Isn't it Romantic? Page 18

Katrine was only surprised it took Shelly so long to ask. She knew at some point in time she’d be forced to explain these matters to her daughter. “I wanted to wait until you were older before we had this discussion, but I think you’re ready now. The problem is, I’m not ready yet. I’ll tell you, Sweetheart. Let’s just make it another day, all right?”

  After a moment of thoughtful deliberation, Shelly nodded. “Okay, Mom. You shouldn’t wait too long to fall in love with Trey, though. I think you might still have a chance with him. He didn’t sound different on the phone. You know, all gooey-brained or anything.”

  Her mother’s answer was a derisive snort. “He didn’t happen to mention what he’d been doing all week that kept him too busy to call you, did he?”

  “No,” Shelly admitted. “But I can ask him. He’ll be over in about an hour.”

  “What?” Katrine choked.

  “He asked if he could come over and bring me a present. Of course I said yes.”

  “Of course you did!” Katrine took several calming breaths. “Shelly, you really should check with me before inviting anyone over.”

  “Oh.” Her daughter understood. “You look geeked out. Well, you’ve got about forty minutes…”

  Despising the erratic beat of her heart, Katrine tried to stifle her urge to run upstairs and make herself more than presentable. “Trey’s seen me at my worst before. There’s no reason to rush around trying to fix myself up. I told you, beauty’s only skin deep.”

  “Yeah,” Shelly grumbled. “He’s probably been bombarded by surface beauty all week. You’ll be a nice change.”

  A thoughtful pause followed.

  “You find me something to wear, I’ll take care of this ponytail.”

  “Right.” Her daughter saluted.

  ———

  Thirty minutes later, Katrine smoothed a short cashmere skirt over her hips. “Shelly, don’t you think I’m a little overdressed for a Sunday afternoon?”

  “You look hot in pink,” her daughter assured her. “The sweater and skirt’s just the thing. Sweet but sexy.”

  A frown marred the smooth skin of Katrine’s forehead. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Coco Chanel, but it’s cashmere. I look like I’m going somewhere special. Maybe I’d better wear slacks instead.”

  The bell chimed.

  “Too late.” Shelly smiled. “If he says anything. pretend you have a date. You’ve got great legs, Mom. You should show them off more.”

  “A date?” Katrine puzzled. “Why would I tell him I have a date when I don’t?”

  “Ugh,” Shelly groaned. “To show him two can play his game. For the same reason Bridget told Stephen she was engaged in Act of Love. To make yourself more interesting. Hello, is anyone in there?” Shelly asked when Katrine stood, staring at nothing.

  “I see what you’re getting at, but honesty is always the best policy in any relationship. I intend to be polite and in control for a change, and fight the usual urge I feel to kill him within five minutes after he’s walked through the door. I’d appreciate a few moments of privacy with Trey.”

  “Sure, Mom. But don’t forget, he’s bringing me a present so I don’t want to wait too long to see what it is.”

  “Only ten minutes or so,” Katrine requested. “Just long enough to see if he’s acting gooey-brained.”

  She winked at Shelly while striding from the bedroom.

  Vowing to hide the horrible jealousy eating away at her if Trey did act suddenly disinterested, Katrine walked down the stairs and to the door. As she reached for the knob, she wondered why she’d let Shelly talk her into the pink cashmere sweater set.

  True, the short skirt complimented her long legs and the cashmere hugged her slender frame, accenting her womanly curves, but what if Trey thought she made a fuss expressly for his benefit? A date? She couldn’t purposely lie if he commented on her appearance.

  Katrine took a deep breath and opened the door. Her gaze only locked with Trey’s for a second when the attack came. She felt pressure on her shoulders and hot breath on her face. Her knees went weak as wet kisses rained over her neck. A scream of outrage left her lips when she hit the floor with a thud. “Get it off of me!”

  “Bad dog!” Trey scolded.

  “Make it stop!” Katrine choked, fighting a huge tongue intent on washing every inch of her perfectly made-up face.

  “Oh my,” Shelly panted with excitement from the top of the landing. “It’s a dog!”

  “It’s a horse!” Katrine shouted as a beefy paw raked across her cashmere sweater.

