Snowed In

Chapter 8

Alone in her usual bedroom within the residential quarter of the Hollister Bed & Breakfast, Kate sat cross-legged on the bed and tried not to think too much on what a babbling fool she'd made of herself earlier that evening. She scrubbed her hands down her face, and wondered what the hell was going on with her. All she had wanted to do while on leave from work was help out around the BnB and lend a hand to Aunt Theresa with looking after Uncle Herb once he was released from the hospital. Nowhere had she expected to bump into Richard Castle, playboy author extraordinaire, and start… feeling things.

After she'd embarrassed herself in front of him with the hot chocolate — what had she been thinking? — Kate had been dreading serving dinner to the guests in the dining hall, but thankfully her aunt took care of dishing out the meal of pea soup with grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. All Kate had to do was deal with the bulk of the cooking and clean up, which was fine with her. She actually quite liked it. Gave her something else to focus on.

"It's funny," her aunt had said, coming back in with a bemused expression. "Mr. Castle requested some chocolate milk." She let out a little laugh. "Asked for more than one carton, if I didn't mind."

"Such a child," Kate had tried cracking a joke to hide her confused feelings, but her aunt saw right through her. Fortunately, she didn't make any comment. Instead, she collected the requested drinks onto a tray and carried it out to their guests.

Uncle Herb had chuckled from his spot in the kitchen nook, where he was finishing up his soup, sans ham and cheese sandwich, much to his disappointment.

"You've got a crush on him, Katie," he had said upon seeing her puzzled look. "Always have. Ever since Jo bought that first book with his picture on the cover. More so after… well… after…" He'd left the rest unsaid. They both knew what he'd meant.

Suppressing the sad thoughts of her mother, Kate had sat down next to him and spilled her guts. She'd always held a soft spot for her Uncle Herb. As a Hollister, he had a different perspective than her paternal and maternal blood relatives, and he'd always given her sound advice in the past. Mostly, though, he'd just listened, which was very much appreciated.

"You like him," had been his conclusion, emphasized with a nod. "There's no crime in that, sweetheart."

"But… but… his reputation!" had been her rebuttal. Even she'd known it was weak, but she couldn't just agree. Being stubborn was a Beckett family specialty. Her mother had often regaled her with tales of how long she'd fought her feelings for Jim Beckett until she could no longer deny those feelings.

Herb had smiled warmly at her and patted her hand. "Earned or not, I think you should judge the man for yourself and not what others have said. But that's just me." He'd paused, frowning when his electronic wristwatch started to beep.

He'd made a disgruntled noise at the annoying alarm. Kate had given him one of her patented looks. "Time for your pills," she'd reminded him.

"I know," Herb had grumbled, reluctantly accepting the glass of water from her.

Now, sitting on the bed, and thinking back on that conversation with her Uncle Herb, Kate found herself contemplating his suggestion. It was unfair of her to judge Castle simply based off of what the papers and gossip mags said about him. She, more than anyone else, knew just how exaggerated those articles could be. Still… it was an undeniable fact that he paraded around with bimbettes and celebutantes on his arm.

But…

No.

She was just fooling herself.

Yet…

Ugh.

Kate growled in frustration. The last piece of evidence she'd seen to prove his playboy ways was one of those late night talk shows. Castle had been promoting the recently announced collaboration between Black Pawn and Dark Horse in producing graphic novels of the Derrick Storm adventures. And like a good little Castle fan groupie, Kate had preordered the first issue.

But that wasn't the point.

Was it?

She was suddenly unsure where it was her line of thinking had been heading until… yeah.

Ellie Monroe.

The below average actress—granted, just her opinion, but Kate's opinion was usually pretty good—had been the other guest on the show and had unashamedly flirted with Castle during the whole broadcast. Later the fan forums and blogs had speculated about a relationship between the two—not that Kate spent too much time on those blogs, definitely not, no—and there had even been some photos snapped of the pair outside some restaurant… holding hands.

But since then, the forums—which she definitely didn't check on a habitual basis—had noted he hadn't been spotted with anyone other than his mother and ex-wife/publisher in the following weeks.

Shaking her head, Kate carded her fingers through her hair and let out a muted groan. All this thinking was giving her a headache. Why her? Why did this have to happen? She didn't need—or want—some infatuation with a semi-famous mystery novelist, no matter how charming or ruggedly handsome he may be.

Kate let out a long breath, and glanced out the window, frowning at what she saw. She grabbed her cellphone and opened up the weather app. Snow. And more snow. She pursed her lips. This wasn't good. Not good at all.

Her thoughts blessedly shifted, as concern for her uncle's health started to supersede her muddled thoughts over Richard Castle. She believed they had enough of his pills. Uncle Herb was in good spirits after dinner, and besides being tired, he seemed to be on the mend. If things progressed along those lines, then they should be okay. She fervently hoped that he didn't have another incident that required hospital treatment if the snowfall increased and made the roads impassable.

Shit. Now she was starting to spiral in a different sort of worrying.

Shaking her head, Kate swung her legs over the side of the bed and went over to her backpack, needing a distraction. She'd hastily packed three paperbacks before leaving her apartment. The book she pulled out had a cracked spine and a bit of wear and tear.

In other words: Well-read.

Padding back over to the bed, she climbed on and stretched out her legs as she leaned back against the headboard. She lifted the paperback and nearly groaned when she saw the cover.

