furniture, the hanging of drapes, all in anticipation of an early closing, having already fallen head over heels in love.
"You okay?" Castle asks, breaking into the quiet bubble of her mind.
She turns and smiles at him, their fingers briefly tangling. "Yeah. Great." Her voice is hoarse with emotion, the strangled sound not what she expects to come out of her mouth. When Castle looks a little concerned, she touches his arm and squeezes. "Don't look so worried. Really. I'm good." Then the elevator doors open.
When they get out into the street, a small crowd of Japanese tourists has gathered around the car. Young girls dressed in mini-kilts and wearing Hello Kitty backpacks giggle as they crowd next to the blue Bentley to pose for a group photo, which Eduardo patiently snaps several times over on a series of expensive cameras and phones.
When Castle stops suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk and says, "Wow! She. Is. A Beauty!" Kate turns to give him a quizzical look, but his gaze is firmly locked on the sapphire-blue car and not on the gaggle of cute, Asian millennials.
She really needs to start giving him more credit.
Eduardo gently shepherds the young women away and hands Castle the keys. "Just beautiful, Mr. Castle," the doorman says, adding, "Looks perfect for you," and his eyes stray towards Kate.
Castle taps the side of his nose and says something that Kate doesn't catch.
"My thinking exactly," are the words she misses as he slips the doorman a twenty-dollar bill. But then her partner is turning around and distracting her with the keys, so she forgets to ask him to repeat what he just said.
"Castle, I drove it down here. Staten Island should be your turn," Kate says, trying to play fair though in truth she's itching to snatch the keys right out of his grasp.
Castle presses the car key into her palm and closes his large hands around her own. They feel soft and warm and safe. He leans in so that only she can hear him. "I'd rather watch you drive the Bentley, Beckett." Then he pauses, replaying what he's just said, before adding almost to himself, "And who'd have thought I'd ever utter those words? Hm."
Kate considers his offer for a second longer before she nods. "Okay, Castle. If you prefer to watch," she says with a flirtatious wink and a toss of her hair.
She's opening the driver-side door and sinking into the soft calfskin leather when she hears him say, "And who knows, if we really like it, maybe we'll buy one," before he climbs into the passenger seat beside her.
The engine is already purring, but she's not mistaken. She turns to stare at him. "Did you just say what I think you said?"
Castle is fiddling with the touch-screen Sat Nav and music system, the climate control, opening and closing the polished wood veneer glovebox, poking around like he usually does. "Mm?" he hums in a distracted manner. "These controls are top of the line."
"Were you really just talking about buying this car?" she says, flicking on the blinker and pulling out onto Bleecker Street.
"Sure. Why not? Thanks to Nikki Heat, we can afford it. What better way to celebrate if we both like how it drives?"
Kate is quiet for the next several minutes as she navigates south on West Street, eventually taking them through the Battery Tunnel to Brooklyn. She's in a daze chewing over the simple, generous (more than generous) suggestion Castle just threw out there as if dropping close to a quarter of a million dollars on a luxury car was nothing. And maybe when you're as rich as Richard Castle it really is nothing. With her NYPD salary, what does she know?
But it was his choice of pronoun that really struck her; he is, after all, at his most particular when it comes to grammar. And this time, he employed the first person plural pronoun "we" when he talked about buying the car. "We can afford it," he said as though they are already more than work partners, more than best friends, more like that husband and wife who share large financial decisions along with everything else: the good, the bad, and the mundane in between.
This concept of them as a new, committed whole keeps presenting itself to her today, both via Castle and herself if she's being honest.
She is silent for a long time, having retreated inside her head to figure things out: how she feels about developments over the last twenty-four hours, to say nothing of the last four years. Maybe they have already become that "we." Maybe they slipped into those roles and she simply failed to notice the transition because it became so easy, so seamless after they fought it for so long. They've already owned up to the desire and maybe they've already stumbled upon the secret to working the kinks out, too. Who knows?
What she does know, beyond all doubt, is that she doesn't want to be with anyone else and she doesn't want to see him with anyone else, not ever again. That would crush her. When this realization hits her square in the chest, she finds herself reaching for him, seeking out his hand even as she concentrates on the road, on protecting this beautiful car while her hair rises up around her head, carefully-styled curls flying in the backdraft with the top down in the sunshine, and she doesn't even care.
This must be what joy feels like, she imagines. It's been a long time since she felt pure joy for more than a passing moment.
"You okay?" Castle asks when she finds his hand and gives it a quick squeeze.
Though there are tears in her eyes (it's the wind, she tells herself) – and this will become a feature of the day - she gives him a genuine, heartfelt smile. "I'm good. I'm really good. But I'm pulling over once we cross the Verrazano Bridge. You have to drive this car, Castle. It's a dream machine."