  “It’s Beauregard,” Trey clarified, taking the dog by the collar to pull him from Katrine’s squirming body.

  She sat up, puffing every bit as loud as the animal. “What is it doing here?”

  “Well,” Trey began.

  “He’s for me!” Shelly shouted, running down the stairs. “He’s my present, isn’t he, Trey?”

  “No,” Katrine whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Trey!” Shelly flung herself into his arms. “I love him. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

  “We can’t have a dog,” Katrine squawked. “That beast doesn’t even qualify as one!”

  “He’s a purebred Old English Sheep Dog,” Trey defended. “His owners are moving to another city and have to rent an apartment until they find a house. They can’t take him with them, so…”

  “Is he mine for keeps?” Shelly whispered hopefully.

  “For keeps.” Trey tugged a strand of her long hair. “That is, if you promise to take good care of him.”

  “I will.” She twisted away from Trey to throw her arms around Beauregard’s neck. He rewarded her with a sloppy lick to the cheek.

  “W–Wait just a m–minute,” Katrine stammered, glaring up at Trey. “Did it ever occur to you to ask me if Shelly could have a dog?”

  “It occurred,” he admitted. “I figured you’d say no.”

  “She would,” Shelly said with a nod. “But, Mom, you can’t say no, now. Please? I’ll take care of him. I promise!”

  “Shelly, he’s huge. It will cost a fortune to feed him. Where will we put him?”

  “You make lots of money,” Shelly argued, her arms tightening around the dog’s neck. “We’ve got a backyard.”

  “A graveled backyard,” Katrine reminded.

  “Honey, we can’t—”

  “Every kid in my class has a dog!” Shelly interrupted rebelliously. “Why can’t I have just one thing everyone else has?” Shelly’s eyes filled with tears and rather than wait for further argument from her mother, she tore herself from Beauregard with a cry and raced up the stairs.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Trey said. “You’ve just broken her heart!”

  “Look what I’ve done?” Katrine blustered, her breath coming in short gasps. “Look what that beast did to my sweater! This is cashmere, the finest wool money can buy! He’s ruined my outfit!”

  Beauregard responded with a loud whine before plopping down on the floor, huge paws Outstretched, bushy eyebrows cocked.

  “Just what are you doing in the finest wool money can buy at three o’clock in the afternoon?”1

  Katrine straightened to as tall a height as possible while sitting. “I … I have a date.”

  The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Is that right?”

  “That’s absolutely correct,” she insisted haughtily. “Do you think I’m lying?”

  He smiled. “You’re acting defensive. Are you?”

  “Most certainly not.” Katrine wondered if lightning was about to strike her dead. “Now, get that hairy beast out of here so I can change.”

  “I thought you liked hairy men,” he quipped. “Hairy, dull men.”

  He appeared to be jealous. Katrine was momentarily speechless. Why had he made that comment? She only knew one hairy, dull man. “Carl?” she said absently.

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  Her heartbeat increased as his face turned an angry shade of red. “Maybe,
maybe not. It’s none of your business.”

  The color in his cheeks darkened. “No,” he agreed. “It’s none of my business.”

  His words hung between them, made more ridiculous as Trey’s heated stare roamed her features and lingered over her lips. Impossibly, Katrine’s skin began to tingle. Her breathing became labored.

  Beauregard whined loudly, breaking the spell.

  “You’ve placed me in an awkward position,” Katrine said. “I’m going to be the bad guy if I don’t let Shelly keep this monster. Why couldn’t you have at least called me so we could discuss it?”

  An outstretched hand accompanied his sigh of annoyance. “It was an impulse, okay? Besides, I knew you’d say no unless you saw Beauregard. Every kid should have a dog. I could tell Shelly wanted one that day at the skating rink. When the owners asked me if I knew anyone, I thought of her.”

  Once Katrine gained her feet, the closeness of their bodies almost derailed her train of thought. He smelled wonderful, wore a bright flannel shirt, Levis, and hiking boots. A lumberjack, she decided, envisioning him swinging an ax with his powerful arms.

  “Kind of you to find time in your busy week to think of Shelly. Why haven’t you called her?”

