CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The airplane’s wheels bumped and screeched on the runway of Spokane International Airport, jarring Gracie awake. The tension of meeting potential players, enjoyment of writing workshops and late night drinks with other authors, and the emotional pain of ignoring Webb’s calls and texts had taken its toll.
She hadn’t ignored all his texts though.
Sitting at the gate in LaGuardia airport waiting for her flight to Baltimore, a chime dinged on her phone and she glanced at the text. The pain in his words reached out to her.
“Tell me one thing and be honest. Did I mean anything to you? Was it all a fucking game? Some kind of ego trip?”
She had to smile at the role reversal. Usually it was the woman who asked those kinds of questions. Her first instinct was to tease him, but then she remembered how his face looked the last time she saw him. How her heart crumbled, as those final words tumbled from her lips.
So without using a filter, she allowed her heart to respond.
“It was freaking scary how much you came to mean to me in such a short time. Why do you think I ran? This is real life, not a fairytale romance.”
“Where are you? I’ll skip my next counseling session and come to you.”
“At the boarding gate for my flight to Baltimore.”
“Text me when you get there. I need to know you’re safe.”
Even within the words of a text, his intensity gripped her. When she’d checked Webb out online after meeting him, most reports described him as a man out for a good time. Did he always go so bonkers over every woman he met?
“Don’t forget. We can only be friends. I won’t text you every day. I’ll text you when I get home to Idaho.”
“If friendship is all you’re offering, I’ll take it. Just know I’m coming after you for more. Not now, but sometime in the future.”
Maybe now that he knew she was leaving New York, his ardor would cool and he’d aim his focus on someone else. Just how did she feel about his going after other women? It was bound to happen, sooner or later. Or so she told herself over and over on the short flight to Baltimore.
Now she was in Spokane, less than fifty miles from her little house—and a lifetime away from Webb. She sighed as she stood to retrieve her overhead baggage. Some things just weren’t meant to be.
She waited at the luggage carousel for her big suitcase and smiled at the memory of the grungy purse snatcher who’d started it all. Then her knight in shining muscles charged in to the rescue and her trip took a completely different turn. Her pink suitcase came into view and she grabbed it, eager to finish the final part of her trip home.
Once she pulled her little SUV into the garage, she glanced at the kitchen door and laughed. As usual, one orange paw and a gray and white one peeked out under the entryway. Her two cats howled a welcome. They’d missed her. She’d brought Diana, her next door neighbor and closest friend, a special gift from NYC to thank her for taking care of them while she was gone.
As she heaved her luggage from the back, she teased her fur babies. “Itty-Bitty and Cisco, where are you? Did you miss me?”
More meowing. A little more on the indignant side this time.
She unlocked the door, crouching for them to crawl onto her lap for nuzzles and pettings. “Yes, my babies, Momma’s home.” She stood with one in each arm. “This isn’t such a bad life we have, is it? You two and me living in our own space. No one tells us how to dress or which side of the bowl to drink our milk from. Who needs a man, when we’ve got each other? Right, Itty-Bitty and Cisco?”
She was partly unpacked when she decided it was time to let Webb know she was home. “I’m in my house, unpacking. My 2 cats are in my suitcase, making a nest. How’s life going for you?”
After she hit send, she glanced at the time. She was three hours behind him. He might be asleep. Oh well, he could read the text in the morning.
Her cell chimed and she jumped, nearly dropping the phone. “I’m glad you’re safe. So you’re a cat person. Send me a picture of them.”
She snapped a shot and sent it.
“Hey, they’re cute. What are their names? Rip and Tear?”
Gracie laughed. He had a way of tickling her sense of humor. “No. The orange female is Itty-Bitty and the gray male with a white mask and paws is Cisco.”
“Well don’t look now, but I think the bitty one’s been eating Cisco’s food. Hell, if Itty-Bitty ever wants to haul ass, she’d have to make two trips. What are you feeding her? You need to buy her a pair of running shoes.”
He had her giggling. Or maybe she was just tired. She flopped across the bed to text a reply. “Stop it! What are you doing?”
“In bed. Reading.”
“What?”
“My Dom for the Weekend.”
Oh, dear Lord, that was one of her books. Did he know? Of course he knew. Why else would he be reading it? “How did you find out my writing name?”
“I took your agent to breakfast. She just happened to mention it.”
“That comes under stalker behavior. Talk to your counselor about that. See if he doesn’t agree.” She powered off her phone for the night and headed for the shower. Webb Mohanty was like a bad rash. The more you scratched him, the worse he got.
