finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) Page 10

  Jupiter eyes me and says, “No, asswipe. She didn’t. I called her a while back and told her how I feel about Catalina, and how I think I’ve been smothering her since we met. I told her I was thinking about returning to work, but was worried she’d run off and lose interest in me. Mom said a little distance between us could make us stronger, and you know more than anyone Mom is almost never wrong. I’m leaving not because I want to hurt Catalina. The client is demanding only to work with me, and the pay is insane. I’d be a liar if I don’t admit I miss working. At the end of the day, I need to prove my relationship with Catalina is ready for the next step. Having a little distance put between us will give us both a new perspective. Does that make sense?”

  I nod, and smile at his honesty. He’s leaving for their relationship, to make it healthy and grow. I totally get it, but my humor gets the better of me. Wiggling my eyebrows, I gab, “No worries, man. I’ll make sure to keep her, erm, entertained, while you’re away.”

  Jupiter stops and frees my hand, and I cringe, knowing what’s coming. His usual, angry old man temper comes out.

  Smack.

  “Oww,” I gripe, as my hand reaches to soothe the back of my head. “Why’d you do that for?” I ask between chuckles.

  “You know why, you jerk. You will not be entertaining Catalina in any way, got it? I will saw your balls off and serve them on spaghetti.”

  I raise my hands in defeat as loud laughs escape me. “I was kidding! Jeez.”

  “Good, because I mean it.”

  He takes hold of my hand and when we reach the gym, he tells the good doctor his patient almost didn’t make it in one piece. I shake my head, still laughing, and lay down on the mat where Dr. B will be working on my stupid legs. Catalina walks in and looks at us with a knowing smile. Jupiter kisses her, and whispers something into her ear, which makes her turn the color of ripe tomatoes. Those two.

  Catalina crosses her arms and walks towards me with an unmistakably embarrassed look on her face. I raise my hands and cross them behind my head with a smug smile. She pokes me in the ribs, which are still super tender, and my arms come down to shield them as I grimace.

  “Why do you work him up, huh, Jax?” she teases with a huge smile.

  “Oh, you know, I like to mess with the old man. Damn, you two need to get anger management classes. You guys like to abuse me without reason,” I scold in mock disgust. Catalina points her finger at me, her eyes zoning in on my ribs again. “Don’t you fucking dare, Pardo!”

  She holds onto her belly and laughs. I join in, but keep my eyes on her because, like Stryder, she can be unpredictable and playful. Cat kisses my cheek and leaves the gym, no doubt to make whatever time she has left with Jupiter count. I’m left to my own devices with the good doctor.

  “Okay, Jackson. Today we’ll be working on the range of motion of your Sartorius muscles in your thighs,” Doctor Torture Cock says with a smile. “Are you ready?”

  Sure. I’m pretty sure he’s a sick, demented bastard who enjoys forcing my muscles into doing things they aren’t ready to do.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I reply under my breath.

  He lifts my leg and positions it at a ninety degree angle. I bite my tongue in preparation for the massive pain that will surely follow. “Try to bring your knee in as close as possible to your chest, okay?” the Doc encourages.

  As I move my leg, I pray the next hour goes by quickly because the pain is unreal.

  “Have I mentioned I hate this?” I tell Dr. B through gritted teeth.

  “I know, Jackson. But it’s a necessary evil. If you want to snowboard again, you have to endure this,” he replies while holding my leg.

  “Fuck! Why not shoot me instead and take me out of my misery?”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Reese, you don’t pay me to pity you. I can empathize with your pain, but your biggest roadblock is your mind,” Dr. B declares, meaning all business and zero pleasure.

  I shrug my shoulders on the mat and mentally curse him and his entire lineage for the pain that follows. I can’t believe I’m paying him thousands of dollars to make me cry like a goddamn baby. I can’t wait for this rehab bullshit to end.

  I look at the picture hanging on the wall to our right. It’s me when I was about twelve going down Thunder Ridge Mountain. I keep my eyes focused on it during the entire session, thinking about that day. It seems like yesterday I was this goofy kid without a care in the world, just shredding lines and having fun.

