Fate and Forever Page 5

  “You called the baby ‘he.’ ”

  Carter paused for a moment, seemingly considering Riley’s words. “Figure of speech, man.”

  Riley exhaled. “And how’s Kat? How does she feel about it?”

  “She wants kids. I know she does, but we said we’d talk about it before we made any decisions. We’ve been married five minutes!”

  Riley scoffed. “She didn’t do this on purpose, brother. Don’t be a prick.”

  Carter’s eyes flickered to Riley briefly, then away.

  Riley narrowed his in return. “Tell me you didn’t fuckin’ say that to her.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Carter replied.

  “But you thought it.”

  “Shit. Yes, I did, all right? And maybe I suggested . . . Hell, I said a lot of shit I didn’t mean. I . . . Jesus, what the fuck do I do?”

  Riley frowned in annoyance. Knowing Carter so well, he knew exactly how he would have reacted to Kat’s news. And as dearly as Riley loved him, he could be a hardheaded, self-centered son of a bitch. “Well, my first question would be, why the hell are you here and not with your wife?”

  “We fought,” Carter admitted, toeing the floor. “Don’t look at me like that; I was ambushed. I told her I wasn’t ready for kids.”

  Riley shook his head. “You’re an asshole.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “And she’s right.” Riley’s temper began to unfurl. “Do you know how selfish you sound right now? She’s probably been sitting on this, knowing how you’d react, and what do you do?” Carter opened his mouth to reply. “You say a bunch of insensitive shit and leave her alone again to deal with it.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Because it’s all about you, right?” Riley’s voice got louder. “Did you ever stop for one moment, while throwing your tantrum, to think about what she feels, what she wants? I love you, brother, but you’re wrong, treating her like that. She’s your wife, man. Your wife. All that ‘in sickness and in health’ stuff—this isn’t some first-date nonsense.”

  Riley took a breath and glanced toward his bedroom, his thoughts once again drifting to the box nestled at the back of his chest of drawers, remembering the girl he’d once wanted to make his wife. “You have no idea how lucky you are, Carter. No idea at all.” He placed his beer bottle onto the coffee table. “You ran out on her at the first sign of trouble—and why? Because you have some latent daddy issues? Well boo-fuckin’-hoo. Get your shit together. Kat sure as shit deserves better from you.”

  Carter gaped, bewildered. For a split second, he looked as though he might stubbornly argue, but the fight gradually disappeared from his eyes and shoulders, leaving him looking embarrassed and contrite.

  He was quiet for so long, Riley began to fidget. He wasn’t about to apologize, though. He wasn’t afraid of hurting Carter’s feelings. He knew what made him tick, knew that fighting fire with fire was the best way to go when Carter was on the edge. And if the asshole didn’t like it, he could go whine about his problems to someone else.

  Carter cleared his throat. “You’re right,” he murmured, rubbing his hands down his face.

  “Of course I’m right.”

  Carter glanced up. “I know she deserves better, I . . . I just have no idea what the hell I’m doing.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Grow up.”

  “No, seriously.”

  “I am being serious.”

  “Riley,” he pleaded. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

  Carter never asked for help. Never. He was forever hardheaded and determined, and to hear him so desperate struck a chord in Riley that made him sigh. “You go home,” he started. “And you be there for her, no matter what the fuck happens. Regardless of what you want, she needs you right now—and not your opinions.” Carter nodded. “You apologize and you grovel, and then you grovel some more. ’Cause if I know Miss L, she’ll tear you to fuckin’ pieces.”

  “Mrs. C,” Carter corrected him again with a wry smile.

  Riley waved him off. “Maybe to you. She’ll always be my Miss L.”

  Carter’s curious blue eyes stayed on Riley a fraction too long.

  Riley could see it coming a mile away and tensed. He picked up his beer bottle as though it would protect him.

  “You sound like you know something about all of this,” Carter said softly.

