Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) (16 page)

He sits next to me and offers to fill my plate. I accept with no hesitation. I miss this, having someone special with whom to share my time. Though he’s taken, I still want to bask in the romance, even if only in my imagination.

“So, Kate, tell us about yourself.” Kellan’s dad says and I’m struck with how much the two look alike.
 

I want to begin eating because the half of a sandwich didn’t fill me up, but I don’t want to be rude. I don’t want to bore them with going on about myself either. I want to learn about Kellan and his family. “Well, I moved to Madison about nine months ago and I’m a realtor with Double West Realty. I used to run a bed & breakfast with my brother and decided to do something different.”

“That’s commendable,” his mom congratulates me. “I don’t think I could ever do that. Why did you decide to up and move?”

Because my life fell apart
, I want to say, but I don’t. They don’t want me to detail my mom’s sickness and the brutal way my father was taken from me. They want the cliff notes version. “The area always appealed to me so it seemed like the perfect fit. My brother and his wife are ambitious and had so many ideas for the B&B, I thought I’d step back and let them take the reins. I figured now was the time.” I drink some water because I’m parched. “Your house is breathtaking, Mrs. Valentine.”

“Thank you, but please call me Vicky.” His parents smile at each other. “We’ve lived here for about six years now. I’m delighted we finally were able to build our dream home.” She directs her attention to Kellan. “How are you doing, dear? I didn’t even get a chance to ask you since you’ve been entertaining Kate here.”

Her choice of words bring slight discomfort. Am I the reason to blame for the two of them not having a conversation? Kellan doesn’t need to entertain me. I packed my Kindle so I can read or I can even play on my phone. I pick up my fork and start to eat, figuring now may be the only time I’m given the opportunity.

“I’m fine, Mom.” He’s stern with his response.

“No. I want to know how you’re doing. Are you and Macy any closer to picking a date, or are you still dragging your feet?”

He glances at me and apologizes with his eyes. Elsie pours wine in his glass. He thanks her and swishes it around before meeting his mom’s gaze. “Drop it, okay?”

Vicky unfolds her napkin and places it on her lap. “You’re the one who proposed. Why won’t you set a date already?”

That must have been what Kellan meant about commitment. So he doesn’t have a specific date for the wedding, yet. I wonder why not. Maybe it’s Macy. They’ve been engaged for a while. I would think Macy would push for a date on the calendar. They can’t start planning without something in stone. I wouldn’t want to wait if I were the one marrying Kellan. The second the ring slid on my finger I’d have a date in mind.

“We’re working on it. First we want to buy a house. Actually, Kate is our realtor.”

I stop chewing the roast beef, which is delicious, and glance up to everyone’s attention directed at me. Am I supposed to say something here? I quickly chew and swallow and when I open my mouth to say something — anything — his mom starts talking.

“My son here likes to do things a little out of order, I guess. His father and I think he should be married before he buys a house. If things don’t work out, adding a house into the mix will make splitting up more difficult. We want Macy to sign a prenup, but he won’t even entertain the idea.”

How much money does he have? He started his house hunt with a pre-approval so I didn’t need to run anything. So what if they want a prenup? If he has anywhere close to the amount of cash his parents obviously do, I don’t blame them. You need to protect yourself in this world.

“Let’s not talk about this right now, Mom. It’s not the time or place.” He looks at me again. Those eyes, so apologetic, so sincere, I’m drawn to them like I need them myself to see. “Sorry. Sometimes my mother picks inappropriate times to discuss things.”

“When am I supposed to discuss it?” Her fork clanks against her plate as she sets it down, startling me. As she fold her hands and rests her chin on her forefingers, her lips purse together. The kindness in her face shifts into anger. “My son — my
only son
— rarely even calls me anymore. If I want to see you, I can’t even turn on the television since you and your sister decided to stay back in Madison. I’m forced to search online and watch one of your webcasts. Gretchen doesn’t call often, either. I barely know my own granddaughter.”

Kellan pokes at the cooked carrots, pushing them around, refusing to lift his head. “I’ll call more. I’ve been busy.”

