She nods. “That’s why I swore I’d never love someone myself. Never need anybody as much as Gran needs Grandpa because watching her go through this …going through this with heris destroying me.”
I tighten my hold on her hand, voice firm. “Listen to me. I’m not some fling that fizzles out when things get tough. I don’t walk away. Not from you. Not from family. Not ever.”
She sobs quietly next to me as I slide my big fingers between her dainty ones.
“You don’t have to do this alone. I plan on being here every step of the way … if you want me.”
“Yes, more than anything,” she whispers, soft fingers caressing mine, our hands silently making love as Luke Bryan croons about forever.
I want Catalina to be my forever.The thought blindsides me, and yet I can’t deny its truth … or the way every part of me craves every part of her.
“But what if you leave me someday?” she whimpers.
“Life is an uncertain thing, but I can promise you this … I will never leave you of my own accord, and I’ll always find my way back to you. One way or another.”
“That’s not possible,” she exhales through tears.
“It is. And I imagine your grandfather has done the same. In fact, I believe he’s still here with you, in your heart and your memories … always. No one and nothing can steal him from you.”
She holds my hand like it’s a lifeline. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you.”
She hesitates as if processing my words before adding, “And thank you for playing along when Gran mistook you for Grandpa. That meant more to me than you can possibly know.”
“It was the right thing to do because you and Marguerite are family now. My girls, and I’ll always care for you both.”
“Oh, you’re going to completely wreck my makeup,” she laments, swiping at her wet cheeks.
To lighten the mood, I add, “And Dumpling.”
“Dumpling, too,” she giggles through the tears.
At the cabin, I set up Dumpling’s food and water bowls while Catalina drops her bag near the front door and removes her shoes. Out of the corner of my eye, I savor watching the pull of the library on the pretty woman.
Though she tries to fight the urge, I soon hear her feet padding down the dark hallway. I follow, turning on the lights and working on a fire in the hearth to ensure everything’s as cozy as possible.
“This place is perfection,” she whispers in reverent tones.
“Seems like it was built for you,” I observe.
Her cheeks glow, her expression radiating tenderness.
My throat tightens, and I want her so badly I can barely breathe. “Coffee? Hot cocoa? Tea?”
“After tonight? I could use something a little harder,” she confesses, surprising me as she unfastens the top couple of buttons of her flowery shirt. My eyes graze hungrily down the front of her blouse, wanting to master the remaining row of shiny pearls with my teeth.
“Wine?”
“Perfect.”
On my way back down the hallway, clutching an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and two glasses, Catalina lets out a high-pitched squeal.She found them.
She sits on the overstuffed leather loveseat near the hearth, surrounded by a pile of shiny, new books. Her eyes glimmer, and that same dumbass grin splits my face for the millionth time since meeting her.
“I can’t believe …” She shakes her head.
“Can’t believe what?” I ask, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
