Snowed In

Chapter 11

"There you two are," Aunt Theresa declared with an almost mischievous grin. "You were gone for longer than I was expecting." She shot a playful wink at Kate.

Kate tried not to let her aunt's teasing get to her, wondering what her aunt had glimpsed from the back windows. She was still trying to process what had come over her, when she'd tossed a snowball at Castle. It had been rather childish, and so unlike her, but at the same time, it had made her laugh and she'd felt genuine joy at the startled look on his face.

There was just something about the man that brought out a playfulness in her that had long been dormant. And she didn't know how to feel about that. It was all so very confusing.

"Well, never mind," her aunt said, saving her from having to reply. "I heard you arriving and set up some oatmeal for you both."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hollister," Castle said with a nod. "That's very kind."

Kate noticed a familiar smirk spread across her aunt's face, and narrowed her eyes in suspicion, wondering just what was up the older woman's sleeve.

"I've already cleared the dining hall, so I've set it up for you dears here in the breakfast nook," Theresa announced, making a point to look directly at Kate.

Arching her neck over her shoulder, Kate spotted the two bowls of oatmeal, along with various toppings, set up for them at the table within the windowed alcove. It didn't escape her notice that the settings had been placed close together. She turned back and gave her aunt a little look, but Theresa just flashed her a conspiratorial wink, as if this was what she'd planned all along.

Is my aunt trying to play matchmaker?

Shaking her head, Kate suppressed the eyeroll, just in case Castle was paying attention. Thankfully, the author's attention was focused elsewhere. He had already settled down in front of his bowl of oatmeal, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of a warm meal after being out in the cold weather.

"Ooh, craisins, yes please," he declared enthusiastically, picking up the small saucer and pouring a generous helping into his bowl before stopping and looking up at her, as if he'd forgotten the toppings were for both of them.

"Knock yourself out, Castle," she offered, reluctantly sliding into the bench, trying desperately to ignore the thrum of her pulse at his close proximity.

"Don't mind if I do."

She bit her lower lip to stifle a giggle at the almost child-like glee in his sparkling blue eyes.

"I'll be in office if you need me," Aunt Theresa announced, untying her apron and handing it on the hook by the door. She glanced over her shoulder as she left, offering Kate one last conspiratorial wink.

Kate squinted, staring at the retreating back of her aunt. Truth was this wouldn't be the first time her Aunt Theresa tried setting her up with someone. At least this time if wasn't some baby-faced Sheriff's Deputy who'd only gotten the job before his father was on the city council.

"Pass the cream, please," Castle's voice snapped her back.

She blinked and offered a nod, reaching over to pick up the small pitcher. A jolt of electricity sparked when their fingers brushed in the handoff. Her eyes jerked up to lock with his and they spent what seemed like forever simply staring into one another's eyes.

Damn. She really could get lost in his eyes.

Kate hurriedly went about the task of pouring her preferred toppings over her oatmeal before adding the cream. Castle glanced at her preferences and let out a little snort.

"What?" she huffed out indignantly.

"Nothing."

"No… what is it?"

"Just," he hesitated, glancing at her warily. "Plain oatmeal. Rather bland. Where's the creativity?"

"I added brown sugar and walnuts," she objected.

"Still… rather pedestrian, really," he insisted.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're messing with me."

"Am I?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes. You are."

"I didn't know you were a mind reader."

"No, that's stupid," Kate interjected, this time not even bothering to hide her eyeroll. "I'm just good at reading people. It comes with the job."

"So am I," Castle asserted. "Also comes with the job."

"Oh really?"
He hummed as he lifted a spoonful of his oatmeal. "How do you think I come up with so many nuanced and realistic characters."

"Yeah," she harrumphed. "Marla the big boobed hooker with a heart of gold was really nuanced."

His eyes went alight. It was only a second too late that she realized her mistake.

"Hell Hath No Fury? Angry wiccans out for blood! Ha! I knew it. Only hardcore Castle groupies read that one," he grinned, triumphant. He even did a little fist pump. Really!? He was such a child.

"Shut up," she grumbled, and stabbed her oatmeal with her spoon.

He just chuckled, seemingly content to eat in quiet. Normally she wouldn't mind, but a question kept niggling at the back of her mind and she just had to ask.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Castle blinked, stopping midway through chewing a mouthful of oatmeal. He glanced at her with started eyes, before swallowing, and licking his lips.

"Sure," he answered hesitantly.

Kate took a deep breath before asking, "Why'd you get divorced?"

His eyes went wide. Kate had known the question would startle him. After her talk with Lanie, she was willing to admit she was attracted to Castle. But if she was going to risk her heart with this man who had a very public reputation, then she needed to know some things before she willingly opened herself up to getting hurt. Again.

In an obvious move to distract from his discomfort over the topic, Castle let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Which time?"

Kate made a mental note that humor was his chosen coping mechanism. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "Well… both, I guess."

"Wow, okay, this really is a personal question, then."
"Yeah, I… I know," Kate conceded, anxiously nibbling her bottom lip. "But… if… if what we're doing here is… I… I need to know."
He narrowed his eyes. "I see."

"Do you?" she wondered, because they weren't really speaking out loud what was being heavily implied.

"I think so."

