Don't Forget Me (20 page)

Her eyes widened in something that might have been shock as she took a quick breath. “I should go.”

After another moment he loosened his hold slightly. He couldn’t stand there holding her forever, no matter how much he might want to. “Okay. Did you drive?”

She nodded silently, her gaze never leaving his face.

“Then I’ll walk you to your car.” He turned slightly, letting his arm rest across her shoulders as he took her back to her table.

Docia flashed them a quick speculative look as Kit grabbed her purse. “Done for the night?”

“Yeah.” Kit gave her a slightly strained grin, then turned back toward the street entrance.

He followed her through the gate, wondering if he could risk putting his hand on her arm. She looked fragile all of a sudden, as if she might shatter with too much pressure.

At her car, she turned to face him. “Well…” she began.

He’d never know what she might have said—whatever it was, it didn’t matter. Instead he slid his index finger under her chin, tipping it up slightly, so that he could bring his lips to hers.

The shock of it almost sent him to his knees. The taste, the feel, months stripped away, memories swamping him. And yet not the same exactly.

He wrapped his arms around her, one at her waist, one across her shoulders, holding her tight against him as he angled his mouth against hers, plunging his tongue deep inside.

After a moment, he felt her arms lock around his neck. And then she was kissing him back, hungrily, her tongue rasping against his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, hips flat against his. He felt her rise to her tiptoes, bringing the V of her legs against him.

He turned, pushing her bottom alongside the car, pressing his aching arousal hard against her. The small portion of rationality he still had was screaming, telling him to back off, while his body screamed to take it as far as he could.

And then she was pushing on his shoulders, pulling back from the kiss, panting, her lips swollen, her eyes wide with panic. “Oh god, Nando,” she gasped. “No. I can’t. I can’t do this again. It hurt too much. You don’t know how much it hurt.”

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, fighting to get breath into his lungs. “I know,” he whispered. “Christ. I know.”

“You know?” She narrowed her eyes, her voice trembling. “You can’t. How could you?”

“Because I hurt too.” He bit off the words. “Because I’ll hurt again if this goes south. I don’t want to, but I will.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression suddenly blank. Then she rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I should go home. I need to…think, I guess.”

He leaned one arm against her car, half to get strength back in his knees and half to keep her from climbing into the driver’s seat. “Have breakfast with me,” he blurted.

“What?” At least he’d managed to surprise her, apparently.

“Have breakfast with me. I’ve got to work tomorrow night, but I want to see you. You’re not working, right? The Rose doesn’t open on Sunday?” She nodded. “Then give me the morning at least.”

Kit was still watching him as if she expected him to abscond with the Sunday school funds. “Where?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Hell, Sweet Thing was closed and Deirdre didn’t open on Sundays. Where the hell else could you get breakfast? “The Coffee Corral.”

Kit took a deep breath. She looked like she was weighing a set of equally unattractive options. “What time?”

He had no idea what time Al Brosius opened, he just hoped it was early. “Nine?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then shrugged. “Nine it is.”

He backed up slightly to let her open the door, then stepped back onto the sidewalk. “I’ll pick you up. See you then.”

Kit gave him a tight smile. “I can drive.”

“I’ll pick you up,” he repeated.

After a moment, she sighed. “All right.” She climbed into her car and started the ignition. He watched her brake lights diminish as she headed toward the other end of Main.

He had a date with her, at least. What he was going to do with it, on the other hand, he hadn’t a clue.

Chapter Twelve

Kit changed her outfit twice before eight thirty the next morning. She couldn’t decide what look she was going for exactly. Strong, independent woman who really didn’t need a man to feel complete? Gorgeous girl who got away (and aren’t you sorry)? Exhausted restaurant hostess who hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep?

That was probably the look she’d end up with whether she wanted to or not.

She’d lain awake most of the night, trying to figure out what it all meant. Nando had said he’d suffered like she had. Did she believe him? Or was it just another easy thing to say to a gullible woman?
Oh baby, it hurt so bad, believe me!

Except it hadn’t looked like it was easy for him to say it. It looked like the words were pulled out of him by force. And now he wanted to see her again. For what? Another of those “civilized” conversations where they showed how over each other they were? She swore if he tried that, she’d walk out of the Coffee Corral and never look at him again.

That was some comfort—that she felt strong enough to walk out and let him suffer for his own mistakes.

What she wouldn’t think about—at all, under any circumstances—was the kiss. And, of course, saying that ensured that she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it, no matter how hard she tried. She should have pushed him away. She’d intended to do just that. Except that when he’d kissed her, she’d been hit by a wave of longing so strong it almost knocked her flat. Suddenly, all she could do was hang on. And kiss him back.

She wondered if he’d felt something similar. Somehow she doubted that he had. Except maybe, just maybe…

What was that kiss supposed to mean, anyway? He wanted her right then? He wanted her for a quick roll in the hay? He wanted her, period?

Because wanting her wasn’t enough. He had to feel something more. She did too.
And what would that something be, Catarina? Ready to put a name to it?
She closed her eyes, blocking it out. She wasn’t ready for that yet.

She blew out a breath and went back to her closet, pulling out her favorite pair of jeans and a black cotton blouse. She took off the gypsy-size hoop earrings she’d been wearing and substituted a pair of pearl studs.
Screw it.
She was going to look like herself. Let him figure out what it all meant. She sure as hell couldn’t.

She’d intended to walk over to the Coffee Corral. Arriving under her own power would send him a message about how this thing between them—whatever it was—was going to go. Nobody in charge of anybody else. But while she was gathering her purse, someone knocked. She had a feeling she knew who it was before she opened the door.

