Forever in Love (29 page)

“You must be pretty serious about his talent to spend so much of Barron’s money.”

“He’s really good. I don’t know how you guys didn’t realize you had the next great artist in your own backyard when he’s been drawing things for you all these years.”

Blaine shrugged. “We just never knew. He sometimes doodled on The Line walls, and I had to tell him to stop. I was planning to paint over them next time I cleaned the place up.”

“Oh my god, no!” she said, gasping in horror. “That ‘doodling’ will probably quadruple the value of the building.”

“Is that so?” He shook his head slightly. “Wish I painted.”

“Why?”

“Cause then you might look at me with half the interest you have for your artists.”

She reached over and held his hand gently. “You don’t have to be an artist to hold my attention, Blaine. Do you have any idea how grateful I am for your support and patience?”

“I’m happy to be on your side.”

“It’s just…scary. Because I have to make this work. When I was growing up, nobody thought I’d amount to anything except some rich guy’s wife. I believed it too. I don’t have the confidence and self-reliance you have. I feel so guilty that I’m asking you to wait because this can’t be what you want and—”

“Shhhh.” Putting a finger on her lips, Blaine shook his head. “I wouldn’t be here with you like this if it wasn’t what I wanted. I wish I could do more to prove that I’m not gonna be like your asshole ex, but it is what it is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. If he hadn’t been such a dickhead, you might not be this wary…but at the same time you might’ve never come to Cooter’s Bluff at all. So, you know. It all worked out.”

Blaine was right about that. If Jacob hadn’t turned out to be a bigamist, she would’ve still been trapped in her miserable marriage. Her in-laws would still think the worst of her, her relationship with her cousins would still be strained, and she would have never found the courage to take care of herself.

And she would never have met Blaine.

Then Blaine glanced at his watch and rose. “Well, ten o’clock. Guess I should get on home.”

“You don’t have to.”

He shifted his weight. “If I stay, I’m going to want to make love to you.” He ran a hand down her cheek. “I promised myself I wouldn’t rush you, but I also know myself. I’m weak for you, Catherine.”

None of Jacob’s pretty words and empty promises had touched her the way Blaine’s simple ones did. He never just said them, but showed her with action. The need she had for him was fierce and frightening, and she wrapped herself around him. “You think I’m not weak for you?” She whispered as she felt an erection grow against her belly. “You think I don’t want you? I’m scared at how much I want you. I’m so afraid that if I give in to this need, I might never find myself again.”

“I’ll find you, Catherine,” Blaine said, his voice low. “I’ll never let you get lost.”

She rose on her toes and kissed him. It was true he made her weak with longing, but at the same time his support and love formed pillars upon which she could stand.

Suddenly there was knocking on the door. When she didn’t immediately move to answer, it became a pounding. “Catherine Scarlett Fairchild, I know you’re in there!”

Every cell in her body froze at the determined voice of her mother. Olivia had never left Charleston since she’d returned to her hometown after Sebastian’s death. What was she doing here in Cooter’s Bluff?

“I can’t believe this,” Catherine said.

“Somebody you know?”

“Yes. My mother.” Catherine forced herself to pull away from him and opened the door. No need to give the entire town something to talk about.

Blaine had expected Catherine’s mother to be beautiful—that stunning face had to come from somewhere—but he’d never expected her to be so cold and hard. The woman didn’t even have to open her mouth. It was in her eyes, in the way she carried herself; she was far better than anybody around.

She walked inside like an empress, her shiny high heels clacking on the hardwood floor. The black knee-length silk dress she wore made her appear even thinner than she was, and she was already pretty damn thin. Maybe she was on a salad diet like Catherine had been.

“Hello, mother. I wasn’t expecting you.” The warmth in Catherine’s voice had vanished. She sounded wary and stiff.

“If you’d given me your phone number, I wouldn’t have had to come all the way out here.” Olivia curled her lips. Her gaze barely flickered to Blaine, immediately dismissing him as inconsequential. “This is such a horrid town.”

“Sorry about that,” Catherine said. “What’s wrong?”

“Salazar told me the most bizarre story about you, and I simply had to confirm it myself. He sounded entirely too gleeful.” Olivia took a deep breath. “Is it true you took a job?”