  Hell, it didn’t matter that his friend was right. It was ancient history, the only piece that was left hidden in a box in his underwear drawer. “This ain’t about me, man.” Carter dipped his chin, hearing the finality in Riley’s words. “Now go and be with your wife.”

  Carter rode his Harley, Kala, back to Tribeca like a maniac, needing to tell Kat how sorry he was for being such a prick. Trepidation lay in his stomach as heavy as a brick, but he’d deal with that later. Riley was right. He had to get his head out of his ass and be the man Kat deserved. He had to be there for the woman he loved, the woman he’d vowed to cherish and protect, no matter what.

  As he took the apartment stairs two at a time, he breathed deeply, knowing that Kat would react in one of two ways: either she’d go off like a firecracker, hot and fierce just the way he loved her, or she’d become the opposite, ice cold, ignoring him. Carter wasn’t sure which was worse, but knew he deserved both.

  “Kat,” he called out as he opened the apartment door, hurrying through the living room toward the bedroom. Which was empty. He threw the bathroom door open, but it was empty, too. “Peaches?” He motored back through the apartment to the kitchen.

  Everything was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that only an empty home can create. The hairs on Carter’s arm lifted. Where the hell was she?

  A small piece of paper next to the toaster caught his attention and he approached it with slow, heavy steps. The handwriting was hurried:

  I need a minute, too. I’ll see you in a few days. K.

  chapter six

  “What about this?”

  Grace barked a laugh that was high and cute, pulling Max’s mouth into a wide smile. He stood with his arms out at his sides, a pair of huge yellow clown glasses on his face, a set of plastic boobs on his chest, and a pink Mohawk headpiece over his hair.

  “If you’re going for the ‘I just broke out of a lunatic asylum’ look, I’d go right ahead,” Grace managed through her giggles, checking out a maid’s outfit that Max knew would look fucking incredible on her.

  “Zombie?” He pulled the glasses off and put the boobs back on the shelf.

  “Maybe. How about sexy vampire?” Grace held up a packaged outfit that appeared to consist of an Elvis quiff, white face paint, and a knockoff gray pea coat.

  “What the hell has that got to do with vampires?” he asked, puzzled.

  Grace snorted and put the outfit back on the shelf. “Clearly not.”

  “I was thinking more ‘rocker Kiefer Sutherland in Lost Boys’ type of vampire,” Max mused.

  “That could work.”

  They’d been wandering the aisles of what felt like every costume shop in New York for most of the day, and they were still no closer to choosing an outfit for the Halloween party being held at a club owned by a friend of Riley.

  The bell above the door rang, signaling a new customer. “What’s up, bitches?” Riley meandered over to Grace, followed by his brother Tate. Riley kissed Grace’s cheek.

  “Watch it,” Max uttered with a smile. He gestured to the can of Red Bull in Riley’s hand. “Jesus, aren’t you wired enough?”

  Riley laughed. “You have your vices, I have mine. And this is only my first of the day. I’m barely functional.”

  Max nodded at Tate, then looked through the glass door. “Carter not comin’?”

  Riley shook his head, the light in his eyes dimming. “He said he’s got work to do.
”

  “He heard from Kat yet?” Max pushed his hands into his jeans pockets.

  “Yeah. She’s still in Chicago.” Riley sighed. “She hasn’t told him when she’s coming back.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Max retorted. His best friend was a fucking idiot, and deserved to suffer for a few days after behaving so appallingly.

  “Word,” Riley mumbled, his gaze fixed on a dominatrix outfit consisting of red knee-high boots with evil heels and a black rubber garment organized in concentric and zigzaggy patterns that would pretty much cover nothing. “Hey, Grace,” Riley started over his shoulder, huffing when Max smacked him in the stomach.

  “Bastard,” Max laughed with a shake of his head. “You got your costume?” he asked Tate, who was fingering a row of wigs with a bemused expression.

