Prologue
Tornado
Trying to forget her is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. -Tornado
I’ll never forget the day I realized that Catherine Scott was officially a woman. Not the girl that made mud cakes with me down by the river or the playmate that threw the baseball around with me in secret in the backyard. No longer the quiet rebel that took joy in getting dirt on those frilly dresses her Mama always dressed her in. She wasn’t the same girl I had teased and taunted. She wasn’t just my best friend anymore.
The funny thing is that all she was doing at the time of this epiphany was sitting on a stool sketching. I was fixing up the ancient motorcycle had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday. She was just sitting there, quietly using a piece of charcoal to draw my side profile. I got used to Cat drawing me years ago. She always had a sketchpad in her hands. That day was like so many others, yet it wasn’t…
I wipe at the sweat on my neck and ask for her to hand me the wrench next to her. She barely looks up from her pad long enough to grab me a tool and then absent-mindedly thrusts it into my hands.
“This is a screwdriver, Cat,” I say in a slightly frustrated voice.
“Really?” she asks and wrinkles her nose. She finally looks up at me and I laugh.
“What?” She glances around her. “I know I got it wrong, but that’s no reason to laugh at me.”
“You have a smudge of charcoal on your nose,” I say and reach out to wipe away the spot.
Her wide blue eyes blink up at me and I suddenly feel this tightening around my heart. Instead of taking my hand away, I slowly drag a finger along her soft cheek.Has her skin always been this soft?
“Tor?” she questions softly.
For a moment, I’m under her spell. She’s so damn beautiful. Her blonde hair is curly today, unable to be tamed even by her formidable mother. Her blue eyes turn a darker shade as I take my time studying her. She looks like a fairy princess, round cheeks, and a slightly upturned nose. My gaze travels down. She’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but there’s no hiding the curves she’s gained over the last few years. I’ve heard her mother berate her about her weight over and over again. It always makes my stomach twist, and it takes everything within me not to slap the great Mrs. Scott.
My body freakin’ loves her curves. My dick stands up and takes notice of her full breasts and wide hips.
“Tor?” she asks again.
I blink hard, trying to clear my mind. My hand recoils like it’s on fire.
“Sorry.” I grab the wrench beside her. “This is the wrench.”
And the moment is broken. For the next few weeks, I try hard to forget that moment.
That is until the day of her eighteenth birthday party when it becomes impossible to ignore that my Cat is all grown up. The mansion is adorned in pink everywhere in honor of the birthday girl. I want to telleveryone that my Cat hates pink. Her favorite color is light blue, like the color of the sky on a perfect day, she would say.
My dad hands me yet another set of keys. “Make sure you park all the cars around the back. Don’t dawdle and for God’s sake, don’t rev the engines. Mrs. Scott will raise hell if you do. She wants everything perfect.”
I just barely suppress the urge the roll my eyes, but the old man gives me a look that says he knows I want to.
“I got it, Dad. You just worry about taking all the fancy people’s coats,” I say in a sarcastic voice. “Don’t forget to kiss their ass while you’re at it.”
He does roll his eyes this time. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Someday, son, maybe someone will be taking our coats and kissin’ our asses.”
I snort. “One can only hope.”
I twirl the keys for the Mercedes parked out front and whistle as I walk away. We’ll never be rich, but at least I get to drive a rich man’s car.
“Pssh, Tor… come here!” a whispered yell distracts me from looking into the ballroom where people are already starting to mill about in their fancy clothes.Damn, it’s a nice setup.Gold silverware sparkles under the large crystal chandeliers. I shake my head.I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have that much money.
I glance towards the recognizable voice and see Cat sticking her head through the swinging kitchen door. “Come here, Tor! Please!” Her voice is more frantic now and she waves a hand outside of the door to beckon me in.
I stalk towards the door. “What the hell is it, Kitty Cat? I’ve got to get this car moved or your mom will blow a gasket. You know how she is.” Nobody crosses Mrs. Scott. She’s well…to put it politely…she’s a bitch.
She tugs on my arm, and I only get a glimpse of pink fabric as I’m yanked into the pantry.
“For the ever-lovin’…” I trail off as the light cuts on.