  Despite my insolence towards rehab, deep down I know the good doctor is right. It’s all in my head. If I can get my heart to connect with my brain, I’ll heal with time, and if I try my damndest, I can be a champ again. My family is counting on me, so is the country, but more importantly, so am I.

  THE SMELL OF FRESHLY MINCED garlic and sweet basil wafts in the kitchen as I work on making us dinner. This is my second-to-last night here in Casper before my month-long assignment overseas, and I’m dreading leaving those who I love behind. I want to make my time here with Catalina memorable, so today I’m cooking for her for the first time. I’ve made sure to call my Dad and ask him for Nonna’s sauce recipe, and even went through the painstaking process of making fresh Cavatelli on the granite countertop.

  My mind is racing a mile a minute, thinking how amazing my life has been since I met Catalina. Sure, it hasn’t been easy, but all in all, life is amazing at the moment. I try not to dwell on the duration of my assignment, because it will only make the wait seem longer than necessary. This upcoming assignment will give me more than ample time to set my plans in motion. If you thought I was going to sit idle while several oceans divide us, well, you’re mistaken. I’m going to find myself and determine the next step I’ll take to make the love of my life mine. People change with time, or with love, and it’s mind-blowing to think I’m eager to ask Catalina the one question I swore I’d never ask again.

  I can’t help the ear-splitting grin that’s on my face right now as I stir the pasta. The steam emanating from the pot is a great reminder of the warmth and love Catalina inspires in both my heart and body. And yeah, I’m going to miss her heart-shaped mouth and tan skin when I’m gone. What’ll happen to her? Will she miss me? And just like that, the smile on my face disappears. As I’m about to lose my shit over my bullshit insecurities, I hear Catalina’s footsteps approaching. She can’t see me worrying; that would make matters worse. I take a deep breath, inhaling peace and exhaling anxiety, and try to appear normal when I’m anything but.

  “What in the world are you cooking in here, Stryder?” Catalina exclaims, raising her head and taking a whiff.

  Chuckling, I respond. “Oh, it’s nothing really. Just Cavatelli and sauce, and in the oven I’m toasting a baguette for Bruschetta.” Catalina moves to stand behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. I let go of the spoon and turn around to face her. Cradling her face and looking deep into her eyes, I say, “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Catalina’s eyes glisten with warmth. “I’m hungry, all right. Always.”

  Her response is so goddamn sexy, and the way she’s looking up at me makes my blood rush south. I chuckle as she wiggles her eyebrows at me saucily. I turn around and grab the spoon, dipping it lightly into the crushed tomato sauce. I blow on the metal spoon to cool the sauce and bring it to her mouth. Her plump lips open and when the sauce hits her taste buds, Catalina closes her eyes and moans. I exhale trying to compose myself because she always manages to make the simplest of things so damn erotic.

  “Mmm, that tastes so good, Stryder,” Catalina whispers, as her tongue darts from her mouth to lick her lips. “A girl could get used to this.”

  I lower my head and kiss the tip of her nose. “Hmm. Something to consider . . . I’m not a chef, but I can hold my own. Mom and Dad taught me how to cook some family staples. I hope you like it.”

  “You’re talented, in more ways than one,” she says with a wink.

  Smirking, I toss the spoon into the sink, then wrap my arms around her and pla
ce my lips over hers. I kiss her, nice and slow; the taste of my cooking mixed with her unique flavor has me thirsty for more. My hand grabs the back of her neck as I deepen the kiss, and her hands clutch my hips possessively. There’s a thickness between us, and I’m not referring to the one in my pants. Our never-ending need for each other is prevalent with each lap of my tongue against hers.

  The oven timer beeps, and, breathing hard, I break away to remove the tray of baguette slices before they burn. Catalina runs to the refrigerator and grabs the Bruschetta mix, and together we cover the toasted bread slices with it and set them aside. After checking the pasta I shut off the stove, and strain the Cavatelli. We set the table together, exchanging little touches and smiles. Once done, I ask Catalina to tell Jackson dinner is ready. Grabbing shallow ceramic bowls, I serve the pasta and sauce, making sure to sprinkle freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese right on top.

