Almost Like Being in Love (8 page)

She'd never know the true cost of her drinking. Never be able to reckon it.

Quick, silent strides brought him to her bedside. His hand on her shoulder only reinforced how little she weighed—her form skeletal beneath his touch.

“Mom? It's Alex.”

With a mumble, she buried her face in the pillow.

He crouched beside her, raising his voice in an attempt to break through her drugged sleep. “Are you hungry? I brought you some lunch.”

Her lids flickered . . . open . . . shut . . . open . . . revealing bloodshot eyes that held no glint of recognition. “Wha—?”

“Are you hungry?”

She closed her eyes, lifting her hand in a feeble attempt to push him away. “No . . . go away . . .”

Alex rose to his feet. Covered his mother with the top sheet. Best to let her sleep it off. She wouldn't remember he was there. And if she did wake up, she'd only get herself all worked up again, talking to him—and then drink more once he left. He knew the routine well. All too well.

Once in the kitchen again, he drained the third bottle into the sink and then threw it in the trash, the rattle of glass too loud in the silence that lurked in the house. Grabbing a piece of paper, he scrawled a note and left it on the counter, letting his mother know he'd left the salad in the fridge.

Crisis averted. Again. He'd report back to his father. He could call Caron and ask her for prayer. But he wouldn't. Not when she was already so stressed. This kind of day with his mother was nothing new. They'd talk later tonight and she'd know just what to say. At times like this he realized how much he loved her. Needed her. This was one of the reasons they were so right for each other. She knew his secrets. Kept his secrets. Loved him in spite of his secrets.

K
ade could either ignore the growling of his stomach until he got home and scavenged through the few leftovers in his fridge, make himself a protein shake, or stop and grab something to go and reheat it.

A guy had to eat.

He merged into the left-turn lane leading into University Village, mentally scrolling through restaurant options.
Tokyo Joe's. Which Wich. Chipotle. Panera. Noodles & Company.
Or he could just drive through Starbucks . . . but his body demanded something more than sugar and caffeine topped off with cream.

Chipotle.
He'd grab a burrito and an iced tea, and get back on the road in less than ten minutes.

After circling the crowded parking lot twice before finding a parking space, he resigned himself to the reality that his wait at Chipotle might be longer than he'd prefer. He moved between cars, his thoughts scrolling ahead to the work waiting for him at home. He needed to check in with Mitch. Touch base with Eddie Kingston . . .

He stopped midstride as the driver's-side door of a white sedan swung open and a woman with short brown hair and sparkly earrings that almost reached her shoulders stepped out.

“Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't see you there—” The woman apologized with a light laugh that ceased altogether when she saw his face. “Kade!”

“Hey, Margo, what are you doing here?”

“Um . . . I'm going to dinner with—” She removed her tortoiseshell sunglasses, her gaze tracking left as someone else stepped out of the passenger side of the car.

Caron Hollister.

The woman gripping the roof of the car was Caron Hollister. Light brown hair that hung past her shoulders. She must have abandoned the blonds-have-more-fun motto. Hidden behind a pair of pink retro sunglasses as they were, Kade couldn't see her brown eyes, the same color as a smoky topaz gemstone. She offered him the smile of a professional Realtor. Businesslike, but with just a hint of practiced charm.

“Kade.”

“Caron's visiting me this week.” Margo rushed into the looming silence. “Taking a few days off after—”

“Just taking some time off.” Caron shut the car door with enough force to rock the car. “We're having dinner at Hacienda.”

“Nice choice. I like their fajitas.” Kade could maintain a casual tone, too, as if running into Caron Hollister, who should be two thousand miles away from here—and who was two years in his past—was a normal part of his day.

“We'll keep that in mind.” Margo took a few steps back.

“Did you see the e-mail I sent you?”

At Kade's question, Margo stopped, sparing a quick glance at Caron, who waited by the front of the car. “No. We've been out
and about all day. Garden of the Gods. Glen Eyrie. That sort of thing. I haven't checked my e-mail that much.”

“I found a few new listings I thought you and Ronny might want to look out. Let me know what you think.”

“Absolutely.”

“We can take a look at them later this week if you want to—”

“I'll have to check with Ronny. And Caron is here until Sunday night.”

“Don't worry about me, Margo.” Caron raised her voice to be heard over the sound of a passing Harley. “I can entertain myself if you want to go look at some houses.”

“Just text me. Whatever works.” Kade nodded at Margo, then Caron. “Ladies. I'm off to get dinner. Enjoy yourselves.”

•  •  •

He'd tossed the white Chipotle bag into the passenger seat of his SUV, secured the cup of iced tea in the holder, and cranked up the radio, the lyrics to “What We Ain't Got” filling the car—until he twisted the knob and silenced the song. Dinner would be cold by the time he got home, but so be it. Any food he dropped or dribbled, he only had to clean up later.

Not worth it.

His phone rang and he connected to the in-car Bluetooth before it had a chance to ring a second time.

“Kade Webster, Webster Select Realty.”

“Hey, boss.”

“How goes it, Mitch?”

