Chapter 3
It was the buzz of the gate at the end of the driveway that stirred Kate awake. She pushed up in her seat, used a knuckle to rub from her eyes the haze of the inadvertent doze she'd drifted into during the ride, and gave a look out the window into the darkness.
"Are we here?"
The touch of a croak in her throat inspired a silent chuckle from Rick as he navigated the unfamiliar bends that guided them toward the house that he'd managed to secure for them, as he'd promised, for as long as they wanted to stay.
"Not that tired, huh?" he teased, bringing the car to a stop in front of a trio of garage doors and turning off the engine. "You didn't last fifteen minutes."
"Sorry, I didn't think I was."
By daring or by stupidity—perhaps equal parts both—Rick reached over and stroked the exposed skin at the back of her neck, let his fingers still there. Kate didn't flinch, didn't object, and the absence of either took him by pleasant surprise, to say the least.
"Don't be. It was an easy drive, and as painful as it is to admit, I'm not the most entertaining company at the moment." He brought his hand back to the wheel. She didn't tell him she wished he hadn't, but she thought it. "It was nice just sitting with you," he said and unfastened his seatbelt. "Wait here and let me go get some lights on for us. I'll be right back, assuming I don't break my neck tripping over a wolf or a pile of gold bars or whatever they have out here in Moneybagsville Forest."
They'd come to an affluent area, known for its famed residents and big bank accounts, but while the city it was not, his representation of it was, in typical Richard Castle fashion, greatly exaggerated.
With the car's headlights left on in aid, he headed off. Alone, Kate flipped down the visor to the mirror hidden behind it, tucked a wisp of rebellious hair back behind each ear, and when her fingers grazed her neck where his had just been, she caught her reflection in a rosy little smile.
Love was breathing in her, not just alive but living, freed by her surrender to the truth that had for so long been chiseling away at the fortress she'd built around her heart. There was no uncertainty, no avoidance, no argument to be made that the effects on her mind and body of even the smallest of his gestures were evidence of anything but love, and waiting there for him to come for her delivered her a palpable charge.
When the walkway that connected the driveway with the front of the house lit up, she switched off the Benz's lights and got out, met Rick at the back where they stored their bags.
"All the better to see you with, my dear." Standing with him in the glow she crooked her head at the cartoonish voice he fumbled into. "The wilderness looks good on you."
"Wilderness?" Kate puffed out a laugh. "It's a few trees in front of a mansion, Castle, and the only wolf out here was your lousy attempt at the impression of one. You really need to get out of the city more."
With his keys he popped open the trunk, pulled out their stuff.
"If that was you inviting, Detective, this is me accepting. I've got it," he told her when she tried to grab her duffle from him. "Okay, come on, I'll follow you, and just know that if a gang of raccoons jumps out of the bushes along the way and tries to carry you off, the shrieking you hear from back here will absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent, be me doing everything I can to save you."
She giggled over it all the way to the front door.
"You'll have to bear with me here. I've never been up to the house before, so I have no idea where anything is," Rick announced as he ushered her inside.
A waterfall of crystal that was the foyer's chandelier twinkled high above them, casting a snowflake-like geometry of shadows on the ceiling and the walls that was as much a work of art as its maker, but the mystery of what that lay beyond its reach was one more for the partners to uncover together.
"Should we start our snooping—sanctioned snooping by the owner—downstairs first?"
It'd been just three days, but Kate had missed hearing that giddiness in his voice. Despite that the situation hardly called for it, she found herself charmed, nonetheless.
With their bags set aside he unpocketed his phone, tapped the symbol on the screen for the flashlight. "Let's go scope out these digs. I'll lead this time, and in the interest of full disclosure, if I happen to bump into anything valuable and break it, when I tell Paula about it, I'm probably going to blame it on you." Kate's disapproval manifested in clenched fists firmed against her hips. "I'm not saying I'm proud of it. You don't know Paula. One time, she just stared down a guy and he cried. She didn't even have to say anything to him."
"I'm going to go out on a limb here, Castle, and guess that you're the guy in that sad, sad, story?"
"No."
It was only a one-word reply, but if ever there was a time that she could've accused him of protesting too much and been justified, that was it, so to save himself further embarrassment he immediately fessed up, sort of.
