Between Here and There
Chapter 4
Kate woke the next morning in bed alone, her eyes falling to the empty pillow next to hers, wishing Rick was sleeping there, wishing she could wake him in a way they'd both remember. She rolled over onto her back and reached for her phone, her hand inadvertently brushing against the glass holding her flowers, causing her to smile. She eyed her text messages first, the single notification badge hung there above the icon eliciting a hopeful breath as she pressed it open.
"Is it Sunday yet? I'm sitting here at 3:17AM, imagining that's just what you're asking yourself as you read this because you simply can't wait to see me again (ha ha). Last night was wonderful , in case you've forgotten the 11 times I told you that already. I haven't stopped thinking about it, or you, so I'm probably in for another sheepless night. P.S. I wouldn't want it any other way. Today's a big day for both of us. I hope it brings you everything you hope it will and some fun. You'll be on my mind. Soon, WBTC"
He'd entered his contact information into her phone himself, labeling it 'World's Best Travel Companion' to her continued amusement, and his sign-off brought a drowsy giggle as she read back over his words a second time. Dropping the phone onto the bed, she lowered her forearm over her eyes and let time wind back to their elevator ride just hours before, slowly, second by second, touch by touch. Her hand slid beneath the sheets as the memory played across her mind like a film in slow motion, each frame's effect enhanced by the subtle fluctuations in pressure and speed brought by her fingers.
It was the greatest form of torture, her own imagination in concert with his words, and she could still hear his voice wrapped around the magic word, Sunday, as she lay there, spent, at the film's end. Now all that stood between her and more of him was twenty-four hours and the wedding of a man she once thought she'd be marrying. "How hard could it possibly be?" she asked aloud to the empty room.
xxxx
With the festivities not set to begin until the evening, Kate had most of the day to wander the city. She hadn't been back for a visit since shortly after her graduation from law school, so after a long run in the hotel's fitness center to burn off some of her residual energy from the morning's memory session, she set out into the cold sun to take in some of her favorite old haunts.
She didn't expect to hear from Rick all day, his plans with his father unspecific in their form, but that didn't deter her from keeping one of her gloved hands wrapped around her phone in her pocket as she moved about, just in case. It was almost adolescent, the waiting and the wonder, the 'will he or won't he?' of it all, but it tickled something inside of her, nonetheless, and that was a feeling she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.
It had been a convenient excuse to hide behind, her career, one she'd called upon many times since she'd joined the DA's office. She was successful, skilled at, and passionate about what she did every day, so there was always a case that required her time, focus, and commitment. It'd allowed her to remain comfortably in the driver's seat, to walk through her days and years with little risk, to avoid those vulnerabilities she never again wanted to find herself lost in. The years just after her mother's death had been filled with enough of those for a lifetime. Rick was the first man she'd met in longer than she could recall who sparked a hunger in her for more.
With her father in heart and mind, she walked the Magnificent Mile, ducking into spots they'd always enjoyed together, snapping photos and sending them on to him via text message as she went, so he could enjoy a bit of them right along with her. She reminisced about flipping through old maps at Newberry Library, hearing the flags snap in the wind at Navy Pier, watching the lights at Buckingham Fountain in the dark of night, and always returning to the Drake to sleep after days filled with laughter.
The final stop she made was for herself, a trip to her old campus, the place she'd come to years ago to help mold her into the tool for true effect she so wanted to be. She roamed around the Quadrangle in the short time she had left, thankful for the gifts it'd bestowed and vowing to continue the pursuit she'd undertaken. That path had changed her, taught her in ways she hadn't foreseen, and opened the doors to the very moment in which she stood.
xxxx
She climbed into a cab from her hotel to the PUBLIC for the wedding, Rick's hotel tucked on Michigan Avenue between the two, and she grinned as they drove past, wondering if he was already finished with his day and what he might be doing. She glanced down at her lap and pulled the fabric of her dress taught, her mind wandering to the other hanging in the closet in her room, the one she'd chosen to wear for him and the power of his eyes on her at first sight. She would carry that look with her all night.
The ceremony was small and sophisticated, more the influence of Will's wife than he, Kate imagined, his style always far less reserved, at least in the years she'd spent with him. The couple wrote and exchanged their own vows, and while she found those moments and those words did provoke a touch of melancholy somewhere within her, she allowed that feeling to come as Rick had advocated, the return cathartic, immediate in its aftereffect.
Sitting beside an empty chair at the reception, a chair reserved for a plus-one she'd never invited to accompany her, Kate thought of her parents, about her father who hadn't again found love in her mother's absence, and about how that was the very last thing she would've wanted for him and all the years of his future. She knew she wanted more for herself, more than just memories and an office with her nameplate attached to it.
