Summary: She's letting it go. Slowly but surely she's moving on, because she refuses to allow the darkness of her past to cloud her future. Their future. Spoilers for Always. Follows Wake To The Light.
Author's Note: Ummm, wow! I don't think I've ever received so many story alerts so quickly. You guys are awesome! Thank you so much!
Disclaimer: I'm running out of creative ways to say I don't own Castle. Not that anyone actually thinks that I do...
Chapter 5
"I thought you and she were done," Martha says bluntly as Castle walks into the kitchen, where his mother is tossing together a tray of sandwich fixings for lunch. She is dressed casually in a flowing sundress, having readily adapted to the previous five days she has spent out here on the beach.
Castle, Kate, and Alexis arrived about an hour ago, and his daughter is still up in her room unpacking. Last he saw Kate, she was standing out on the balcony, sun glistening off of her bare arms, chatting happily on the phone with her father. Castle had sidled up beside her, dropped a kiss on her cheek, and suggested that she invite Jim up for a couple of days. She had swatted him away lovingly but smiled sweetly, and he thinks that was her way of saying 'you're annoying, but I'll ask him.'
Either way, she was smiling and laughing, eyes sparkling, completely relaxed, and he loves it so much.
Martha clears her throat softly and Castle returns his focus to her, to their conversation.
"We've worked things out."
His mother raises an eyebrow disbelievingly.
"We have," he protests, sounding far too petulant for his liking but unwilling to divulge any further details at the present time. They are still adjusting to this new thing and though he knows his mother means well, Castle is in no frame of mind to receive relationship advice from her right now.
"And by 'worked things out' you mean...?"
He shrugs again, makes himself useful by tearing open the package of cheese and arranging slices on a platter. "Talked things through," he offers, sufficiently nondescript. "Apologized."
"And just like that, she's here with you?"
"It took a bit of convincing."
"Such as?"
"Mother," he says sharply.
She tosses the empty bag from the lettuce into the sink to be dealt with later, meets him with a firm look in her eyes.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt again."
Castle smiles gently, leans over to squeeze her arm, because she really is just looking out for him. "I'm not going to."
Martha is still not completely convinced but she can see from the way his smile lights up his entire face that whatever happened, he truly believes things will be okay. She has a feeling there is something he is leaving out, especially given that she almost positively saw Kate follow Castle into the master bedroom with her bags upon their arrival.
But she is not going to pop the happy bubble that seems to have settled over her son, because it has been a long time since he has smiled this much while talking about Kate.
And when the woman in question appears a few minutes later looking completely at ease, makes herself a sandwich, sinks onto a bar stool right next to Castle, and the two smile adoringly at each other, Martha begins to understand exactly what her son meant when he said that they 'worked things out.'
"You okay?"
Kate looks up and finds Castle's blue eyes gazing down on her lovingly, happiness with a hit of concern lacing their depths. The light afternoon breeze ruffles his hair, wraps around their bodies, infusing them with the beautiful scents of summer and sunshine and salt water. Her skin is already turning a lovely olive-color, concealing most of what remains of her bruises, and between her talk with Dr. Burke yesterday and the calming sounds of the ocean, she looks more relaxed than he has probably ever seen her. Relaxed but...focused.
"Yeah, why?"
He shrugs, lays his hand over hers on the balcony railing. "You just look serious."
She smiles and leans into his warmth. "No, just...this place is amazing. It's so peaceful and...I love it."
"I'm glad," he says lazily, still full from lunch and hazy with the warmth of the sun and her body against his and the way she is smiling up at him. It is very real, yet still surreal in some ways, that she is here with him.
"Thanks for bringing me here," she murmurs, lips caressing the lines of his jaw as she speaks.
He cradles her tightly, bordering on possessive, nuzzles into her hair. "Thanks for coming with us."
Kate feels the emotions of his words seep into her veins, wrap around her and tug on her heart. She has no idea how it is possible to put so much into so few words, but now she understands why he is such a good writer.
She turns then so that her chest is pressed against his, laces her arms around his neck. Castle's body is pliable, melts into hers as his arms surround her, warm and strong and so tender that something twists in her chest, something that feels very much like love and forever because this is just so perfect.
His lips descend on hers before she can put her thoughts in order, tongue tracing the outline of her mouth, begging for entrance. She grants him access, tugging him down even closer as their tongues tangle languidly, teasing and caressing.
Kate has no clue how long they stand there wrapped in each other but she does know that she could stay in his arms all day and be a happy woman. She is sure about this. The rest of her life may be in shambles, may lie in an unknown jumble somewhere up ahead of her, but this is right.
She lifts up on tiptoe, nuzzles her nose into him, warm breath fanning out over the sensitive skin of his neck as she breathes him in. She feels his arms tighten around her in response and presses a kiss beneath his ear.
"I love you," she whispers softly.
