Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
CATE
“When will Grüsh be back?” Hope asks, looking over at me as we walk the beach’s boardwalk on what could be any regular Tuesday morning.
Except it isn’t. It’s the first morning I’ve woken alone in two weeks.
And I hated it. Going to sleep without him last night was even worse.
I tossed and turned for hours, finally kicking the bedding off and stomping to the living room, where I read a few chapters of romance book I’ve been looking forward to, none of which I absorbed, before schlepping my miserable self back to the empty bed that seemed far bigger than it ever did in the previous six years.
“I don’t know when he’ll be back because he doesn’t know.
The band’s summer tour is lighter than a full tour, so hopefully he’ll be able to squeeze in a couple of quick visits when they’re on the east coast or maybe the Midwest. If not, I guess it’ll be in the fall, after the summer shows have wrapped and before he goes into the studio to work on the next album. ”
“You can’t honestly believe he’d stay away that long.”
I shrug, but it’s manufactured indifference. “A couple months is nothing compared to six years.”
Hope stops and faces me while gently rocking the stroller wagon where Cagrü sleeps peacefully. “And Grüsh leaving town now is nothing like when he left six years ago.”
“I know.”
“So do I, because you shared the entire story with me. Which is why I’m not going to let you default to self-protective mode. It’s okay to be upset about him leaving, or impatient for him to come back, or wanting him to rearrange his career so you have more time together.”
“I would never ask or expect him to do that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. But you’re allowed to wish it. Missing him and wanting him close doesn’t make you needy or any less independent.”
The snorted laugh that pushes past my lips startles the baby awake. His little green fingers curl into tiny fists that punch the air as he squirms and smacks his lips. I’ve spent enough time with him in the first two weeks of his life to know he’s working up to an eruption.
Hope scans the boardwalk, probably looking for the closest empty bench so she can sit and nurse him, even though she fed him half an hour ago at my apartment.
Harmony Glen’s local doctors aren’t experienced with troll infants, but they’ve been connecting with other physicians across the country to become better informed.
Based on the available data—formal and informal—Cagrü’s ravenous appetite is typical for a newborn troll.
And he’s gaining steadily, much more rapidly than a human baby typically does, so there’s no concern that his need to feed so frequently is rooted in a nutritional deficit.
Baby is thriving. As for his mom… Hope is healing well from the surgery, but the deep shadows below her eyes are visual evidence that she’s physically exhausted.
Ogram is doing what he can to help, even suggesting she switch to formula, or use it supplementarily, so he could take on some of the feedings, but Hope gave him a firm no.
Whatever she chooses, she has my support. Right now, she also has my arms.
“Come to Nana, sweet boy,” I say, lifting him and settling his head against my shoulder. Some cooing, a bit of gentle bouncing, and soft pats on his tiny bottom do the trick. The squirming and lip-smacking taper off, his breathing settling into a steady rhythm.
Hope exhales, the tension leaving her shoulders. “He never falls asleep that quickly in my arms. You have the magic touch.”
“No magic. I’m just better rested and don’t smell like breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.”
Her quiet giggle ends with a softer sigh as she angles her head and smiles at the dark-haired bundle in my arms. “He’s so beautiful.”
“The most beautiful child in the world,” I say, stroking the silky-soft dark-brown fluff bordering his perfect little green face.
“I don’t even care that he never lets me sleep more than a couple hours at a stretch, and sometimes I’m so tired, I actually cry.
Or that my hands are drier than the desert from washing them constantly.
Or that I’ve gone through more menstrual pads in the past two weeks than in my entire life and it’s starting to feel as if I’ll never stop bleeding.
He’s worth every second of frustration, inconvenience, ruined clothing, panic, self-doubt, sleep deprivation, and fear. I love him so much.”
“A mother’s love.”
“In this case. But take away the baby-specific stuff and the rest applies to Ogram, too. My love for him is part of me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and I know he feels the same. Mate bond love.” Her gaze lifts from the baby’s face to mine. “You know what it feels like.”
I do. That’s why the first thing I did this morning was look at flights to Los Angeles, even though the subject of going with him never made it into any recent conversation.
The second thing I did was go through the summer schedule for the bar to see when staff had booked time off, and contemplate who could do the day-to-day managerial stuff if I were away for an extended period.
Getting a flight would be no problem. Keeping my business operational at its current level without being present…less so. But what does it matter if I’m just going through the motions? If I’m not with the person I love most?
“Cate?” Hope’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. The concern in her tone is also visible in her expression. Dark eyebrows pinched together at the bridge of her nose. Lips no longer curved in a smile.
“I have to go. Not literally now. I mean to Los Angeles. Maybe other places too. I promise I won’t stay away for long, but I have to be with him before he gets on a tour bus again. Figure out how to get the most time together, this summer and beyond.”
“Finally!” she says, her big green eyes twinkling.
“What do you mean, ‘finally’? He only left yesterday morning.”
“You’ve had two weeks to sort this all out, and though I’m sure you were busy making up for lost time in other ways,” she wiggles her eyebrows, “I think you avoided talking about future plans because you were afraid of getting hurt again, despite both of you having finally confessed your undying love.” She raises her index finger when I open my mouth to speak.
“Also, ‘finally’ refers to you realizing you need to engage in important, open, honest communication in the moment it’s needed, unlike the last time he left town, and in the years since. ”
People walk past us on the boardwalk. Gulls squawk overhead. A gentle summer breeze carries children’s laughter from where they play in the water at the lake’s edge.