She’d be better breaking off all ties with him. This idea of their being friends wasn’t going to work, because he’d inch his way back into her life. Why, she didn’t know. They lived so far apart. The distance between them was twenty-eight-hundred and three miles—not that she’d checked.
The next few days were spent in her office, going over scouting reports with her defense coach Matt Abrams and Noel Pergossi, offensive coach. There was a new approach to conditioning and diet that both Matt and Noel were gung-ho about. It made sense. “I’ll put you two in charge of it. That’ll free me for some of the record keeping changes NCAA enacted for this coming season. What a pain, guys.”
They smiled and nodded. Both obviously happy she was giving them free reign with their idea. She even offered to go on the diet, too, as an example for the team. It was time she stopped trying to micro-manage everything. The stress of keeping her nose in every part of the team’s functions took its toll, and by season’s end she was usually ill. A simple case of being rundown. She decided to dole out some of the responsibilities this year.
When she pulled in the driveway after work, a FedEx box was at her front door. Once her Murano was in the garage, she walked around to get it. The return address was NYC and it was addressed to Itty-Bitty and Cisco Luera. Webb. She didn’t even want to know how he found out her address.
She went inside and babied her cats for a little while. If anyone could relax her after a day of work, it was these two. Once they had her black t-shirt and jean shorts covered in cat hair, they began sniffing the box she’d brought in. Sniffing turned to scratching.
“What is it? A year’s supply of catnip?” She carried it out to the kitchen to open it. Both cats ran after her, meowing as if she’d stolen their last Big Mac. Using a knife, she cut open the tape. They jumped up onto the counter, their noses in the box. Each pawed at the tissue paper before finding two tiny teddy bears, obviously stuffed with catnip, and jumped down, growling and hissing over their new found toys.
Beneath the white thin paper was a package of pink feline sneakers with a note attached. “Have Itty-Biggie run for ten minutes a day.” Webb, you are a demented piece of work. Next she found a small furry baseball bat. Its note read: “Cisco, use this to keep the food thief’s nose out of your bowl.”
In the corner was an oblong box tied to a white envelope with a red ribbon. Her name was written on the envelope. She held it for a few minutes not knowing if she wanted to read what he’d written. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a soda. Her stomach rolled and she replaced it before reaching for an apple she kept in a bowl on the counter.
Curling up on her wide chair in the living room, she untied the ribbon and snapped open the jeweler’s box. Inside was a gold charm bracelet. Attached to the chain was a “W”, a filigree heart, a “G”, a man in a doghouse, a cellphone, and two cat charms. This man could be so thoughtful and so maddening.
She set the box on the stand next to the chair. Biting into the apple was like a moisture bomb exploding in her mouth. She wiped juice from her chin with the heel of her hand. A measure of courage in place, she reached for the envelope at the bottom of the box. With the apple clamped between her teeth, she wiped her hands on her shorts and opened the letter.
“Dear Gracie,
Dr. Paul is trying to get through my thick skull why I behaved so badly at the club the other week. He says I’m crowding you. So I’ll stop and back away.”
She glanced at the bracelet and the happy cats on a catnip buzz loving their tiny teddy bears. Yeah, she could see how he was backing away.
“The truth is I’ve never met anyone who I connected with the way I did you. I understand what you mean about it being too soon for such strong emotions. But, sweetheart, I can’t turn mine off.
“Here’s what I’m willing to do. I’ll agree to one call a week and a few texts a day. We’re both entering into the busy time of our schedules. I need to keep in touch, but I promise not to smother you. I know I have a lot of making up to do. When a man is hurt, he often lashes out by saying things he doesn’t mean. I did that with you and I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.
In my defense, I felt we’d progressed beyond being a one-night stand. I felt we were building something together. This puts me between a rock and a hard place. I want to gain your forgiveness by apologizing, but I have to be true to myself. You’re special to me. I can’t give you up easily. Although I promise to move slowly, so you have the comfort and luxury of time. Just know I’m coming for you and you will be mine.
“I need one of your fantastic kisses so damn bad. — Webb
Gracie walked to the kitchen to lob the apple core into the trash can. She washed her hands while tears poured from her eyes. Damn him for reaching into her heart and wringing out emotion after emotion.
Now she knew how a rabbit felt, caught in a hunter’s crosshairs. She didn’t know whether to sit still and wait for the inevitable or run like hell. Of course she missed him. That didn’t mean she loved him. He was another bad boy who’d snagged her attention setting her up for a world of hurt.
She blew her nose with paper towels, opened her refrigerator and pulled out the bag of miniature chocolate bars she kept for emergencies.
ʼCause damn if this wasn’t one.