Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Patience had never been Cat’s strong suit. She wasn’t the type to sit patiently waiting for answers or anything else, for that matter. She was better than she used to be, but at this point, she’d realized that impatience was part of who she was. It had its good points and bad.
It was good in her career, pushing her constantly to achieve, but bad when it came to relationships.
That’s why she was pushing open the door to Tate’s bar for a late lunch.
He hadn’t called yet, and she was tired of waiting around for him to do so.
She may not have been sure of what she wanted, but she knew she didn’t want this.
Sitting in limbo wasn’t her idea of fun.
She needed to know what he was thinking, even if he was only thinking that he wasn’t sure what he thought.
At least they could be confused together.
She didn’t see him right away when she arrived, taking a booth off to the side where it was quiet. The place wasn’t packed, but it wasn’t empty either. Customers were scattered around, some watching the televisions placed strategically around the large room.
A smiling young man brought her a menu and asked for her drink order in the meantime.
“Just a root beer. Um, is Tate here today?”
Was he hiding out, hoping to avoid her?
“He’s in his office. I can tell him you’re here to see him, if you like?”
Did she like? Yes, she did want to talk to him. Honestly, he should have expected this. He knew better than anyone that she wasn’t a patient person. He’d teased her about it many times.
“If you could, that would be wonderful, thank you. You can tell him it’s Cat.”
The server chuckled softly while scribbling down her drink order.
“Everyone knows who you are. I’ll get him now.”
So much for slipping in under the radar. How long would it take for the news to get around town that she’d come looking for Tate at the bar?
Tate didn’t appear surprised to see her. He sat across from her, wearing an inscrutable expression she didn’t recognize. He must have learned it in the last ten years, because he hadn’t been great at hiding his emotions when they were younger.
“I couldn’t wait any longer.”
There. She’d just said it. There was no point in playing cool. He wouldn’t have bought it for a minute anyway.
“I’m not sure I have any answers for you,” he said, rubbing his chin. “It’s been kind of a day, and it’s not even three o’clock yet.”
“What happened?”
The expressionless mask had slipped, and she could see the pain etched on his face and in his eyes. Whatever he’d gone through today had done a number on him. Their relationship, or whatever it was, seemed petty at this moment. She simply wanted to take away the hurt he was clearly feeling.
He quickly filled her in on what the private investigator had found, describing some of the contents they’d found in the storage unit. To say that he’d had an emotional gutpunch this morning would be an understatement.
“You’re going to try to find your Uncle Mark?”
Cat had vague memories of the man. They’d been quite young, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, and Uncle Mark had come in to visit. He’d been a large man, tall with wide shoulders and an even bigger smile. Devilishly handsome, he laughed easily and loudly, his gray-blue eyes lit with mischief.
She’d only met him the one time, but he’d stuck in her memory because he was so different than the stoic and stiff Joel Winslow.
They’d been on complete opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to personality, and she couldn’t claim to know for sure, but she thought that Joel didn’t seem to like Mark all that much.
But he hadn’t liked most people, so it wasn’t all that shocking or strange.
She’d never had the chance to confirm that theory, however, as she’d never met him again. As far as she knew, he hadn’t visited Winslow Heights in over twenty years.
“Yes, if I can. I spoke with the private investigator on the case, and he has offered to help. I’m going to take him up on it, but I told him not to reach out to Mark. I’ll do that.”
“You haven’t talked to him since your mom disappeared? Don’t you think that’s…a little weird?”
“I’m guessing that my dad made it difficult for him to contact us.”
One of the things she adored about Tate was that he always saw the good in a person. And today, he was still doing it.
“Tate,” she said gently. “You and your siblings haven’t lived with your dad in years. You were already out on your own when your mom disappeared. If your uncle reached out to you, your dad wouldn’t even have necessarily known.”
“He needed some time,” Tate replied with a shake of his head. “His sister disappeared into thin air. He was upset. He needed some space, I’m sure.”
“Away from all of you? Her children? For ten years? You were all upset, too. Tate, maybe Mark doesn’t want to be found. Have you thought about that?”
Tate rubbed at his temple as if a nasty headache had bloomed there. She was probably responsible for it, too.
“I have,” he finally answered. “I just don’t want to think about that.”
“You don’t want to believe it.”