Kate swallowed, her eyes flicking over his features, trying to read him like she would a suspect in the interrogation box.

"You like me," he said, smiling a little, clearly pleased with the assertion. "And you're thinking about more than friends liking, but you're worried."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not exactly a safe bet. I'm the guy that upsets the applecart. You're…," he thought for a bit before deducing, "Protecting yourself."

"I guess you could say that, yes."

"And you want to know the truth, in my own words, about the reputation I have as a lady's man."

She had to laugh at the way he phrased it. "Amongst other things, yes."

He nodded. "I understand."

"So…," she prompted when he went silent.

"Okay," he let out a long breath. "I guess I'm doing this." It seemed to surprise him. Kate took that as a positive sign that he was going to be genuine and honest with her. Though, she had to admit, so far in their acquaintanceship he'd been nothing but sincere.

Castle shifted against the bench in the breakfast nook so he could look at her more properly. She did the same, holding her breath as she awaited his explanation.

"Gina and I looked good on paper," he explained.

"Gina… she's your editor?"

He nodded. "We work well together and get along. But we're very different people. And our working relationship didn't really translate all that well into a romantic one."

"I can understand that, I suppose." Kate thought of her brief relationship with a robbery detective.

"Meredith, my first wife—Alexis's mother—well, she's a different story," he said, more cautiously. His brow knitted together as he stared off into a dark place. "We didn't have the same priorities, and that's all I really want to say about that. For now. If… well… if we… then perhaps…"

"I see," she said, even though she really didn't. "You weren't… unfaithful?"

"Me… no."

Interesting response, she noted. There was definitely something there. Something that had hurt him. Kate, being a train detective, suspected infidelity must have been the reason for the breakup of his first marriage. His clipped reply to her query on faithfulness seemed to answer that. But she wouldn't press him on it, seeing how he still seemed so visibly hurt by whatever had happened.

"And you?"

"Huh?" she blinked, startled.

"Seems only fair," he remarked.

Kate frowned, not sure she entirely agreed. She wasn't the one that had been divorced twice and cavorted around with big boobed bimbettes and celebutants. But she couldn't deny him such reassurance now, especially after what he'd been willing to share with her.

Cards on the table, she supposed.

"All right," she agreed.

He shifted; his eyes riveted on her. It was a bit unnerving, the way he looked at her, as if she was about to reveal some epic story.

"What do you want to know?"

"Ever been a married?"

She let out a little laugh, and shook her head. "Me? No. Never been."

"Really?"

Kate didn't understand why that surprised him.

"Yep."

"Why not?"

She furrowed her brow as she answered. "I'm not an 'if at first you don't succeed' kind of a girl, Castle. When it comes to marriage I'm more of a 'one and done' type."

"Oh," he raised an eyebrow, and then leaned forward. "Any serious candidates?"

Kate swallowed, her gaze involuntarily dropping to his lips before she realized it and dragged eyes back up to his.

"Not really. No." She lied.

"Come on," he groaned, teasing her with a jab of his elbow into her side as he turned back to his meal. "You've got to have some skeletons in the closet. We all have."
She grumbled, hating that he was right. "Fine, okay," she looked away, shocked she was willing to confide in a man such as Richard Castle. The memory still hurt, but as he had said, it was only fair. He'd shared something that clearly still hurt him, so she supposed she should return the favor. Yet, as she opened her mouth, she took a sharp detour, not yet ready to revisit the painful memories that surrounded her training officer. Instead, she disclosed a different tale, but one that still had hurt.

"There was this kidnapping case, and it… ended badly," Kate stated, still remembering the devastation of being too late to save the young girl. "We'd worked the case with the FBI. And even though it was terrible, I really got along with one of the agents."

"Let me guess, squared jaw and serious."

Kate had to laugh at how accurate his description of Will Sorenson was. Though she sobered quickly as she continued her story. "We dated for six months. I thought we were serious, but then… he accepted a promotion to Boston without even telling me."

Castle raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. He just reached out and placed a hand over hers. The silent support meant more to her than she could articulate in words.

"I… I'm over it now," she insisted, forcing herself to look up and meet his gaze, though the slight waver in her voice might have betrayed her.

He offered her hand a light squeeze before retreating. "I think, Kate Beckett, that we understand one another."

"Do we?" Kate frowned, surprised she asked it out loud.

Castle glanced at her with a soft smile. "We've both been hurt."

More than you know, Kate thought. Yet perhaps not. His reading of her on their lunch date had been eerily accurate. He might not know the exact specifics, but she supposed he knew enough to understand. She looked at him, watching as he silently went back to his breakfast.

She almost hated to admit it, but she'd been wrong about him. There was more to him than the playboy author, and she was beginning to see it. Yes, he'd flirted with her, but she'd freely flirted back, enjoying the banter. Plus, with the exception of the kiss on the cheek from the other day, he hadn't really put any moves on her. That went against his established reputation. A reputation that, as her aunt and uncle had suggested, might not be deserved.

It was then that she made her decision.

Castle noticed her staring at him. A puzzled look briefly flashed over his face and he offered a smile, before then returning to his meal. Kate smiled softly, and did likewise.

Yes, she nodded to herself, decision reaffirmed. Perhaps it was worth the risk.