"I'm glad you came," Kate heard softly in her ear, pulling her back from reflection. "I didn't think you ever left the office," Will said with amusement, dropping into the chair next to her. "At least, that's what I've heard."
"Tough to say no to an open bar and a view like that," Kate replied, looking back over her shoulder at the illuminated skyline in the room's distance. "Plus, the rail was calling and you know how that old siren song goes."
"Still not flying, huh? What'd it take you, four days to get here from New York?"
"That's very funny. You know, envy doesn't really go with that tie."
Will smiled grandly. "I've missed that mind of yours," he told her. "It was always moving just a little bit faster than the rest of us. That office is lucky to have you. I hope they know it."
"I appreciate that, thank you," Kate said. "It's been quite a ride, so far." She sipped from her glass of champagne and quickly scanned the room with her eyes. "Your wife is beautiful. All of this was beautiful."
He watched her for a quiet moment before continuing. "I hope you're happy, Kate. After everything you've been through and everything you've accomplished, I really hope you're happy."
"I am, and I'm…I'm working on it," she said. "And I'm glad to see you are."
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Thanks for being here. It means a lot." He stood and pushed the chair back in, a hand at her shoulder. "Be happy, Kate," he said and he moved away.
xxxx
She stayed only a short time longer, opting for the fresh air of a walk before hailing a cab back to the Loews, more the former, given the late Saturday night bustle of the city. On that elevator ride up to her floor from the lobby, she found herself alone, of course, and she couldn't help but laugh at the missed opportunity of it all.
She could already see Rick when she stepped from the car and made her turn, his back propped against her door and his legs stretched out across the hallway. She stopped immediately, her body almost too excited to move, and she watched as his face lit up when he finally caught sight of her.
He pushed himself up from the floor and glanced down at his watch. "So, it's Sunday," he said. Once able to convince her legs to do what she wanted, she headed straight for him and didn't stop until his arms caught her. "I often attempt to exploit technicalities. That's a thing you should know about me up front."
"Oh, yeah? Maybe you should write me a list of things I should know in that journal of yours," Kate said with an audible smile.
"Oh, no, that journal is reserved for things far more interesting than I." He pulled back and kissed her forehead. "Is it okay that I came? I wasn't sure if I should-"
"I'm glad you did," she said, sliding her keycard into the door and leading him inside by the hand. He sat down on the end of the bed as she unbuttoned her coat and unraveled her scarf, his eyes positively transfixed. "I want to talk, but do you mind if I take this thing off first?" she asked, pointing to her dress.
"This feels like a cruel trick question," he replied. She crooked one eyebrow at him and turned for the bathroom. "My mom always used to tell me that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is," he called out after her. "I really hate it when she's right."
Kate emerged a few minutes later in a tank top and pajama pants, her hair and makeup still in place and photo-ready. "Okay, I feel better now. Being a girl's exhausting, sometimes."
"Come here," Rick said, his tone both affectionate and insistent. She crossed to him and stopped when she reached his knees. "You look gorgeous. You could've worn this to the wedding and it wouldn't have mattered."
"Maybe to the next one," she said jokingly, "but thank you."
He took her hand and guided her onto the bed beside him. "How did this one go? How are you feeling?"
"It was…nice, actually. I had a chance to talk to Will for a few minutes at the reception. He told me to be happy."
"That bastard," Rick quipped, prompting a swat to the arm. His fingers grazed the small of her back and he could feel her react. "Also, he's right. You should be." A notable stillness set in while he prepared to tell her why he'd come, though not one of discomfort or unease. "Kate," he began, "I find myself in a most wonderfully unexpected place with you. I'm someone who has always seen a lot, always noticed people and things. It's what helped me to become a writer. But you, I did not see you coming, and you've set in motion something in me that I've never experienced before. And, I know. I know it hasn't even been three days, but I don't care about that, and neither does my heart, apparently."
"Fuck, I can't wait to read your book," Kate whispered aloud, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Do you always know the perfect things to say?"
"Parsnips!" he exclaimed, apropos of nothing and garnering a look of confusion. "No, I don't, clearly, but I sort of like messy. Messy is where the interesting lives."
"Can't say as I've ever met an interesting parsnip," she razzed.
"Well, then, please feel free to substitute the root vegetable of your choosing." His eyes found hers before he continued. "There are things, yes, not small things, like Manhattan and Albany, but it doesn't matter to me where somewhere is, because not having you anywhere isn't an option, anymore. But, Kate, if I'm alone here, if there isn't…I mean, if you don't-"
She brought her hand to his cheek, drew a finger along the line of his jaw. "There is. I do. I swear, I can barely think about anything else," she professed, kissing him softly.
"Look who's saying the perfect thing now," he said, pulling her in for more, this time deeper, fiery. "Did I tell you that dress was incredible, by the way," he exhaled, breathless. "Next time, you can wear it for me."