  Jax hobbles beside Catalina, and rubs his hands over his stomach. “Ah, nothing quite like good ol’ Martynus Italian cuisine. Dude, it smells fucking amazing in here.”

  It’s nice to see Jax smiling after all that he’s been through, and I hope he progresses with his physical therapy while I’m gone. I haven’t said anything to him, but I’m dying for all of us to hit the slopes again like the good old days. I pull his chair out at the head of the table, and he sits, grimacing slightly. I place his supper before him and wait for Catalina to take her seat and do the same.

  Once dinner is served we all hold hands and say grace. It’s something we’ve been doing since we arrived at Jax’s after the accident. Regardless of the specifics, I believe there’s a higher power watching over us, guiding our steps, and keeping us safe. If Nonna were alive, she’d be proud of me, not only for cooking but for behaving like the good Italian boy she always hoped I’d be. We dig in, and I’m satisfied with the result. Jax and Catalina have the biggest smiles on their faces as we talk about the memories we’ve made together since the day we all first met.

  “ . . . The look on your faces when you realized you were working together was priceless! I just stood there wondering what the fuck happened,” Jackson recalls, laughing and pointing at both of us. Catalina throws her head back, giggling infectiously, and I follow suit because looking back, I’m pretty sure I looked like an idiot at the time.

  “I knew the minute you guys were face to face there was something there, you know?” Jackson recalls, forking pasta from his bowl and putting it into his mouth. “I’m just happy you guys got over your bullshit and gave things a chance.”

  Catalina looks across the table, and her honeyed eyes meet mine. One glance is all it takes; my heart is whacking furiously against my ribcage.

  “Yeah,” I agree, and clear my throat from the sudden emotion lodged there. “I never imagined the world being that small. Jax, did you know Catalina and I met once before we even got to Whistler?”

  “You mean on the flight, right?”

  Chuckling loudly, I shake my head. “No. We met in the city. It was a month before the assignment. I bumped into her outside a jazz club. I was checking my email and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Catalina was walking up the ramp and didn’t see me. When we bumped into each other she fell right at my feet,” I declare smugly, and wink at Catalina across the table.

  Catalina rolls her eyes. “I don’t think your date was too thrilled you helped me up either.”

  “So hold up, let me see if I’m getting this straight. You guys met before Whistler? Why didn’t you tell me anything about this, Cat?” Jax asks.

  “That would be because she never saw my face, Jax. She was too embarrassed to look at me. I knew she looked familiar when I saw her on the flight, but it wasn’t until we were at her apartment after the press tour that I recognized her dress lying on the floor. Jax, it had skulls,” I affirm with a wink.

  “Ah. I see . . . Destiny, man . . . That just proves you can’t mess with fate and shit,” Jax mutters. As if in slow motion, his entire demeanor changes, and silence fills the room.

  Catalina looks at me wide-eyed and reaches out for Jax’s hand. His face changes, and his smile is replaced with teary eyes. He tries to shield his crying with his free hand, and his heart-breaking sobs have me inching forward in my seat. Catalina abandons her chair and crouches beside him, whispering into his ear.

  Jackson pushes his chair back, and allows Catalina to pull him up into an embrace. He uses his knuckles to wipe his tears away and looks straight at me trying to rein in his sobs.

  “Thanks for dinner, Jupiter. It was delicious.”

  In the blink of an eye, I’m standing in front of Jax with both of my arms on top of his shoulders. “What’s wrong, Jax?”

  Jackson looks down to the floor, and says, “Nothing, man. I’m just tired and ate too much.”

  “Then why the tears, Jax? You’re with family and we’ll listen. Just talk.”

  “Nothing to be worried about, Jupiter, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed with all the pills, the doctors, and how my body is crapping out on me.”

  I shake Jackson’s shoulders gently, enough to get his attention. “Bullshit, man. Something triggered you. Just talk to us,” I plead.

  Jax looks at me with reddened eyes and returns to his chair. Catalina and I re-take our seats and wait for him to speak. With a shaky hand, Jackson raises his glass of water and chugs it down. “I can’t control fate, and there’s nothing I can do to bring them back.”