"Yes. But it was only, like, three tears, and it was spring, so it was probably more allergies or something."
"Uh-huh."
Kate gave him a playful elbow to the back, and they set off to explore, eventually winding up back in the kitchen where they parked themselves.
"I swear this room is bigger than my whole apartment," she observed with a combination of awe and puzzlement. "It's pretty, I get that, but why does anyone need this much space?" Her head swiveled back around to Rick, who was seated beside her at the island on a matching zebra-striped suede stool. "You probably feel right at home. I bet your house in the Hamptons is a lot like this place. I don't know. I guess I'm just simpler than all of this."
"You? Simple?" He let out a guffaw and earned another nudge. "Well, you'll just have to accept the next time I invite you and find out what it's like for yourself, won't you? Actually, like me and the Hamptons, Paula doesn't spend a whole lot of time here, but for her that's by design."
"What do you mean?"
"She's very much the city, Paula, every bit as alive as it is. Its energy is a daily accessory for her. Her ex-husband was the one who wanted this house, or at least to be able to brag to his fellow hedge fund douchebags about having it, so they bought it. When she kicked him to the curb for you-know-whatting the office intern, she made sure she took it. Yeah," he added, "it wasn't one of those fun divorces you always hear about."
The two shared a smile.
"Sounds like she'd make a fun character for a book," Kate suggested, kidding and not.
"Oh, give Storm Fall another read. Paula's made an appearance. She hasn't let me forget it, either."
Kate's eyebrows narrowed at the exasperation in his tone.
"Let's just say she would've preferred quantity to quality. You see, Beckett, there are three things my agent is very fond of: murderous high heels, deals that come with a lot of zeros, and attention. I suppose that makes at least one thing the two of you have in common," he noted and shot a glance down to her feet, which were uncustomarily clad in sensible black sneakers. "I'm sure her Italian marble floors are partial to those."
"One thing for me and two for you," Kate retorted. "Maybe the problem was you married your publisher instead of your agent, Castle."
"Point goes to the detective."
He pushed backward off his stool and wandered over to the refrigerator to investigate its contents. Aside from a jar of salad dressing that resembled a color it shouldn't and an assortment of Chinese takeout condiment packets, all it held was a few bottles of water of which he plucked two.
"The problem was that I got married, period. No mystery there for me to cash in on." He handed off a bottle, resumed his seat. "Hey, you know what might be more fun for everyone is if we leave my ex-wives out of this weekend…and every other weekend, while we're at it."
"Yeah," Kate agreed lightly, and they drank.
It was Rick who broke the ensuing quiet.
"What are we doing out here, Kate? Why did you—" Suddenly, like an offstage switch was thrown on a cue, a low thrum began to fill the open space all around them. "Rain. They said on the news it's supposed to hang around all weekend. I hope it isn't an omen. It's already been a pretty shitty week."
Fat drops pelted the floor-to-ceiling glass at the back of the house and they both sat and listened, she to it, he to her. She offered no response to his question, said nothing at all. From that he heard a lot. From that he presumed Mother Nature's interruption was for her a welcome one and decided not to push further. Pushing never ended well.
"Now it's definitely late. We should probably head upstairs and find us a couple of bedrooms to settle in, get some sleep. You were tired earlier. You must be exhausted now, and my abs are ready for their workout."
No, Castle, I don't want to settle or sleep or be anywhere except right here with you. I want to tell you all the things I'm sure of, the things I feel but haven't said. I'm only tired of waiting, and I don't want to do it anymore, not one more night, not one more minute.
Rick got up again, walked across the room, and switched off the overhead light, remained there in the dimmed doorway.
"Beckett," he said in what was a third attempt at her attention, unaware he already had it, that she was still processing the two previous. With them reality had slapped her across the face.
The everyday sound of her name on his tongue told her that those words, that plea, hadn't found their way out of her mouth to his ears. She'd choked on them, and with a bottle of water in her hand no less.
If the sting of it wasn't as vicious as it was, it might've been comical.
"Are you ready?"
She was. She was ready, but he wouldn't know it that night.
"I am," she answered over the pounding rain, but that was all.