“It's been a productive day. Although it is good to get my legs off and get back in the wheelchair—”

“Really, man? When are you going to stop saying stuff like that?”

“Hey, the things make me more mobile, but after a while they get old.” Mitch laughed. “Gotta have a sense of humor, right?
Anyway, I got a good offer on the property out in Falcon.”

“Excellent.”

“Lacey told me to call you, see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“Your girlfriend is determined to feed me. Thanks for the invitation.” Kade maneuvered the car onto I-25 heading north, allowing other cars to go ahead of him on the on-ramp. He wasn't in a rush. “But I picked up a carnitas burrito from Chipotle. I'm good.”

“You sure? A burrito will keep. Have it for breakfast tomorrow.”

“I appreciate the offer, but tell Lacey I'll take a rain check this time.”

“Everything okay?”

“Sure.” He debated saying anything more and then continued. “I ran into Caron Hollister earlier.”

“Caron . . . Hollister?
The
Caron Hollister?”

“One and the same.”

“She lives in Florida—”

“She's visiting Margo Owens, who happens to be one of my clients. I saw them in the University Village parking lot. They're going to dinner at Hacienda.”

“And?”

“And nothing. I saw her.” Kade tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, stuck behind a slow-moving U-Haul van hauling a Jeep. “I'm not even certain we managed a formal hello and goodbye.”

“If Lacey were in on this conversation, she'd ask how you were feeling.”

“But she's not. And I'm fine. A bit surprised to see Caron on my turf . . . but fine. According to Margo, she'll be gone in a few days.”

“Then let's get back to talking business, shall we?”

“It beats talking about old girlfriends. Let's leave that to the country songs.” Kade signaled, moving to the left lane to pass the U-Haul. “I know how to sell houses. Caron Hollister? Obviously I didn't know her as well as I thought I did.”

Q
uitting her job had its perks.

Caron slipped into a jewel-tone swing tank that complemented her khaki capris. A few days of sleeping in, several shopping days with Margo that might require her borrowing a second suitcase to get everything back home, hiking through Ute Park—she was beginning to remember how to relax.

“You dressed?” Margo rapped on the door to her small guest bedroom and then walked in.

“Hey! How about giving me a chance to say yes or no?”

“But you're dressed.”

“But I might not have been—oh, never mind. Honestly, you've reverted back to acting like we're living in a dorm again.” Their laughter blended together as she selected a pair of gold hoop earrings from her zippered jewelry case and Margo stretched out on her bed. “So, what's on the schedule today?”

“I thought we'd keep it low-key, since we're heading to Telluride tomorrow.”

“You know we don't have to do that.”

“Oh, yes we do. You're going back to Florida to tell Alex you won a destination wedding in Telluride, right? You need to see the area so you can tell him how beautiful it is.”

“I certainly haven't figured out how to tell him over the phone that I won a wedding.” Caron slipped on the first earring. “I'm not sure what he's going to say when I come home and tell him that I brought him a destination wedding back from my impromptu vacation. I think he'll be expecting something more along the lines of a Colorado T-shirt or a key chain.”

“Like you've never done something surprising, Caron? Remember, Alex knew you back in high school when you went through your various fashion stages, including a toned-down Goth girl, skater chick, and finally settled on the award-winning athlete.” Margo gave her a quick once-over. “I bet you go to bed at a decent hour every night now, don't you?”

“Trying to fit in at Hollister Realty.” She finished with the second earring and did a quick bend-over-and-back-up to flip out her hair. “Be more of what my dad expects from one of his employees.”

“Well, even with the conservative hairstyle and clipping your nails short, that doesn't mean you've clipped your wings, does it?” Margo rolled over on her back and sat up. “You're still allowed to be yourself, aren't you?”

“Of course. Off hours.”

“Huh. If I know you, those are few and far between—for the same reason. You're trying to keep your dad happy.”

Keeping her father happy. It's what she did best—or rather, what she'd tried to do for so many years, it came easily to her. And yet here she was, unemployed. She wasn't as good at pleasing her father as she thought.

“Can we get this conversation back on track? What are we doing—”

At the sound of her cell phone in the other room, Margo bolted off the bed. “Hold that thought. I'll be right back.”

She returned ten minutes later, phone in hand, her red-tinted lips twisted and her well-thinned eyebrows furrowed.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She slumped onto the edge of the bed. “That was Kade. He called to tell me that we could go see one of the houses he found a few days ago. He has an appointment set up today. At noon. But I told him I couldn't go.”

“Why not?”

“Because you're here, obviously. We have plans.”

“Today's our low-key day. I can hang out here while you're gone. Go ahead and see if it's something you and Ronny would like.”

“I don't want to leave you alone here.”

“Fine. I'll come with you.”

Now why did she say that? Seeing Kade for even those brief, barely-say-hello moments in the parking lot had unsettled her. The man's black hair, his broad shoulders, his brown eyes that she'd recalled even though they'd been hidden behind his dark sunglasses—how easily she remembered the man's attractiveness. Why was she offering to be in the same room—the same house—with him?

Because she could tell her friend was torn—wanting to go check out the house but not wanting to abandon her.