But from me…silence. Because she’s right.
Her expression contorts into an apologetic grimace. “Did I go too far with that last part?”
“No, my dear. And if you were wrong, I wouldn’t hesitate to let you know.”
Smiling, she shakes her head. As my former employee, she knows it to be true. “So, what’s the plan, and how can I help?”
I carefully lay the precious sleeping baby in his stroller, then do another thing I should’ve started doing a long ago—not wait for duress or sadness as a reason to wrap my arms around the young woman who gifted me with friendship, motherhood, and grandmotherhood.
“You’ve already helped so much. Your presence has changed my life. ”
“You said no hugging because it makes you cry.”
“Worth it.” I give her a tighter squeeze before releasing her and wiping the moisture from my cheeks. “Want to skip the boardwalk today and head over to Dorvak’s bakery for a treat instead?”
“God, yes. I’m starving all the time.”
“Of course you are. You’re still eating for two, and your plus-one has a lot of growing to do,” I say, commandeering the handle of the stroller wagon.
Must soak up every minute of Nana privileges while I can, because who knows how long it will be until the next time.
But as much as I’ll miss them both, I know in my heart that I’m making the right choice.
CATE
The moment Hope drives away, I slip around the rear of The Corner Bar and enter through the back door, then pull out my phone and text Grüsh.
I know you’re busy. Call me when you have a chance. I miss you.
My heart gives a gleeful thump when his name lights the screen. With the three-hour time difference and all the meetings on his agenda that he has to catch up on after spending more time in Harmony Glen than planned, I didn’t expect my phone to ring immediately. “That was fast.”
“Three words no man ever wants to hear from his mate.”
Laughing with him has always been so easy. Natural. “You never have to worry about that complaint from your mate. She’s very satisfied.”
A deep, throaty grumble slides into my ear. “Wish I could satisfy you right now.”
“That’s why I’m calling.” The wood stairs leading to the second floor creak under my feet.
“Much as I’d like to make that happen over this call, a bunch of intense execs are staring at me through a boardroom window, waiting for me to get my ass back in there. Video call later, when I’m at the condo?”
His LA condo. I’ve seen pictures, and it’s a stunning, high-end designer space, the complete opposite of my cozy old apartment above the bar.
Not my style, and not what I would’ve imagined a green troll with an innate connection and appreciation of nature wanting either.
But he’ll be there, and that’s all that matters.
“Yes please to the video call. And speaking of the condo,” I say, steering the conversation where I want it to go.
“Would I be in the way if I hopped on a plane in a couple days and joined you out there? I know you have things to do for the upcoming summer tour, but even if we can finish and start the day in bed together, that’s better than being apart.
And once the tour is underway, I don’t know if it’s doable, but I’d like to figure out how I can be with you.
I could fly out to your show destinations.
Or we could rent a vehicle that’s comfortable for you and travel together instead of you being on the tour bus. Make it our summer road trip.”
Silence ticks by. He’s still on the line, though. Even if I couldn’t hear him breathing, I feel him there.
“I don’t know the protocol for being a world-famous rock star’s girlfriend, so if I’m overstepping, just tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”
“Your feelings are all that matter to me, Cate. And you aren’t my girlfriend, you’re my mate. My heart.”
“And you’re mine.” I squeeze the phone as if it’s hand.
It’s silly to imagine he could feel it, but who knows what kind of long-distance power the mate bond has.
Now that I’ve accepted it, embraced it, it certainly has power over me.
“Those years without you, I proved I can be strong and independent and not need anyone for anything. But now…I need you. And I realize that doesn’t make me weak or dependent.
It makes me whole in a way I wasn’t before, because I’ve chosen to unlock what used to be an empty place inside me, and I’m complete when you fill it. I want to need you.”
“Cate,” he says, then, “fuck” as a male voice speaks to him from somewhere in the background.
The call becomes a muffled combination of their voices before his long, frustrated exhalation slides into my ear.
“I have to get back to the meeting. I’m sorry.
Cutting this conversation short is the last thing I want. ”
“I understand. Call me tonight?”
“The minute you text me that you’re done work,” he says.
“I will, as soon as the door is closed behind me. But right now, when this call ends, don’t say goodbye, okay? Maybe I’m going soft, but I don’t ever want us to say goodbye again.”
“You’re totally going soft,” he says, rumbling with amusement.
“Mean.”
“Only if you think being soft is an insult. And it isn’t. You’ve always been soft. You’re just getting more comfortable with it.”
A hum of acknowledgment is all I give him. Even if he is right.
Another rumbled chuckle tells me he knows it. Then he clears his throat, and I’m sure he’s going to sign off in whatever non-goodbye way his songwriter’s wordsmith brain has come up with.
“Are you sure about coming out here? Driving around the country with me all summer? Disrupting your life for months?”
“More than sure. Besides, it’s our life now, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Then being apart when there are ways for us to be together is the biggest disruption, I think.”
“I agree,” he says.
“So, I’ll book a flight to LAX.”
“Let me take care of everything. I’ll have my team arrange a first-class flight, a car service will pick you up, and I’ll be waiting for you.”
“First class and a car service? Fancy. Spoil me once and I might get used to it,” I tease.
“You better. See you on our video call tonight. Wear that thing I like.”
I rack my brain for any hints he might’ve dropped in the past two weeks, but come up empty. “What thing?”
“Nothing.” His deliciously deep voice slides into my ear like a caress, then the call ends.
The best non-goodbye ever.