  “Of course,” he said, but didn’t describe it. His T-shirt was black and ordered in a large white font, “Do not read the next sentence,” under which, in a smaller font, it read, “You little rebel. I like you.”

  Riley said, “Don’t bother asking him what it is.” He waved a disgruntled hand toward Tate. “No doubt it’ll be something shitty and Marvel.”

  “Yeah, you pronounced ‘awesome’ wrong,” Tate responded calmly.

  “Whatever,” Riley said, puffing out his chest and pushing past Max toward the back of the shop. “I’m getting my Halloween on. Show me to the spandex!”

  That afternoon, while Nana Boo was at her weekly seniors’ yoga class, Kat bundled up warmly and took her grandmother’s dog, Reggie, for a long walk around the estate. The weather mirrored Kat’s mood: sharp and gray. It had been five days since she’d left New York, after watching Carter walk out of their apartment, cracking her heart in two, and leaving her little choice but to leave and think long and hard about how to deal with what had been said. Their last words continued to weigh heavily. There’d been texts between them, of course, but she’d refused his calls, feeling too confused about what to say.

  Back at the house, with a hot chocolate in hand, she curled up on a green leather wingback chair in her grandmother’s reading room, thumbing through a copy of A Farewell to Arms. She remembered the conversations she and Carter had had about the book when he had just been released from Kill prison on parole. That seemed such a long time ago. Her heart ached as she turned the pages, missing her husband terribly, but still hurting too deeply to go home. At her feet, Reggie lifted his head from his paws and cocked it as though listening to something. Kat looked up just as Nana Boo pushed the door open.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” she said with a smile. Reggie’s nails scratched across the wood floor as he approached his mistress, wagging his tail, then leaving in search of something more interesting.

  “Hey. How was yoga?”

  “Good. How’re you?”

  Kat tried to smile to ease her grandmother’s concerns, but it fell quickly.

  “Have you heard from Carter?”

  “He texted this morning.”

  Nana Boo nodded and pressed her lips together. “Have you thought about what you might want for dinner?”

  Kat shrugged. Her appetite hadn’t been all that great. “Whatever you like.”

  “Why don’t you come help me choose.”

  Kat set her book down, and as she approached her grandmother, Nana enveloped her in a huge hug. “Come on, darling.”

  Kat followed her through the long hallway, which opened up at the bottom of a huge, polished wood stairway leading to the second floor, and turned toward the back of the house.

  Nana Boo stopped in the kitchen doorway. “Dammit, I left my bag in the living room. Would you be a love and grab it for me?”

  “Sure,” Kat replied, pulling her sweater sleeves down over her hands, her gaze on the floor as her socked feet slipped across it. When she was a kid, she’d loved sliding up and down the hallways in her socks.

  She smiled at the memory as she approached the living room’s arched doorway, then gasped in surprise when she saw Carter sitting on the edge of the sofa. He tried to form a smile, but it wasn’t much of one.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. Her grandmother had some explaining to do.

  Carter stood slowly. He looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept since she’d left, and unshaven. It did little to ease the hurt in her heart, or the butterflies that started going crazy in her stomach as she stared at him. He always had that effect on her, whether she was angry with him or not. It was frustrating, to say the least.

  Carter took a deep breath. “I needed to speak to you.” His eyes traveled down her body. “God, it’s good to see you.”

  Kat fidgeted. It was good to see him, too; the sight of him eased the cold ache that had resided in her chest since she’d left New York. But his unexpected arrival left her off kilter. “You could have texted.”

  “I know. But what I have to say needed to be done in person.” Kat’s stomach roiled. Carter looked toward the ceiling, as though gathering himself. “If you want me to leave after that, I will.”

  Kat took him in, wishing to God she could throw herself into his arms, bury her nose in her favorite place in the hollow under his ear, and pretend the last week hadn’t happened. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay.”