He watches her a moment longer before nodding in agreement. "Okay. If you say so."
"Anyway, might be nice if you're the one doing the chauffeuring when we pull up to the church," she says, surprising him even more.
"Not that I'm complaining, but it's unlike you to ask to be driven anywhere, Beckett."
She dismisses this observation with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, well, this is a special occasion. Kind of feels like the right time," she adds cryptically.
Kate pulls off the Staten Island Expressway in Grasmere and they switch seats.
"Well, this feels weird," Castle says, a mile-wide grin on his face and his hands at ten and two as he pilots them back onto the interstate bound for St. Teresa's Catholic Church.
A few minutes later, they take the exit Ryan instructed. "Can you believe this place is called Castleton Corners?" he says.
"What about the church? Did I ever tell you that my aunt's name is Teresa?" Kate says.
"You're kidding? This whole thing is a little freaky."
"I hope it's not the universe giving us another sign," Kate suggests, poking fun at him and laughing as she does so.
"Hey, we said we're done being pushed around by the universe," Castle reminds her. "She made her point and⏤"
"The universe is a she?"
Castle nods. "Yes, she is and she is a hopeless romantic, too."
"Of course. Though maybe not so hopeless anymore."
He shoots her an excited look. "But we've got this, right? We're on our own now. We don't need anyone's help. Agreed?"
She nods. "Agreed. So what did Alexis say when you asked her permission to take me to this thing?"
They look at one another and begin to laugh.
"Hey, eyes on the road. You break it you buy it, Castle. And if we're buying it, I'd prefer it came without dents as an optional extra."
"I knew you'd love this car!" he says, slapping the steering wheel. "God my royalties are so screwed this month."
Her eyebrows shoot up and she turns to stare. "Just this month?"
He shrugs. "Maybe a couple of months. But don't worry. We'll get by. I'll still bring you coffee, Beckett" he says with a boyish grin.
And there he is with that "we" again.
The church is pretty as modern churches go: red brick with a well-kept garden lining the concrete front walk, which is already teaming with guests from both sides of the wedding party. Men and women are milling around outside, chatting in friendly clumps, dressed in suits, pretty dresses, and hats. They've been told they can use the schoolyard next door and so that's what they do, parking the only Bentley ever likely to grace this fenced-off acre of Staten Island alongside a souped-up Dodge Charger with black and white racing stripes and an FDNY bumper sticker.
Castle shuts off the engine and when he turns to Kate she's taming her wind-blown hair and checking her face in the mirror.
"Alexis was delighted to step aside by the way," he says, reigniting a conversation they never actually finished. "In fact, her exact words were, 'Dad, I'm so excited for you.' Then she gave me a hug."
"You get all that just for letting her off the hook of going to a cop wedding?" Kate says because she senses that there's more he's not saying.
He fiddles with the car key. "Maybe not just that."
She turns to face him. "Then…what else?" When he hesitates, she says, "Go on. You can tell me." She suspects she already knows what earned him his daughter's enthusiasm.
"Promise not to get mad?"
"Promise," she says softly and her lips curve into a smile.
He looks down at his slacks, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the crease before he says, "Okay," and blows out a breath. "I may have told her what happened yesterday. At the precinct."
Kate nods thoughtfully but says nothing. She licks her lips and her fingers curl on her lap.
"What? Kate, what is it? Please tell me what you're thinking?" Castle begs.
She shakes her head slightly from side to side and shrugs with one shoulder. "Nothing. It's fine. I know how close you two are. So, of course, you'd tell her."
"But you're upset with me," he says, crushing the car key in his hand.
Kate reaches out to peel his fingers away from the fob. His palm is marked red and blanched white by the strength of his grip. "You'll hurt yourself," she says, smoothing his palm with the stroke of her fingers.
"I don't want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you and yet⏤"
"Castle, stop," she says gently. "You haven't hurt me. Did I want a little time to think things through? Yes. But I can't expect you to keep this kind of thing from your kid, even if I wanted you to."
He looks up at her tentatively. "So…we're okay?"
She grins. "We're good. Now, put a smile back on your face because here comes Esposito. Oh! And it looks like he's with Lanie!" she says with surprise.
They get out of the car after Castle closes the roof in case of showers – although the weather is set fair – or thieves or vandals.
Lanie reaches them first. She gives Castle a little wave across the hood of the car before she pulls Kate into a hug. "Honey, you look gorgeous!"
"Watch the flowers!" Kate exclaims, fluffing her frangipani when they pull apart.