  “An unexpected development came up,” he answered distractedly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Katrine’s eyes. “I’ve been packing all week.”

  The hot blood rushing through her veins suddenly froze. “Packing?”

  “Yeah, I’m moving.” His fingers lightly stroked her cheek.

  “Oh.” Katrine took a step backwards, almost as if she’d been dealt a physical blow. Afraid the sudden devastation his casual words delivered would show on her face, she quickly turned her back on him.

  “Anyway, I figured Shelly would understand once I explained what I’d been doing. I had some time this afternoon and I remembered about Beauregard, so—”

  “So you thought you’d just pop over and give my daughter a trade off?” Katrine asked, wheeling around. Trey’s ex-wife appears out of nowhere, and now he was packing to move. As he’d said that day in Harold’s, Katrine was a smart lady. It didn’t take a genius to piece this pre-school puzzle together.

  “Shelly’s a rational kid. Once I explain—”

  “Just leave!” Katrine interrupted. Her voice shook slightly. How easily those two words ‘I’m moving’ had unraveled her. Moving as in leaving. Leaving as in abandonment. Deep down, Katrine knew she had no valid right to feel injured by Trey’s dismissal of both her and Shelly, But she did hurt.

  Trey eyed her strangely. He looked confused. “I’d at least like to speak with Shelly. Someone should soften the blow. You’re obviously not gifted in that area.”

  “Go on up. But hurry. I want you out of here.”

  “So you can get ready for your date? Heaven forbid if Shelly’s feelings interfere with what you want!”

  “You’re a fine one to talk. You hurt her, and for what? That empty-headed, plastic-coated woman you used to be married to!”

  “Linda?” he questioned in confusion. “I don’t see why my ex-wife would be any threat to Shelly. And,” he added with a smile. “I don’t see where she’s any of your business.”

  Katrine opened her mouth, then quickly closed it. She felt precariously perched on the edge of sanity. She wanted to kill him, she wanted to beg him to stay, if not for her sake, because Shelly had given her heart to him. Katrine did neither. “You’re right,” she agreed flatly. “It’s none of my business. Say your good-byes to Shelly and get out.”

  The look of anticipation etched on his face ebbed. She almost swore he’d been preparing himself for a good fight and now battled disappointment.

  “Fine.” He moved toward the stairs.

  “Fine,” she whispered at his back, despair seeping slowly into her soul.

  Whatever Trey said to Shelly, it didn’t take him long. Katrine heard his feet coming down the stairs shortly after he went up. His wonderful scent reached her as he moved toward the door.

  “What about the feature?” she asked, not turning to face him.

  “What about it?”

  “Do you plan to finish the article?”

  Silence. Katrine supposed he contemplated the consequences if he didn’t.

  “Why wouldn’t I? Hell, I signed the agreement the same as you did.”

  That meant he’d be staying at least two more weeks. Two weeks, so what, she deflated the sudden lift in her spirits. “What night are we going?”

  “Friday night, about seven, if it doesn’t interfere with your schedule.” He sounded odd. As if he forced the polite words past his lips.

  “You’re the one with the busy schedule,” she reminded. “I suppose it’s some compensation to know we’re at least getting paid to date one another.”

  “Not enough.”

  “Definitely, not enough,” she agreed.

  “Until then,” he said stiffly. “Come on, Boy.”

  “Don’t touch that dog.” Katrine turned to face him. “I’ve decided Beauregard stays.”

  An expression of disbelief crossed his rugged features. “Will miracles never cease? You do have a heart.”

  Unfortunately, yes, she mentally answered. “Before you leave me at the mercy of this monster, I’d like to know where we’re going Friday night so I can prepare for battle.”

  Trey smiled. “A hockey game.”

  Her brow lifted. “Well, you’ve certainly, chosen an unromantic setting. Still, it doesn’t sound too bad, and you could have lied so I’d get all dressed up. No calf fries? No mud-wrestling midgets? I’m almost disappointed.”

  He slid a heated gaze down her snagged clothing and mined hose. “I can see where you would be, but then, a washing machine’s a tough act to follow. Don’t worry. I’ve come up with a little added bonus I think will impress you. As I said before, I hate to leave a woman disappointed. Good night.”