  She wandered toward a chair and sat slowly, and Carter retook his seat on the couch. The silence stretched, but Kat allowed it. She wanted to hear her husband out, whether what he had to say was good or bad.

  She knew he would have spent days mulling over what he needed to say, working himself up and then talking himself out of it, arguing with himself about what to do. His stubborn streak, as frustrating as it could be, was one of the many things she adored about him. It made him who he was: loyal to a fault and infuriating in the extreme.

  Carter finally sat back and looked over at Kat. “How are you?” he asked softly.

  She huffed a humorless laugh. “I’ve been better.”

  He dipped his chin as though realizing how stupid his question was. “Yeah.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Kat, I . . . I’m sorry,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly before they swept back over to her, the blue of them bright and honest. “Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  Kat’s throat tightened. She nodded sharply, with no words to offer back.

  “You’re right; I’m a fucking asshole,” he admitted, rubbing a hand across his hair. “But that’s no excuse for what I said, or how I behaved.”

  “No,” Kat managed. “It’s not.”

  He frowned as though her words hurt. “I was selfish and cruel and . . . I should have been there for you instead of . . . I’ll never forgive myself for not doing the right thing, for not supporting you and doing what I vowed to do.”

  Kat wiped quickly at a tear that escaped when she blinked.

  “Baby,” Carter whispered, sitting forward. “Please don’t cry.”

  He looked like he wanted to go to her, and she was relieved that he stayed where he was. She wanted to forgive him and, if she was honest with herself, she knew she had already. But the problem still remained: how could they ever move forward, have a family, if he was so opposed to the idea?

  “I know I have shit I need to deal with, and get over,” he continued, his expression firm. “And I will. I swear. I want to—no, I promise I will be there for you.” His gaze went to her belly. “No matter what.”

  Those words made her tears come faster, harder. Kat cupped a hand to her mouth and Carter quickly stood, coming to kneel at her feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said urgently. “I know I should have said all of this to you five days ago. I’m an imbecile. I— Christ, I miss you so much.” His eyes turned glassy with tears. “I love you, Kat. You’re my everything. My Peaches, and I love you more than I could ever tell you. I want us to be— No, I . . . shit.” He stopped, frustrated. “I want you to come home. For us to be together.
” He took her hand, kissing her fingers. “The three of us.”

  Kat’s heart squeezed while her gaze roamed over Carter’s face, searching for any hint of fear or of anger, but found none. “You mean that?”

  “With everything I am,” he uttered, holding her palm to his cheek. “Your leaving killed me—but it was the kick in the ass I needed. I don’t ever want to be without you again. But if you need more time, want me to leave, I’ll understand.”

  Kat nibbled her lip, having no clue if that was what she wanted. It would be so easy to lose herself in his promises, his words, but she had to know for sure. Had to know where they stood. “And . . . what about”—her eyes dropped to her stomach—“how do you feel about this?”

  Carter swallowed, following her gaze, and took a deep breath. “When you first told me, all I could think about was all the mistakes I’d make. The shit role model I’d be.”

  Kat knew his anxieties about his father very well. After no word from him in years, James Carter had sent a congratulations card for their wedding. Three seconds later it was in the trash, followed by a barrage of colorful curses.

  Carter looked up at her seriously. “I was . . . I was really afraid. But once I thought about it, I realized that this kid would be half of you, too, and how amazing that is.” He kissed her palm. “I don’t know whether I’ll be a good dad, but I’ll try my damnedest. I let you down once. I won’t do it again.”

  Kat placed her other hand on Carter’s face and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered.

  “You hurt me badly,” she replied.

  “I know.” His mouth was a soft caress against hers. “And I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  Carter looked surprised, pulling back. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have—”

  “I’m not pregnant.” Kat exhaled, her breath stuttering, fighting against tears.

  Carter blinked, opening and closing his mouth. “What?”

  “My period came two days ago.” She tried to smile, but it was too hard. “I guess fate has other plans for us.”