“Morning,” Nando said, leaning one hand against the doorframe. He was wearing the same clothes he’d worn the day before, or maybe they just looked the same. Kit felt like sighing. Nobody should look that good in a pair of jeans. It wasn’t fair.

She gave him her coolest smile. “Hi. I was just getting ready to walk to the Corral.”

His car was parked out front, but he shrugged. “I’ll walk with you, then. Nice morning. Allie still asleep?”

“She’s off at Wonder’s house.” Kit took a breath and headed down the front steps after locking the door, resolutely not looking at Nando walking at her side.
Just a walk. You can do this.

As they turned down Firewheel, he took her hand in his. She had a quick impulse to jerk away from him, but she stifled it. Holding hands was nothing in the great scheme of things. Kids held hands, and it didn’t mean they were thinking about anything romantic.

He laced his fingers through hers, and she swallowed hard. Not kids. Not by a long shot.

The Corral was doing a brisk business, which wasn’t surprising since it was one of the few cafés that was open on Sunday morning. Carol Brosius was behind the counter taking orders as Al fried up bacon and eggs at the grill. Her eyes might have widened slightly when she saw them, but her smile was bland. “Hey Nando, Kit, what can I get for y’all this morning?”

“Couple of bacon and egg tacos and some coffee for me.” Nando turned to her. “What would you like?”

Kit pretended she had to make up her mind, although she’d known what she was going to have from the moment he’d mentioned the Coffee Corral last night. She didn’t want to sound too eager, after all. “I think huevos rancheros, Carol. Maybe with a side of tortillas.”

They found a booth at the side, sipping their coffee while carefully not looking at each other. Kit took a breath. She wasn’t going to sit here in strained silence until her eggs arrived. “Well…”

He gave her a questioning look. “Well?”

“Why are we here exactly?”

Very good question, Ms. Maldonado.
Nando only wished he had a good answer on the tip of his tongue. Other than the one he wanted to give her:
Because you drive me crazy and I need to know why that is. And I also need to know if there’s any chance we could have anything together again.

“I don’t suppose you’d accept that I just wanted to have breakfast with you.” He took a sip of his coffee.

Kit shook her head. “Not a chance. We told each other to go to hell eighteen months ago. Then last night we…didn’t. So what’s happening here? How did we end up almost jumping each other in the parking lot after not having anything to do with each other for months?”

“We needed…” He paused, watching a small boy energetically coloring his placemat two tables over. “
I
needed to know if there was anything still between us. And there was. There is. So I guess the answer to your question is that we’re here to see what else is still between us besides just the jumping each other part.”

Kit looked like she might have something more to say about that, but just then Carol showed up with their breakfasts. Gratefully, Nando managed to occupy himself with applying salsa to his tacos.

“So how did you plan to go about this?” Kit said after she’d had time to sample her huevos.

He shrugged. “Tell me about your life. What’s been happening to you during the last eighteen months since you told me to go to hell.”

“We told each other to go to hell,” she corrected. “I finished my coursework at UTSA, did an internship at a downtown hotel, and graduated.”

“But you’re here now. You said once you were going to work in San Antonio, at your family’s place.” In fact, she’d said it when she’d told him to go to hell, which meant he remembered it very well.

She shrugged. “That didn’t work out. Aunt Allie said I could come and stay with her, so I did. I figured there’d be more opportunities here.”

Given the difference in population size between Konigsburg and San Antonio, that statement was pretty much bullshit. He waited for her to go on, but she turned back to her huevos. After a moment, she looked up at him again. “How about you? How’s the cop shop?”

He gave her a dry grin. After all, that’s what he’d called it back when they were together. “Toleffson’s a great chief. I’m assistant chief now, which means I make a little more money and have a lot more paperwork. I still moonlight a little when someplace like the fairgrounds needs extra security, but I don’t have to do it as often as I used to.”

“Do you still have the same people? Ham and Helen and, what was his name, Kurt?”

“Curtis. Curtis Peavey, and he just retired. Ham and Helen are still there, plus we’ve got a new kid, Clayton Delaney. Just started a couple of weeks ago.”

She smiled slightly. “The pool player. I heard Chico say he was whipping asses regularly.”

“Steinbruner asses, anyway. But I guess that counts.” He took another bite of his taco, trying to decide if he should tell her anything else. She hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with details herself.

Carol Brosius stopped by their table with a coffee pot, topping off his cup. “You want anything else while I’m here? Al’s doing pancakes.”

Kit shook her head. “No thanks. This is already more breakfast than I’ve had in weeks.”

Carol gave her a critical look. “You could stand a little more meat on your bones, Ms. Maldonado. Doesn’t that fancy chef at the Rose give you any food, for Pete’s sake?”

Kit grinned. “His food’s terrific, but I don’t have time to eat much. Just like you guys at lunch time, I imagine.”

“Yeah, only our customers don’t show up in Mercedes,” Carol said dryly. “If you want anything else, just holler.”

Nando watched her walk back toward the front counter where her son was currently taking orders. “So how’s working at the Rose?”

“It’s great.” She gave him a smile that he didn’t believe for a moment was real. “Business is booming. It’s a wonderful restaurant.”

She cut off a piece of egg with a vicious swipe of her fork. He wondered briefly what the egg had done to deserve it.

After a moment spent stirring his coffee, he looked up at her again. “You know, if this is going to work at all, this finding out about us again, we have to stop lying to each other.” He took a quick sip. “Like with me—I do love my job, I’m not lying about that. But right now I’m walking a tightrope at work and it’s not fun. I’ve been hitting the Faro a little more than I probably should as a result.”