Page 8 of Whiskey and Whispers
“Quiet,” Cat replied after a long moment. “Very quiet. But in a good way. It’s nice.”
“Winslow Heights is no New York City,” Glen joked. “Or London, Paris, or Milan. Is quiet another way to say boring?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Cat explained. “Although I have nothing against boring. After the last year and a half with mom being in and out of the hospital and all the treatments, it’s nice that we’ve hopefully put all of that behind us.”
All Cat needed was people saying that she’d called Winslow Heightsboring.
“I’m glad your mom is doing better,” Winnie said. “Did you know that before she left for New York City, Tate would send meals over to her every day, so she didn’t have to cook or worry about groceries? He’d even go visit a few times a week.”
“Mom mentioned that. It was very kind of him.”
That’s how Tate was…kind and thoughtful. She hadn’t realized how much until she’d been out in the world, where people weren’t always nice or friendly.
“If you wanted to say thank you, he’s standing out on the patio getting some air,” Winnie replied, giving Cat a little nudge with her elbow. “You should talk to him.”
She wasn’t ready. She might have rehearsed what she would say, but all the words had flown out of the window the minute she’d laid eyes on him. She was literally shaking in her expensive Italian pumps just standing there looking at him.
How could he affect her like this after so many years? It wasn’t fair.
Tate was standing on the back patio talking to Tyler, both men smiling and chuckling. Cat distinctly remembered Tate’s warm laughter and the deep emotion in his green-gold eyes. He’d looked at her with such love and care. She’d been in other relationships over the years, but she’d never seen anyone look at her the way he had all those years ago.
She’d felt his love like a physical thing wrapped around her, keeping her safe from the outside world. When she’d left town, she’d missed that feeling keenly. She’d been out there on her own. No safety net. And the world was a cold, cruel place sometimes.
“Maybe later,” Cat replied, shaking her head. “He’s talking to Tyler right now.”
Except that Tyler had reentered the house, leaving Tate on a lounge chair outside. She didn’t have an excuse anymore.
“He’s alone now. You should go talk to him,” Winnie urged again. “How long has it been since you talked to him? Has to have been a few years, right?”
More than that.
Winnie and Glen’s expressions appeared puzzled as to why she wasn’t rushing outside to chat with Tate. Catch up and all that.
She wasn’t about to explain it, either.
“I guess I should say hello.”
She could barely feel her legs as she walked outside to the patio where Tate was relaxing. His gaze was on the night sky, sprinkled with stars and the bright moon. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she approached him, thinking of all the reasons she should turn and sprint back inside the house, find the bathroom, and lock herself in.
She could blame the chilly weather. Spring was around the corner, but it hadn’t yet arrived.
That was a lousy plan, however, and she forced herself to paste on a fake smile as his head turned at the sound of her high heels on the concrete.
“Tate.”
“Cat.”
She’d known this man so well. All of his moods and thoughts. Right now, he wasn’t giving anything away, deliberately keeping his expression bland and uninterested. Clearly, he wasn’t surprised to see her. The others must have filled him in that she’d be attending the party. If their friends hadn’t, the gossip mill would have done the job, too.
“Getting some fresh air?”
What a stupid question. She must sound like a rocket scientist.
“It’s a nice night.”
Okay, he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Perhaps he was still holding a grudge. She didn’t blame him, but she hoped she could at least apologize. He deserved one.
“Spring is my favorite season,” she said. “But I know that autumn is yours. Or it was.”