"Rick," she said, taking his hair firmly in her hand's grasp, "I don't want to talk anymore."
He followed her lead as she pushed backwards onto the bed, hovering closely above her in wait for her to settle. His jacket already discarded, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt, her mouth finding his amidst her effort, his body maneuvering into the space between her thighs. With his weight supported by one arm, his fingers found the sliver of exposed skin at her waist and a gentle hum of pleasure escaped her at the contact. Angling for her ear, his hand pushed beneath the cotton of her tank. "Kate, I didn't expect this," he admitted painfully. "I didn't bring-"
She arched upwards and kissed him heatedly. "I always come prepared," she told him. "You should probably know that about me up front. And, are you still talking?"
"No ma'am," he said, and they were on each other.
It was slow, like two new to the art, like two who longed for no end, for it to forever imprint on themselves and the other. And it was fast, the ache of further wait too painful to endure, and the sensations too stunning to bridle. Their bodies recognized each other in a profound way, offering no explanation as to how, merely unleashing gratitude for their union born of pure chance, and no sooner had the first wave passed than the second inundated them.
Hours they spent wrapped up in one another, the consequence of time all but forgotten in the darkness of the room around them, and not until Kate's phone chirped late that morning did either move a muscle from the hold of the other. She rolled onto her side, pulling his arm along with her in the motion, and reached to silence the uninvited intruder. Rick kissed at the skin of her back in indiscriminate pattern, her arousal closer to the surface than she imagined possible after what'd come before. "It's just my dad," she said, biting playfully at his arm. "I'll call him back later."
"Why do I suddenly feel like I should put on a tie?" he joked.
"Do you even own a tie, Mr. I Love To Wear Jeans To Work?"
He squeezed her in tight against him. "I'll add that to the list for you: owns tie." He could feel her body shudder with her giggle and it flooded him with a palpable joy. "Last night was amazing," he said, rotating her, once again, onto her back. "I couldn't have written it any better. Oh, speaking of which," he said, releasing her and crawling from beneath the covers for his jacket. "I finished that story I was working on about the traveling cookie lover. I know you were anxious to hear the ending so you could decide whether or not to go and buy it in that bookshop of yours." He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slid back in beside her.
"I work hard for my money, professor, and I don't part with it easily, well, unless we're talking about leather jackets. I may have a slight discipline problem with the leather."
"I do like the sound of that," he said, lost momentarily in the thought. "Now see how you like the sound of this." He cleared his throat and began to read what was scribbled on the page. "He went to her and they made love, and he was the best she'd ever had, and-"
"You didn't really write that, did you?" she interrupted. "You wrote 'made love'? Kind of flowery for what that was."
"Okay, maybe I just added that part, but shush, I'm reading." He went on. "It wasn't like anything. He didn't know what she'd done to him, but the unfamiliar had never felt so utterly safe. He'd bought her a cookie and she'd blown his life wide open, and he finally understood what all the stories were about, what he'd been writing for. Somewhere between here and there, he'd found the answer to a question he'd never before asked: 'Why had everything in his life happened in the way it had?' In that train car, in that seat, on that day, she was that answer. The End." He reached over and set the paper on the nightstand, turning back to find her pushing a tear from her cheek. "So, have I won your $30, queen of the leather jackets?"
Kate looked back at him with feigned shock. "You never said it would be that much," she wisecracked, sliding onto his body, already craving the next wave. "Maybe some more proof that you're the best I've ever had might help ease the sting," she purred, kissing his bare chest.
"Oh, I've got every inch of proof you'll ever need," he shot back, feasting on her suggestion. He pushed a hand through the loose hair at her cheek and held it steady, his eyes fixed on hers with pure adoration. "How much time do I have?" he asked thoughtfully, his hope far beyond the hotel room, far beyond the streets of Chicago.
"How much do you want?" She knew what he was asking, the weight in his simple words manifested in his gaze.
"I thought you didn't like to make deals."
She lowered her head and it came softly to rest, her ear just above his heart. "I've felt enough over the past couple of days to know this is a fight I'm not going to win, so I'm opening myself up to rare negotiation."
His fingertip traced lazy circles along the curve of her shoulder, and she exhaled a warm breath across his skin. "I want every minute you'll give me," he told her. "And after I have those, just to forewarn you, I'll want more."
She angled up so she could see his face, a fist beneath her chin. "There are things," she said, echoing his earlier thought. "But I think I can live with those terms, for now."
"Should we make love on it?" he said, simply to take enjoyment from her reaction.
She adjusted her body advantageously as she could feel his begin to respond. "We're really going to have to work on your vocabulary," she grumbled in jest. His body began to move against hers and her breath fluttered. "Where did you come from?" she asked him once more.
"I came from Albany," he said, and they began again.