Castle's response is instantaneous. The hands tracing patterns on her back freeze, his whole body stiffens, he forgets to breathe, because Katherine Beckett loves him and she is here in the Hamptons with him and this is a day he has only ever imagined in his wildest dreams.
"I love you," she says again, punctuates her words with a light brush of her lips against his neck.
Castle squeezes her harder, buries his face in her hair, and she can feel him expel a shaky breath against her scalp. His entire body is thrumming with energy and awe and adrenaline, his heart is pounding beneath his chest, and he never wants this moment to end. Never.
"Kate," he releases her name on a puff of air, slowly lifts his head to meet her eyes. She is smiling, eyes bright and radiant in the afternoon sunlight, and he can see it swimming in their depths; the love and passion and adoration. All for him.
"I love you so much," he manages finally, as her confession has taken away any other words he may have been planning to speak. Even these words, spoken from the very depths of his soul, must be forced out through the tight knot in his chest.
Her grin widens, crinkling the corners of her eyes, and Castle lifts his hands to cup her jaw, guides her in for a sweet kiss.
"So much," he pants as they pull apart, eyes locked.
She is not sure who moves first or how they make it to the bed or where her clothing ends up or what she slams her elbow on in the process. All Kate knows when she drifts awake two hours later wrapped up in his arms, tangled in his sheets, gazing out at the crashing waves of the Atlantic, is that she has never been happier.
She has never been so in love.
"We could make hamburgers," Castle suggests, rummaging through the fridge for lettuce and tomato and ketchup and mustard. He lifts his head, casts excited eyes in Kate's direction, and his childish exuberance softens her features, makes her smile. Somehow, nine year old on a sugar rush has gone from annoying to endearing.
Well, most of the time. There are still moments where she wants to smack him, tell him to grow up. But he brings out the younger, carefree parts of her, too, and it is so nice to feel that way again because it has been so long since she stepped back and let herself live and laugh and smile and love.
"Sure," she shrugs, still sated and at ease and not in the mood to be picky.
"What's wrong with hamburgers?"
She shrugs again, raises an eyebrow teasingly because hamburgers actually sound really good but sometimes it is too much fun to see how quickly she can rile him up over almost nothing.
"Come on, Beckett. It's the perfect beginning-of-summer dinner," he whines, eyes big and pleading and far too adorable for his own good.
She rolls her eyes, smacks him in the butt with the bag of hamburger buns she found sitting on the counter. "Fine."
Castle is on her before she has a chance to react, pressing her back into the kitchen counter, lips hungrily seeking her jaw, her neck. His wide puppy dog eyes quickly turn dark and lusty, bore into hers as their lips crash together. The hamburger buns end up on the floor, along with the bag of lettuce that was in his hands, as their worlds narrow to each other and their lips and tongues and hands and oh, God, the way he is pressing her into the counter is just so hot.
Kate slides her hands into his back pockets, tugs his hips into hers, and his hands are inching up her shirt, so close to the clasp of her bra, when they are interrupted by a surprised 'Oh!'
They jerk apart, Kate's head whipping around to find the source of the noise, and there just inside the kitchen is a very shocked, slightly red-faced Martha Rodgers.
"Oh, ummm...hi?" Kate offers, because they are adults and it is not like they were actually going at it, but his hands were up her shirt and hers were squeezing his ass and they just got busted by his mother.
"I suspected there was more to the story," Martha says lightly but pointedly, eyes fixed on her son, and Castle offers a lopsided smile, allows his hands to drop to Kate's hips, rest there innocently.
She turns back, buries her head in Castle's neck as heat flares up, reddens her cheeks. He drops a soft kiss in her hair, flicks his eyes to his mother, indicating quite clearly that now is really not the time for whatever amusing remarks linger on the tip of her tongue.
Martha simply smiles, holds up her hands in surrender. "I just wanted to know if you'd like help with dinner, but you look like you've got everything under control." Her eyes drop deliberately to the floor and the bags of food that lie near their feet, then back up.
Kate groans against him, lifts her head again and tentatively meets the older woman's eyes, feeling like she is fifteen again and has just been caught making out with a boy on the couch.
"Thanks, Martha," she says hesitantly, offers a slight smile to help dispel the tension, because Kate knows she meant well by offering assistance.
Martha grins at the sight of the two of them, disheveled and smiling guiltily, but at least having the decency to be a little bit embarrassed.
She steps around them, snags a bag of potato chips from the top of the refrigerator, because at this rate, dinner might not be finished until nine o'clock. Two sets of eyes watch her as she moves around the room, trying not to smile too much, because it is pretty amusing to see two capable and well-spoken adults so awkwardly tongue-tied.
Martha removes a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, retrieves a glass from the cupboard, and tosses a smirk in their directions as she leaves the room.
She stops at the last minute though, turns and gestures in their general direction. "At least wash the counter before you start preparing dinner."
Thoughts?