“Yes. I’m working for Barron Sterling, curating pieces for his art collection.”

Olivia closed her eyes as though she’d seen something distasteful. “Catherine, how many times have I told you? We do not serve.”

“I’m not fetching morning tea in a French maid’s outfit, mother. It’s an excellent job, and he pays me well. He appreciates me.”

“Hogwash. If he really appreciated you, he would’ve married you.”

Blaine stared at the older woman, incredulous.
This
was the sort of mother Catherine had to put up with all her life? An alligator would’ve been more maternal.

He took a step forward. “Hey, now.” No one talked to Catherine like that. No one, especially not in front of him.

Catherine held his wrist and shook her head. “This is my fight, not yours, Blaine.”

“But—”

“Let me.” She turned to her mother. “In case you haven’t realized, Barron is Kerri’s grandfather. Marrying him would turn me into her grandmother. Do you know how awkward that would be?”

“What’s awkward about becoming Mrs. Barron Sterling?” Olivia said. “He’s been widowed for years now. Nobody would think anything of it that he wants a beautiful young wife.”

“I would be an ornament, nothing more. Do you honestly want that over a real, respectable career for me?”

“Catherine, dear. This is your
chance
. Barron’s already got a granddaughter, so he won’t want you to produce a child at his age. And what’s all this talk about a career? You know you aren’t particularly intelligent. You can barely read. Your teachers, bless their hearts, worried you might be a bit disabled…mentally that is.”

Blaine flinched at the way Olivia so blithely flung such hurtful words at her own daughter, but Catherine didn’t even flicker an eyelash. She stood still enough to have been carved from ice.

Olivia wasn’t done: “Does Barron know about all this?”

“Yes. He does. He said it was irrelevant.”

“
Irrelevant!
”

“Unlike my so-called
teachers
, he doesn’t think that poor reading and writing skills make me unfit for anything except being somebody’s trophy wife.”

Olivia’s jaw dropped. She sucked air in quickly enough for it to be audible, then turned to Blaine. “You’re a man. Talk some sense into her.”

He put an arm around Catherine’s shoulders. “Ma’am, I think your daughter’s plenty sensible. Fact is, it’s you who need a talking to.”

Olivia drew back and gave Blaine a scorching head-to-toe look.

“Please don’t ask a man to talk sense into me,” Catherine said, speaking calmly. “I’m not some silly girl who needs male guidance, and can think perfectly well for myself. It’s really quite embarrassing for everyone involved. And I’ll thank you not to refer to me as disabled—or anything along those lines—anymore. Regardless of what my teachers may have thought, I know I’m not. I just needed some help. Apparently, Aunt Chantelle thought I might have been dyslexic. I may talk to a specialist about the possibility.”

“But Catherine, that would mark you for life!”

“Mother, I have a problem. It’s time to admit the fact. Seeing a specialist may help me better understand it and manage it. Now if you can’t be civil, please don’t say anything at all.”

“You’d rather hear pointless lies?”

“I’d rather have a positive self-image. One not based on my looks.” Catherine gestured at the door. “I think we’re finished now. You should go.”

“I certainly will not stay here one minute longer and be insulted by you and that redneck beer-swilling boy toy of yours.”

“This beer-swilling redneck happens to be Salazar’s son. He might let your insult go, but Salazar might not take it so kindly,” Catherine said.

Olivia stood staring at her daughter for a long moment, then spun and made her grand exit. Her skirt swirled so expertly Blaine was sure she’d practiced the move for hours in front of a mirror. The front door slammed shut and Catherine sagged against him.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize she’d show up like that.”

“Tough that you have to deal with somebody like her,” Blaine said. “She’s…” He stopped and selected his word carefully. No matter what, she was Catherine’s mother. “…kind of awful.”

Catherine laughed. It wasn’t pretty. “You’re right. She is awful.” Tears formed in her eyes, and he held her tight, trying to absorb some of the hurt she must’ve felt.

“I’m so proud of you, Catherine,” he whispered into her silky hair. “You were great.”

Catherine blinked the tears away. “You think so?”