“I should hope so. And I don’t know what you could be busy doing.” She moves her eyes toward me and back to him. I shudder in discomfort. “You’re certainly not planning a wedding.” Does she think we’re involved?

Kellan’s mouth starts to twitch. I’ve yet to witness him upset and his mom is making him that way. The last thing I want to do is sit at this table and be the audience to this argument. We need a distraction.

“Snowball fights!” I shout and everyone stares at me.

“Snowball fights?” Kellan smiles.

“Yeah.” I dab the corner of my mouth with my napkin. “Snowball fights. We have them, well, used to, every year on Thanksgiving and Christmas, so long as there was snow on the ground. I usually only participated to pelt my brother in the face a few times without it seeming too obvious I
really
wanted to do it. But we always had so much fun. My dad especially. He was a master hider and always sneaked up on me. Do you have any traditions?”

“We
did
, didn’t we, Kellan?” His mom picks up her knife and starts slicing her meat, cutting vigorously and stabbing her fork into it. She forcefully shoves it into her mouth.

I didn’t think discussing a holiday tradition would create such tension. Either I have a real knack for this kind of thing or there’s quite a rift between the two. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause any arguments. I only was trying to make conversation. I’m a little uncomfortable, I guess.” Admitting that brings its own discomfort.

“I should apologize to
you
,” his dad says. “I’m so sorry Kellan is being so rude and not joining in the conversation. He’s refusing to participate.” He puts his knife and fork down, his eyebrows darting to a V.

What’s happening? My simple attempt to make small talk is unraveling. His mom is twisting everything around and turning it on him, and now his dad is joining in. I glance out the large window in the dining area hoping the snow has finally stopped, but instead I only see darkness. Nighttime has fallen, and the mix of snow and rain pelt the window.
 

Kellan pushes his chair out and excuses himself. I don’t want to be left alone eating with his parents. Luckily, I don’t have to.

“Kate, would you care to join me in a snowball fight?”

A smile warms my face and the twinkle in his eyes speak both of spite for his parents and the good-natured, fun guy I’m sure is in there. He reaches his hand out and I take it. Again. This is the second time our hands touched today and I love it. “I’d be honored to whip your butt in a snowball fight.”

He winks at me as he leads me to retrieve my jacket. We step out into the freezing cold air. I don’t care my hair is getting wet and the ice is scratching my face. I’m going to enjoy the snow.

I grab a handful of snow and pack it as tightly as I can. Kellan disappeared into the darkness, but I’m staying close to where the outside lights are. I’ll need to be stealth if I plan to attack first. As soon as the snowball is molded hard as a hardball, I hide it behind my back, ready for fire. I tread lightly on the snow trying my best not to crunch as I tiptoe. I make my way out of the light and farther away from the house, swinging my head from side to side, watching for any shadows and listening for any footsteps.

The air is silent. Even if cars pass on the street, the driveway is set such a distance from the road I wouldn’t even be able to hear them. I inch into the moonlight, careful of my surroundings. The yard is quite large and this far out of the city running into wildlife isn’t out of the question. I approach the tree and duck behind it. I stand there, waiting for Kellan’s shadow to creep past me so I can jump out and send him into a fit of high-pitched screams as I pelt him with my snowball. Normally I’m not afraid of the dark, but being in an unfamiliar place and anticipating my enemy’s attack, my flight or fight response system is rising in fear. Snow creaks to the left of me so I quickly turn and pull my arm back, and as I go to throw the snowball, a burst of snow splatters onto my face. I spit out the shavings that creep into my mouth, but my lips are already beginning to numb.
 

“Gotcha!” Kellan calls out and jumps out from behind a different tree. He points both hands at me with his pointer finger directed at me and does a cute little victory dance. He’s not getting off that easily.

I pat the powder off my gloves and scoop up another snowball and whip it at him. He’s lucky I didn’t hit him in the face. It’s an awfully good looking face that must stay that way for television. Instead, I manage to bulldoze him in the stomach, causing him to keel over and grunt in pain.

