Chapter Nine

Booker

“What’s this?” I ask Catherine as she and a small dark-haired boy, wearing jeans and a Pokemon shirt, walk up the drive.

“I had to bring him. Is that ok?” she asks, leery, holding onto a little red backpack with a stuffed poop emoji hanging off of it. She’s very pretty today, as fucking usual, with her long brown hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. The jeans and plain pink tshirt she's wearing only make her more appealing.

Is this her kid? Austin never mentioned a kid. “He yours?” I ask, quietly.

“Yes.”

My head spins.

“No school today?”

She shrugs. “I swear they have more days off than they actually go.”

“I'm Cooper,” the small boy introduces himself. He smiles a toothless grin at me. “I won’t be any trouble.”

I smirk. “Come on inside.”

They follow me to the kitchen. Cat sets the backpack on the table. “Thanks for understanding.”

“This house has good bones,” Cooper states, his eyes searching every nook and cranny.

I grin at his choice of words. “That it does.” And skeletons in every closet. “Unfortunately, a few are broken,” I mumble, checking the thermostat.

Cat steps closer, peering over my shoulder. “Is the heat working? It's supposed to be chilly tonight.”

“Yeah, I'll call a guy.”

My answer to all things broken in this house.

“My mom and I were looking for rocks earlier,” Cooper states, his copper-colored eyes sparkling with pride.

“Ah, makes sense. Do you like rocks like your mom?” I smile, focusing all my attention on him.

“Yes. Did you know some rocks are made of gold and silver?” He steps closer, his face lighting up as he speaks. “They’re called ores.”

I shake my head. “Had no clue. But, I’ll be on the lookout for those.”

And just like any kid, he changes the direction of the conversation on a dime.

Cooper smiles wide. “It’s my birthday.”

“Soon. It’s your birthday soon,” Cat corrects.

I give him my full attention. “That’s cool, little man. How old will you be?”

“Seven.”

“I’m having a party. Do you want to come to it? Please say yes.” His face is a hopeful ray of sunshine, mixed with worry of my answer.

Cat wears a look of ‘Why did you just ask that, and how am I going to get out of this?’ She shakes her head. “Cooper, Booker is a very busy man. He won’t have time for a party.” She ruffles her hand through his hair.

His freckled nose scrunches as his disappointed eyes show acceptance of his mom’s answer.

I cross my arms. “I don’t mind. I’m sure I can free up my time. I wouldn’t want to miss a party.” I smile, my eyes meeting Cat’s. “Especially if you’ll be there.”

A flush swells across her cheeks. “I’ll get you the details.”

I wink to Cooper. “Great, it’s all set.”

“Can you run out and see if my gloves are under the hemlock tree?” she says to Cooper. When he's sprinting across the yard, she closes the distance between us. “Never make a promise to a kid you don’t intend on keeping.”

“I'm not that big of an ass.” I reach out my hand, holding on to her elbow. “I’ll be there.”

She gives a quick nod in acceptance of my answer as he races inside.

“Here you go.” He hands her a powder blue set of gloves, then walks over to me. “Booker, both our names have double o’s. We’re special like that.”

“Cooper, why don’t you leave Booker alone so he can work?”

“I’ll be in my office.” I jab a thumb over my shoulder in the direction down the hall.

“Ok, I’m going to set him up with some books, and I’ll be in the yard,” Cat informs me.

I head down the hall to my makeshift office, close the door, and fire up my computer to write an article about the effect of the human eyes. The gateway to the soul.

I read a silly fact once that if someone stares into your eyes for more than twelve seconds they want to have sex with you. Stupid, I’m sure. I’ve stared into Cat’s eyes a lot longer than that.

Her eyes are hard to turn away from.

An hour later a timid knock on the door puts a stop to my obsessive thoughts about Cat.

“Come in.”

The door creaks open and Cooper steps inside. Curious eyes gaze at me.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, little guy. Come on in.”

He grabs a chair and moves it closer to my desk. On his knees, he leans on his elbows as he holds his tiny face in his hands. “Do you play chess?”

I lean back in my chair. “I do.”

“I love chess. I always beat my grandpa.”

I crack a wide grin. “Is that so?”

“It is. We should play one day.”

“Ok, deal. Are you excited about your party?”

He lowers himself from his perched position and sits in the chair, eyes concentrating on the floor. “Yeah,” he whispers.

“You don’t sound too excited.”

He kicks his jean clad legs back and forth and his eyes meet mine. “Some of the kids at school don’t want to come. They call me weirdo.”

“Weirdo?” Kids are fucking cruel. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Cause I play with rocks. Maybe because I don’t like the same things they like. They all want to play football.”

I rub a hand through the scruff on my face. “So that makes you weird?” Shaking my head, I blow out a breath. “Being different isn’t weird.”

“I say that all the time.”

I smile. “Do you now? What else do you say?”

“I say you think my mom is pretty.”

It’s as if this kid can read my mind. “Yeah? I don’t remember saying that.”

“Well you should be honest,” he says, getting closer, his eyes searching out the truth in mine.

“Well, ok, maybe she is.” It’s as if this kid is an investigator on a mission to discern between truth and lies.

I try to bring the conversation back to safer waters. “So, what games will you have at your party?”

He ignores me. “Is it true you threw her rock in the ocean?”

I cringe. I'm never going to live this rock down. “Well, technically it wasn’t her rock.”