"Really!?"

Out of all the books she had to pack, she just had to pack one of his.

Several minutes passed as she just stared at the cover of Gathering Storm. And then she rolled her eyes. She was being ridiculous. It was just a book. And even if it was his words, they still captivated her. Relaxing back, and tucking her legs under the duvet, Kate cracked open the book, and within moments she was lost in the story of Derrick Storm and his on-again, off-again romantic interest CIA Agent Clara Strike.

XXX

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

She was drop dead gorgeous, no doubt about that. But there was more to her than her striking good looks. She had a haunted look in her eyes, like something deep and sorrowful held her back from living life to the fullest.

The story he'd spun during their date had been close to the mark. Too close. Her shimmering eyes had said so. Some sort of tragedy marred her past, and became the driving force behind her chosen career path. He had been right when he said under normal circumstances, most smart, good-looking women become lawyers, not cops.

Sighing, Castle scrubbed a hand down his face, and paced the small cramped room—sorry suite. He had not expected this to happen. When Gina had suggested he go up to some Bed & Breakfast in upstate New York, never in his wildest dreams—and his dreams could be plenty wild—did he expect encountering a supermodel cop. Okay, that was unfair. Kate Beckett was far more than a stunning beauty. She was that rare combination. Not only did she have the killer looks, but she had the brains to back them up. And she was a mystery to him. A mystery he'd very much like to solve.

Kate Beckett was the complete package.

And oddly enough, she very much resembled his dream woman.

Funny, he thought. I always thought she'd have blonde hair.

He'd had a thing for blondes for the last couple of years. Gina being the exception. While, yes, they'd been married, it had been the most sexless relationship he'd ever been in. They did have sex, obviously, and he was very much attracted to Gina, but it was more in the physical sense, with no real deep emotions.

So why had they married?

It just seemed right on paper, he supposed. The author and the editor.

In practice, however, it did not work well.

There were many reasons their marriage fell apart, but their working relationship wasn't one of them, which was why they'd managed to keep that professional connection even after their divorce.

As if the harpy could sense his thoughts, Castle's iPhone started to ring. The caller ID showed his ex-wife's name.

"Gina," he answered with forced levity.

"Richard," she replied in the stern manner he'd grown accustomed to. There had been a time he'd found that tone of voice incredibly hot. Not now. "Any news to report?"
"Ah, yes… well, I've started formulating some ideas," he said, hedging a bit, as he hadn't really made the sort of progress she'd been expecting.

"What sort of ideas?" she asked, the suspicion heavy in her voice.

"Good ideas, yes," he bobbed his head. "Good ideas."

"For example?"

Castle let out a groan. "All right, you got me," he admitted, unable to bear the pressure. "No chapters, if that's what you're getting at. But… but… I do have a rough character outline."

"A new character. That's… promising." She almost sounded encouraging. "Care to share?"

"Still gestating," was his reply.

He heard Gina let out an exacerbated sigh. "Richard, you need to focus. Black Pawn needs at least one chapter of something new by the end of the week. Proof of progress. I may not be your wife anymore, but I'm still your champion here. I'm doing my best, but you've got to share the load. Get me something soon, Richard. I can only hold the vultures at bay for so long."

Castle swallowed, feeling a tad bit guilty. "I know," he said, and repeated it for good measure. "I know. And I really appreciate it. I do. Everything you do. And I promise you I do have something. It's just… still marinating at the moment."

"Well, time to start cooking it, Richard. Now," Gina ordered. "Write. And I'll call you again. Soon."

And with that, his ex-wife/editor disconnected the call.

Castle heaved in a deep breath and plopped down onto the mattress, running his fingers through his hair and trying not to let the pressure to produce words upon words burn him up. He sat there for several minutes, just staring at the growing darkness outside the window. The snow was intensifying, which was a little worrying considering how isolated they all were out here in Strange Creek.

Yet, despite it all, he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to the lovely Kate Beckett, and how adorable she'd been when she'd presented him that cup of hot chocolate… with marshmallows! He'd been disappointed when she hadn't made an appearance during dinner.

He wondered… was she a distraction? It wasn't something he needed at the moment. Not with Gina hounding him. She was right about Black Pawn needing proof that he was working on a new book. His oh so wise daughter had skimmed his contract with the publishing house and told him they'd sue for breach of contract, demanding his advance back, if he didn't hold up his end and produce a new book.

Perhaps killing off Derrick Storm had been a mistake. However, he had not been lying when he'd told Kate that he'd grown bored with the character.

He needed a new character. Someone exciting. Someone that got his blood pumping.

Someone fun and sexy, with a slightly tragic past, and an air of mystery about her.

Her.

Kate Beckett was all those things. And more. Oh, so much more.

His muse.

Pushing up from the bed, Castle went over to the little desk, and picked up the papers from last night. The rough outline of a new character that he'd started to build after his initial encounters with the beautiful woman. His eyes scanned over his words, the image of a character building in his head. Tough and savvy with some hotness thrown in.

"She needs a name."

He sat down at the desk and picked up a pencil, scribbling away at the top of the outline, putting together different combinations of names, desperately attempting to find one that fit the sexy female detective he had forming in his head.

And then it hit him.

He smirked, crossing off the other possibilities, and leaving one left.

He had a name.

He had his new detective. And she was going to be… extraordinary.

Nikki Heat.