“Damn, Kate, you’re ruthless.” He lunges toward me and I’m given no choice but to run. Racing through the snow, the wetness seeps through my boots and socks. I don’t care. I keep running, spitting out the flakes that land on my tongue and ignoring the burning sensation on my cheeks from the cold air. Before I know it, Kellan catches up with me and grabs me around my waist. We spin in a circle, three times around, before falling to the ground. Laughter pours out of us as we roll down the hill, and when we come to a stop, he’s lying on top of me.

We don’t say anything. We lay there, with his body pressing against mine, trying to catch our breath. The snow crunches beneath us, and our jackets rub together. Even though I’m freezing cold, I’m hot inside. Our eyes flick back and forth from each other, and I’m sure we’re contemplating the same thing. Our moment from the piano room has a second chance. Kellan brushes the hair peeking out from my hat. He’s going to kiss me. I close my eyes in anticipation, waiting for his lips to touch mine.

“We should head inside.” He pushes off me, avoiding any eye contact.

“Um, okay.” Cupid keeps throwing these chances at us, but every time ends with my heart in the gutter. One kiss. I want
one
kiss. I push my hands into wet ground and get up.
 

“You should change.” I look down at my soaked-through jeans which are now sticking to my thighs. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.”

We both know I won’t and he’s only stopping what was about to happen. As much as I want this, and I think he does too, he’s engaged to Macy.
Engaged
. I’m not that type of person, and I hope Kellan isn’t either. This night, though, it’s perfect. The falling snow, the rolling on the ground — who
wouldn’t
kiss in a situation like this? A fairy tale setting.

Except not mine.

••••••••••

“I look like a boy,” I tell Kellan as I pull at the string of my sweatpants. I can’t believe
this
is what I packed. I guess I didn’t plan on spending the night with him or I might have chosen something a tad more feminine.

“You look fine. Besides, you’re only sleeping in it. Who are you trying to impress?”

You
, I want to tell him. I don’t want him to view me as one of his buddies. Put me in my yoga pants and a slim fit A-line shirt and that will capture his attention. I thought tonight I would be retiring to a hotel bed after watching
60 Minutes
and checking the lock on the door three times after the episode freaked me out. This never came into my plan.

“If you need me, I’m right down the hall.”
 

A few doors away, lying in bed, stripped down to boxer briefs. I imagine forest green ones. He’ll be sleeping pleasantly while I’m in here, hot and bothered by our almost kisses, cursing fate for him being taken. All I want to do is pound my fists into his chest and scream how much I want him and want him to want me back.

“I’ll be fine.” Not entirely a lie. I
will
be okay. I may suffer from a school girl crush, but I’m a grown woman. I don’t actually plan on acting out these thoughts.

I’m set up in the guest room, but the area feels more like a suite. I swear this one room is the size of my condo. A king-size bed set against a pin cushion headboard is the focus with the headboard rising up to the tray ceiling. A chandelier hangs over. Next to the bed, an arched doorway leads to a balcony, and I can’t wait to check out the view in the morning. A chaise lounge stacked with pillows sits at the end of the bed. The dressers and tables surrounding give an antique impression with exquisite lamps and vases full of flowers. Though I’m not a fan of carpeting, the light textured plush provides comfort to my aching feet. This house isn’t a mansion — it’s a castle.

Kellan is still hovering around, but I think I want to be alone now. “Thanks, Kellan. I’ll be okay.” I repeat myself until he gets the hint.

I don’t know what to do with myself once he’s gone. After our time outside, my adrenaline is pumping too fast for me to go right to sleep. Our missed kiss and him rushing me into the guest room to turn in for the evening leaves me confused and embarrassed. I wish to spend more time with him, but shooing him away is the best option. I doubt my sweatpants and Wisconsin Badgers sweatshirt could seduce him, but the more we’re together, the more I fall for him.
If
the attraction is mutual, we should keep our distance. Tomorrow we’ll drive to the tournament and I’ll catch a ride back with someone else.

I walk the perimeter of the room touching every piece of furniture and imagining the history behind it. Did they move into this house and buy everything new, or is everything here accompanied with a fantastic story? Is the dresser passed down from Kellan’s grandfather and did the comforter once belong to his great aunt? Did his mom once do her makeup at the vanity table? I like furniture with a history to them. It pains me not to know what lived beneath these pieces of furniture.