“Okay, fine. I don’t want to believe it. Uncle Mark always seemed so…”
“Nice?” Cat prompted. “A good guy?”
“Yes, a nice guy. He was great with all of us. We loved it when he came to visit.” Tate slumped into the booth seat.
“But you’re right. There’s a reason he hasn’t contacted any of us.
Although I can’t imagine what that good reason is.
I guess I’ve been making excuses for him.
I didn’t want to think that he was like Dad. ”
“He can be different than your dad and still have reasons for not reaching out.”
“I still need to talk to him,” Tate said. “We have questions, and he might have some answers. I think Mom was working on something before she disappeared. I don’t think these items ended up in storage randomly. She did it to keep Dad’s hands off of them.”
Lily Winslow had been an intelligent woman. Cat wouldn’t have been shocked if Tate’s mother had been hiding things from her husband. Even watching from afar, she hadn’t understood the dynamic between Joel and Lily Winslow. It was a puzzle that few could work out.
Certainly not me.
“Zack’s going to find a forensic accountant?”
Steering the conversation away from Uncle Mark seemed like a good idea. Clearly, Tate had issues about his uncle’s behavior in the last decade.
“He has some connections. I don’t know if finding one is easy or hard. Are they in the Yellow Pages?”
“They might be if anyone still used the Yellow Pages,” Cat joked. “Then you can call them on your flip phone.”
“Don’t make fun of flip phones,” Tate laughed. “Life was a hell of a lot simpler back when I had mine.”
“It wasn’t simple because of what phone you had.”
Life was often simpler when a person was young because they hadn’t yet realized the consequences of their decisions and actions. Only later would they understand.
You reap what you sow.
Cat’s mother had said that statement many times, but it was now that she truly understood what her mom had been trying to say.
“I’m not mad about last night,” Tate said, changing the subject abruptly. “I don’t regret it either. But I have to ask you why you initiated it. Was it for nostalgia? Old times’ sake? You just couldn’t keep your hands off my perfect body? Enquiring minds want to know.”
“I was overcome with lust,” she replied, trying to repress a smile. “You are the pinnacle of manhood, and I simply could not fight my passion one second longer.”
It was good that they could still laugh together. It didn’t all have to be weird and awkward.
“That’s what I figured,” Tate said, a smug smile on his face. “You’d be shocked how often it happens to me. It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to be this hot.”
“A daily occurrence?”
“It’s constant,” he replied with a mock heavy sigh, as if he were truly put upon in life. “It was only a matter of time before you succumbed as well. I’m surprised you held out as long as you did. It’s a testament to your self-control.”
They both burst into laughter at that point, not able to keep a straight face.
“I kissed you because I wanted to,” she explained. “Because I couldn’t imagine not doing it. Because…”
The rest of the sentence scared the crap out of her. If she said it out loud, everything would change.
“Because?” he prompted.
“Because I still feel things for you. Or maybe that’s wrong. It’s not like before. It’s different. Maybe I feel something new for you. Does that sound dumb?”
She held her breath for his response. She’d stepped out on a limb here. Would he saw it off like a Wile E. Coyote and Roadrunner cartoon? Or would he reach out and lend a hand?
Tate steepled his fingers, looking down at them for a long time. Too long. He was about to tell her that he didn’t feel the same.
I’ll be fine. Life hurts sometimes. At least I took a shot.
“Something new,” he echoed. “That’s an interesting take. I don’t feel what I felt before, Cat. Whatever we had back then wasn’t what I’m feeling now.”
She wanted to ask what he was feeling, but a little voice in the back of her head told her to shut up and let him finish. Tate had a habit of doing his thinking out loud.
“I can’t deny that seeing you again has stirred up feelings in me,” he went on. “I wanted to be angry at you, Cat. I didn’t want seeing you to affect me in any way.”
“But it did affect you?”
“Yes. It did. As I said, I don’t regret our kiss last night. I’m glad it happened, but I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now. If we were still teenagers, we’d go to a movie and get pizza. Maybe go out to the lake and make out in the car until curfew. What do we do as adults?”
Joy rushed through her veins, suffusing her body with a heady warmth. She wasn’t out on that limb alone anymore. He was willing to go out there with her.
“I’d be willing to do all of that,” Cat replied. “Especially the part where we go make out at the lake.”
Sitting in the car, cuddled in Tate’s arms under a full moon? Sign her up.