He runs a finger over his lips, processing my words. “Why did you throw it?”

“I’m not really sure,” I say, on the hot seat. I was having a really bad fucking day doesn't seem appropriate to say to a six-year-old in a Pokemon shirt.

“My grandpa says when you’re mean to a girl that means you like her.”

I yank at the collar of my tee.

Cooper rises and peers at my computer screen. “What are you working on?”

“Just writing an article for my website.”

“Heartbreaker? Why do you call yourself that?” Cooper asks.

I smile. “It’s just the name of my website.”

“Do you break hearts?” His little mind is spinning, I’m sure. His innocence unable to handle what it is I really do.

Our eyes meet as I answer Cooper’s question. “No.”

“Mom’s friend Tristan says mom hasn’t had S-E-X in a long time,” he informs me, spelling out the word.

I laugh, crossing my arms. “Is that so?” I ask, completely interested in this kid’s knowledge on the subject.

“Oh my God, Cooper,” Cat exclaims, face as red as fire, appearing in the doorway. “No it isn’t,” Cat denies. “Ok, Cooper, this conversation is over. It’s time for us to go home. Let’s let Booker get back to working.”

He hops down from his seat and moves toward the door. “Bye, Booker.”

“Bye, little man.”

Cat avoids my stare and closes the door.

After they leave for the evening, I set off to run through the Redwoods. Seeing Catherine with her son, seeing the way she cared for him, brought back memories of her. Her nurturing ways. Her taking me for long walks on this very same street, holding my little hand in hers.

As my feet hit the dirt trail, I try to stifle the guilt of being here.

I push myself, running faster than I ever have before. Deeper into the woods. Deeper into my thoughts.

My past and present intersect, meeting each other for the first time in this sleepy forest. The sun shines, but nothing can be seen through the canopy of tall trees—so majestic, so massive compared to my small life.

I feel like the needle in the haystack, fighting my way through.

I have to get out of this town, away from the niceness, back to LA where it's easier to hide. And then it hits me, like a million tiny pins straight in my chest, squeezing my vital organ in two. Years of therapy, didn't erase the fear. The fear is still there, burning deep.

I stop in my tracks, leaning over to catch my breath, and stare at the beauty around me. Trees so strong, so virile, they take my breath away.

Night approaches, bringing with it a chill in the air. I resume my run, faster and harder.

I round the corner and see the house come into view. Sweat clings to me as I pant down the hallway into the one working bathroom and into the shower.

After I'm clean, I try to adjust the thermostat.

Fuck.

A night with no heat.

Even the fireplace isn’t in working condition.

Before I can plan out my next move, there’s a knock on the front door. I flip the porch light on. Cat.

“Miss me?” I ask, leaning against the door frame.

“No, but you said you had no heat. The temperature is supposed to dip into the near freezing arena tonight.”

I open the door, inviting her inside.

“I was just on my way to my friend Tristan’s house.” She holds out a grey beanie and gloves. “I wasn’t sure if you had supplies, and my dad left these in my truck.”

“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” I say.

“I know.”

“Are those mittens?” I ask.

She hands them over. “No. Believe me, you’ll be loving these tonight when you’re cold.”

“I can think of a few ways to heat up.” I lean in closer, testing the waters.

“Oh yeah, and what way is that?”

I run the pad of my finger along my lower lip, wondering if I should take this a step further. “S-E-X,” I say, spelling out the word.

“Well, I’ve never been propositioned like that before.” She smiles, throwing my words from the first time we met back at me.

“Why are you always being so nice to me?”

She doesn’t answer, doesn’t even move, but keeps her eyes leveled on mine.

Does she feel it too? This weird fucking pull between us.

She opens her mouth to speak, and then it falls shut. I should kiss her. All signs are pointing to her luscious lips.

What would a kiss from her be like?

Should I even try?

My heart races as a haze settles over us. A dense fog, like mornings over the Redwoods.

I shouldn’t even be thinking about her mouth.

But, I’m weak.

I’m human.

I can’t catch my breath quick enough. I close my eyes and see her lips. Pink. Sweet. Full. And fucking amazing.

I turn the lust to anger.

The passion to rage.

This is her fault.

Fuck it.

I reach out and tug her by the wrist. I push her against the wall, pressing my hard body against hers.

“What are you doing to me?” I ask, inches away from that soft mouth of hers.

Her breasts push against my chest. “I...I’m...”

She’s at war with her emotions, as am I.

My heart beats so damn fast. With my other hand I trace her cheek, outlining her lush, bottom lip.

All I need is one kiss. One taste of her lips and I can pull away.

I don’t want to hurt her. But I will.

I’m no good for her. And she’s definitely no good for me.

“You should go,” I whisper to her.

Fuck. What is wrong with me?

“I didn’t mean to…,” her voice trails off.

One kiss. Then I’ll set her free.

I slant my lips over hers, taking exactly what I want. Not letting this one kiss get away from me, I nibble on the corners of her lips, and with a moan, she opens her mouth for me.

Our tongues meet, dancing together, sultry and provocative, a slow dance we never want to end. I deepen it, pulling her closer, but knowing better than to ask for what I can never have. Her hand dips under my shirt to glide over my skin. My cock grows, as it always does with one touch from her.

It would be so easy to take her right now. Hoist her up and claim her in one agonizingly slow thrust.

I break the kiss and turn away from her.

“You need to leave.”

Without a word, she does.