His Sugar Baby(87)

Though he was standing close, he did not reach out to touch her. He pivoted, leaned forward to wrap his hands over the back of the bench. He tightened his fingers on the warm wood. His pose was deliberately casual, but he felt the tension bunched in his shoulders. Without looking at her, he said, “I wanted to come.”

“I heard that you’re divorced.”

“Yes.” Emotions and speculation whirled in his turbulent mind. He stared straight ahead, his brows contracted. He had not worn his sunglasses so he did not want to look at her again. He did not want her to read too much in his eyes. “Why did you ask to see me?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. She watched his strong profile. Her whole body quivered with awareness of him. “Maybe because of the way things turned out. Maybe because I didn’t know if that was the way things were supposed to turn out.”

“You’ve got to know that I had strong feelings for you.”

“You, Michael? An emotional attachment?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm and bitterness that surfaced.

“Yes.” He turned his head. The shadows in his eyes had deepened to transparent pain. “I never told you. I regret that every single day.”

Something shifted inside her. All of her careful defenses cracked. The familiar hunger flowed through her. She wavered, remembering what her therapist had said, but she gave in to the need. “Would you—would you hold me?” she whispered.

She waited while Michael’s gaze searched her face. Whatever he saw in her expression made him suck in his breath. Carefully, as though he was afraid that she might break, he drew her forward into his embrace. His strong arms enveloped her, pulling her close. Her arms slid around his trim waist, and her cheek pressed against his shirtfront. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. Cathy closed her eyes. The warmth of his body and his well-remembered scent seeped into her senses. She felt the rightness, and the fear that had remained coiled inside her for too long finally unraveled.

They stood locked close together for several heartbeats.

“Winter—Catherine…” He loosened his arms and eased back from her until there were inches of space between them. His hands slid down her bare arms as he put her away from him, and his fingers brushed over the gold bangle bracelet on her wrist. He glanced down. His eyes rose swiftly back up to her face, and something lit up in them. “You’re wearing it?”

Cathy refused to reply to his question. “Actually, it’s Catherine Winter.” She didn’t mind that he had stepped back. She badly needed the distance. She was shaking inside with nerves. “And before you say it, no, I don’t think it will be better for me if I just walked away.”

Michael looked stunned. He visibly pulled himself together. “What are you, a mind reader?”

“Well, you’re not all that difficult to read,” she said tartly. “I got to know you… intimately.”

He physically winced. “That was low, even if I deserved it.”

“Love hurts. Bite me.” She saw astonishment spring into his face. Cathy swung around to blindly watch the children at play. She was as stunned as Michael by what had come out of her mouth.

Love hurts. Yes, it does. She knew that perhaps better than most. Yet she had survived. She turned over the words in her mind, examining them with increasing wonder at what had been hidden amongst the debris and confusion in her heart. She had once, and very reluctantly, realized that she had fallen in love with Michael. Then she had thought she hated him. It was a revelation to discover that love had survived. The question was, what did she want now? She could sense Michael staring at her, but she didn’t turn back to him.

Finally, when he spoke, there was disbelief and something that sounded very close to hope coloring his voice. “Are you saying that you can forgive me? For everything that I—for what I did?”

Cathy looked down at the wide gold bangle gleaming round her wrist. “I already have. It’s why I’m wearing the bracelet.” She looked up at him then. There was an incredulous expression on his face. She tried to smile but failed miserably. Her stupid heart began to hammer in an annoying way.

His expression grew somber. “I found out a lot about Winter. But I don’t know much about Catherine,” he said quietly. “I’d like to get to know you, Catherine. Will you let me do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can,” she said softly.

“I’m not asking for what we had before. I want you to understand that.” Michael tunneled one hand through his crisp dark hair. “I–I just want us to start over, like we just met today. Do you think we can do that?”

Cathy was so tense inside that she felt like she would crack in two. Mindful of what she had learned in therapy, she wanted to be careful not to fall into their old power structure. She wanted a partner, not just a lover, someone to grow old with, not just someone to see for a season of nights. “Maybe.”

He gestured politely down at the bench. Cathy hesitated, but then she went around and sat down. He seated himself at the other end. She appreciated that he was willing to give her some space. Michael shifted uncomfortably on the bench before he turned toward her. His eyes were searching. “I don’t want to rush things. I’d like to take our time.”

“It’s an idea.” She paused. “We could start with coffee. Maybe at an outside café on SoCo.”