  The door slammed. Katrine moved to the wooden obstruction, opened it and slammed it again for good measure. “No, you wouldn’t leave a woman disappointed. You’ll just leave!”

  A sob escaped her throat as she slid to the floor. She’d finally found the nerve to try love again, and now this happened. Trey had to prove her fearful heart right. He had to prove she couldn’t trust in him, or in a second chance at love.

  Beauregard came to his feet with a hearty grunt. He ambled toward her, then hesitated, cocking his head from side to side as the tears ran down her cheeks.

  “What are you looking at? Stupid dog,” she muttered. “How would you know how I feel? You can’t understand how it feels to be abandoned… Oh,” she said softly, “but you do understand, don’t you?”

  The dog lowered his head.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault.” At the sound of her soft tone, Beauregard ventured closer. Unthinking, Katrine reached out to smooth his shaggy coat. “Shelly will take good care of you. She’ll love you, and if you let yourself love her back, the pain you feel will gradually fade. God never takes something away without giving you something in return.”

  A sudden dawning found her. It took years of resentment, of fear, of pain, but Katrine understood the truth behind her own words of consolation. Love could heal her wounds. Shelly had mended her heart, but only believing in another man would release her from the past. “Too late,” she whispered, throwing her arms around Beauregard’s neck to bury her face in his soft hair. “It’s too late.”

  “Mom? What’s wrong, and why is Beauregard still here?”

  Katrine looked up. Shelly stood poised on the stairs. “I decided you can keep him,” she answered in a shaky voice. “Honey, I know how upset you must feel right—”

  “For real? He’s mine?”

  “Well, yes. Now, Honey, I know how hurt you’re feeling—”

  A loud squeal of delight cut her off as Shelly bounded down the stairs. Beauregard barked with excitement, joining her daughter in jumping bliss.

  “Shelly!” Katrine shouted. Both enthusiastic jumpers c
ame to an immediate stand still.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Shelly apologized. “I got so excited. This is great. Trey said he’d keep him since I couldn’t. He said I could come over to his house and play with him anytime, but it’s not the same as having a dog all to myself.”

  “To his house?” Katrine puzzled. “He lives in an apartment and besides, he’s moving.”

  “Duh,” Shelly said. “He’s moving to a house. He’s been packing all week. Trey said he has this huge backyard, and I can come over and play whenever I want.”

  “He’s not leaving, he’s moving?”

  “Yeah. He said the paperwork got done faster than he thought it would, and he had to rush around and pack. That’s what he’s been doing all week.”

  Katrine caught herself just before plummeting over the edge of despair. “Maybe it’s not too late,” she whispered.

  “Trey said his new house has five bedrooms,” Shelly rambled on. “Can you imagine one guy having all that room? Why do you suppose he needs a house that big unless he wants to settle down and have a family?”

  The relief Katrine felt over discovering Trey’s innocent activities fizzled at an alarming rate.

  He’s been seeing his ex-wife, and now he’s bought a huge house. Five rooms? Great, a house full of little Barbies and Kens. He couldn’t have bought a house since last weekend, rationality intruded. Maybe last weekend wasn’t the first time he’d seen Linda since their divorce. Maybe they saw each other on a regular basis.

  Jealousy, the likes of which she’d never experienced, engulfed Katrine. Her feelings for Trey ran deeper than physical attraction. How he’d managed to get under her skin and crawl into her heart, she couldn’t begin to understand, not after the disastrous dates they’d shared. But they had also shared wonderful moments—humorous moments—tender moments…

  “It’s not too late for what?” Shelly seemed to have just registered her remark.

  “To ‘catch’ him, as Cynthia put it,” she answered distractedly, then realized what she’d admitted. When her startled gaze landed on her daughter, a huge grin spread over Shelly’s lips.

  “You’re going for it, aren’t you, Mom?”

  She was tired of lying to herself. Katrine was crazy about Trey Westmoreland … or maybe just plain crazy. “Call me a hopeless romantic, but I’m getting ready to take a deep breath and jump off the deep end.”