She almost laughs out loud when she thinks of this, and she knows that Castle would laugh, too. She's fluffing her frangipani; how rude that sounds. She makes a mental note to share this with him later, maybe at the reception. She couldn't keep a straight face if she tells him in church and she knows he couldn't, either.
Yes. How well she knows this man, she thinks with a jolt of longing as she watches him embrace her friend, and how well he knows her in return, from the darkest, hidden corners of her half-broken heart to her straight-shooter need for justice and all the other murky foibles in between. He's seen it all and he's still here. The only one who lasted, the one who stuck around, the man who fought tooth and nail to be by her side, through life and death and all that's yet to come.
He is the one man who has proved himself deserving of her heart, time without number. He catches her staring and there's a worried question in his eyes which she immediately calms with a minute shake of her head that only he can see.
"Matching buttonholes? Nice touch!" Lanie says. She turns her back on Castle to give Kate a surreptitious wink. "So, does this mean…?"
"It means I was stuck at my desk this morning completing paperwork and Castle was kind enough to organize my corsage," Kate says, defying Lanie to contradict her unromantic summation of the facts in front of Esposito.
"Cool car, dude," Esposito says, and they all turn to admire the sapphire-blue Bentley.
"You like it?" Castle says with a big grin. "Because we're thinking of buying it," he adds, patting the convertible's roof as though it was a pet.
Kate's eyes widen and a blush she cannot stop begins to creep up her neck.
But Esposito laughs. "Seriously, though, bro." Gingerly, he reaches out to skim his fingertips over the Bentley's paintwork.
He flinches when Castle grabs his arm and yells, "Don't scratch it!" Laughing his head off at Javi's freaked-out reaction.
The moment passes. Kate can see Lanie hasn't missed a thing, but she is behind her friend one hundred percent and would never do anything to betray her, never in love, or make to her feel uncomfortable on this important day.
She takes Esposito by the arm. "We'll see you two inside," she calls over her shoulder, leaving Kate and Castle standing next to the largest commitment they have ever contemplating making. Aside from marriage that is.
"You really serious about buying this car, Castle?" Kate asks, stroking the paintwork the way Javi has just done.
"If it pleases madam, damn straight I am. I'll have the funds transferred and the paperwork signed by tomorrow."
She looks at him, her head on a tilt, observing. "That's not an answer, Castle. At least, it's not the kind of answer you know I'm going to accept."
He nods and then clears his throat. "I'm eager to get on with my life, Kate. I want to do things that make me happy. I've wasted too much time on relationships, decisions, even characters that brought me no joy. Or worse, that brought me misery." He takes a step closer to her, lowering his voice as an excitable group of Ryan's cousins runs past. "You bring me joy."
Kate looks at her shoes and smiles. When she looks up, she says, "Castle, you know I can't be bought with a car."
He nods. "I do know that, yes."
She tugs on his lapel before smoothing it back down. "And you know you don't have to buy a car to⏤" She bites her lip and her lashes flutter. "To have me. Castle, you already have me."
He looks so serious and then faintly annoyed when he glances to the left and says, "Sorority sisters at your four o'clock or I would be kissing you senseless right now."
Kate laughs, and it's the kind of bent double, full eyes and teeth kind of laugh he loves to see and loves, even more, to have caused.
Once the young women have passed by in a cloud of sweet perfume and floral dresses, Castle offers Kate his arm. "Care to join me inside, detective? I believe we have a wedding to attend."
"It would be my honor, Mr. Castle," she replies.
They giggle and sigh to themselves as they follow the chattering crowd inside, Kate with her hand tucked into the crook of Castle's arm and his hand resting on top.
"Your hands are cold," he says, as they climb the front steps and enter the drafty rear of the church.
Kate rubs her hands together and makes a face. "Damn. I left my wrap in the car."
"Wait there. Don't move from that spot. I'll be right back," Castle promises before dashing off.
Her expression is so adorable that he doesn't mind returning to the car they just left in the schoolyard not minutes before to fetch her pashmina.
He searches the inside of the Bentley first, but the silk wrap is nowhere to be found. When he pops the trunk, he is surprised to find an overnight bag stowed inside. The pearl gray pashmina is neatly folded on top. Beneath the wrap, he can see her makeup bag, a pair of shoes, and a change of clothes are also tucked inside. His heart starts to beat a little faster. He doesn't know what this discovery means, but he knows what he wants it to mean.
"You're not the only one with dreams, you know," she had said to him yesterday, right after he proposed. He tried last night, down by the Hudson River, but he never got a chance to ask her what she meant, what her own dreams are.
On impulse, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call.
TBC...
A/N: Thank you lovely people. I'm glad everyone else seems to enjoy a slow burn. I can rush to the end, but then it would be over and where's the fun in that, right? Liv