“Yeah. Your mother shouldn’t talk to you like that. Hell, no one should.”

“You know what? You’re right. And I actually feel good that I was able to stand up to her.” She took a deep breath then smiled up at him. It was so beautiful it made him dizzy with longing. “You don’t mind that she’s right about my reading and writing, do you?”

“Honey, I ain’t exactly Shakespeare myself.”

She melted into him, her arms tight around his torso. “It’s so nice to know I don’t have to hide it. I never let anybody get too close in case they found out. I thought if they knew, they wouldn’t want me.”

“Catherine, baby, if anybody judges you like that, they don’t deserve you in the first damn place.”

“I know that now. But I didn’t for the longest time.”

Blaine’s heart constricted. How alone she must’ve been. He couldn’t imagine trying to appear perfect all the time. Just the idea was exhausting. He’d sworn he wouldn’t rush her, that he’d give her all the time in the world to decide when she was ready, but he couldn’t stop the swelling of emotion. “Baby, you’ll never be alone like that again. I love you.”

* * *

Her lips parted, and Catherine covered them with her hand. She couldn’t speak through the lump in her throat, and she was so scared to tell him the three words that were dying to come out.

“I’m not saying that to push you into anything you aren’t comfortable with,” he said. “I want you to know I’ll wait until you’re sure.”

But when would she be that sure? Wasn’t a relationship always a risk, and hadn’t she just proved to herself that she wasn’t some pushover? She’d never talked back to her mother that way or demanded her respect. At her most defiant, she’d just stew and then become depressed and upset.

Looking into Blaine’s eyes, she knew he’d do as he said. He’d wait for her. He’d never make her do anything she didn’t want to do, and her opinions and preferences mattered to him. She wouldn’t have to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

So what’s the problem
,
Catherine? Take him
.
Grab him and don’t let him go
.

She finally lowered her arm and spoke in a shaky voice. “I love you too…but there’s something I have to tell you.” She took his hand and led him to the couch. “Please don’t interrupt until I’m finished. I’m not even sure if I can talk about it calmly. It’s something that’s been an issue in my life for a while.”

“It can’t be that bad.” He spoke lightly, but his brow knit slightly, giving him away. He turned her hand in his until their fingers were linked. She drew a measure of calm and peace through the connection.

“There’s a good chance that I might not be able to have children,” she spoke fast so she could get it out before she lost courage. “I wasn’t able to conceive during my marriage, and I don’t know why.”

“Didn’t you see a doctor?”

“No. Jacob didn’t want to. He wanted it done naturally or not at all. But we tried for a long time, and it never happened. Whatever else anyone can say about him, Jacob took care of himself physically, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that whatever was wrong was wrong on my end. I want you to know that because…well, you said you wanted children.”

“I want children with you, Catherine. But if we can’t have ’em, then okay. We can try some fertility treatment, and if that doesn’t work, it just wasn’t meant to be. We can always adopt. It doesn’t matter to me or have any effect on my love for you.”

“That’s really sweet, Blaine.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “But don’t answer without giving it some serious thought,” she said. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“Already done. When you told me you wanted children and things didn’t work out, I kinda thought it might be something like this.”

She blinked as tears gathered in her eyes. “Blaine, I had no idea.”

“How could you? We never got a chance to talk about it. So I’m telling you now.”

“There’s more. My mother. She’s going to expect you to maintain her household and possessions. Don’t let her guilt you into it. She won’t downsize and will always insist on living in a house that’s too grand for her circumstances, simply out of pride.”

“Don’t worry. I can handle her.”

“Also I might not be able to live in Cooter’s Bluff. I know you like the town and everything, but I’m going to need to be able to travel easily when necessary. And—”

He put a finger on her lips. “It’s okay. I’m probably going to have to move anyway. I’ve been hoping I could stay here, but even if I get an assistant, there’s going to be people waiting every time I step outside.” He cupped her face in his rough callused hand. “Now look, is there anything else I should know, or are we about done here?”

Suddenly, all the tension in her life seemed to have vanished, and her heart could beat without the terrible vise around it. Blaine’s beloved face blurred. She wiped the tears away, so she could always remember all the details of his shining eyes and loving smile. “No.”