  Catalina gasps, and places her hand over her mouth trying to hide the smile I already saw. Hearing Jackson talk openly about his accident is a major sign of progress. Accepting what happened is an awesome step in the right direction. I was worried he’d be consumed by guilt, and listening to him accept that the avalanche was beyond his control proves he’s coming to terms with what happened that day.

  “Yes, Jackson, we can’t control fate. What happened wasn’t your fault and no matter what, you need to understand there was nothing you could do to prevent it. It’s easier said than done, but trust me, please. I know what it’s like,” Catalina argues quietly, squeezing his hand.

  “I agree with Catalina, Jax. It was no one’s fault, kid, and the sooner you realize it the better you’ll feel. No one needs to carry around unnecessary weight; you of all people should know that. It wasn’t your fault, man,” I assert, looking at him square in the eye.

  “I know, Jup. I just need time to accept things, you know?” Jackson whispers, as two large tears roll down his cheeks.

  All I can do is hug him as hard as his body will allow, and in my arms he cries. I feel the weight of his defeated hands thwack my back repeatedly and with each breath, his body shudders. I look at Catalina, who stands by us wiping tears of her own. With each wipe of her tears I know she’s recalling her own struggles. Catalina nods at me, as if agreeing with my thoughts. She takes a step forward and wraps her arms around both of us.

  “I love you, guys,” she whispers, placing feathery kisses on both of us.

  In unplanned sync, we reply, “We love you, too.” It takes us a nanosecond to break into riotous laughter, which has Jax leaning against me for support, and Catalina patting my ass repeatedly with each giggle. To an outsider our little moment of hysteria might be considered odd and our laughter completely inappropriate, but to us it’s healing and progressing, and if the world doesn’t understand the nature of our friendship, well, that’s their own damn problem.

  We walk Jax back to his room and help him settle in for the night. He’s in good spirits cracking jokes, and asking me to grab the remote control so he can watch the adult entertainment channel.

  Catalina and I close the door behind us, shaking our heads in laughter. We return to the kitchen to tidy up while listening to soft music, Catalina washes the pots and I dry them, and then put them back into the cabinets.

  It isn’t until we’re done cleaning that I realize how natural this domesticity has become. With each passing second, I’m more determined to do everything I can to
ensure the future I’m planning becomes a reality. The more I think about it, the more the asshole grasshopper in my stomach does its number on me. Me? Nervous? Hell yeah.

  The soft jazz tune ends, and Richard Marx’s “Hold On To the Nights” starts playing in the background. As the opening verses echo softly in the large kitchen space, I hear Catalina’s angelic voice singing along. I quirk my head and watch her sing as she rinses the last few plates in the sink. I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot gawking at her.

  As soon as she hits the chorus, I turn off the water. She looks at me confused and abruptly stops. I shake my head and whisper, “Keep singing.”

  I take hold of her hand and pull her softly towards me, and she resumes singing, but this time she’s smiling as she does. I take hold of her palm, and press our joined hands against my chest. I place my free hand on the small of her back, leading my lady to dance with me. I press her close, and we move our bodies softly to the beat of the song. Catalina stops singing and our eyes meet; she’s moving alongside me, glancing now and then at her feet.

  “Cat, look at me. Don’t look at your feet, baby. Just look at me. It’s my job to lead, okay?”

  Catalina nods and lets out a nervous giggle, relaxing in my hold as if surrendering herself to my every move. She rests her head against my chest and lets out a happy sigh. “You smell good,” she whispers.

  I chuckle softly and rub her back, giving it a gentle squeeze. “And you sing beautifully, Catalina. It’s so sweet and angelic.”

  Catalina scoffs and raises her head to meet my smitten gaze. “I rarely sing ballads, Stryder. I just really like that song . . . It takes me back to Junior High.”

  “Mmm. Did you go to school dances, Cat?” I ask.

  Catalina shrugs, and replies, “I did . . . but I was the girl who sat on a bench while others danced.”

  “Why?”

  “I have two left feet, so to speak,” she replies quietly, with a shy smile marked on her heart-shaped lips.