“I know. But I’ve always felt strongly about him. It’s relentless.”
“And how does he feel about you?”
One of the last things he’d said to me sprang to mind.
Cherish, I’ve always wanted you. It’s always been you…
A fresh batch of tears filled my eyes. “He wants me,” I told her.
“Well, then,” my mother said in her sweet voice. “Problem solved.”
I groaned. “It’s not that easy.”
“Why not?” she asked. “If your father and I had truly been meant for each other, I would have supported his constant job-hopping and professional bumbling, and he wouldn’t have minded my eclectic style. The truth is, we were very good friends who had a child together. That first experience with Charlie went pretty well, so we decided to get married and have another baby, Christian. And then another. We could agree on how to raise you and your brothers, but that was all we really had in common.”
I thought of how my parents had treated each other, with kindness and respect. But there’d never been anything electric between them.
Venturing into unchartered territory, I asked, “Did you and Daddy even sleep together after I was conceived?”
“We shared the same bed, but that was the extent of it. There was no passion between us. I eventually realized that was something I wanted, and so did your father. Our divorce was an amiable one. We both knew we wanted more.”
My mom had actually met a great man several years ago whom she was hopelessly devoted to—and vice versa—though he was a commercial airline pilot, so he wasn’t around as much as she would like. Yet she was willing to suffer through his absence because she loved him so much. Lesson learned.
Now it was my turn to suck it up. “I can’t imagine wanting more than Carter,” I mumbled.
“Then why are you here, dear?” she asked with a motherly smile.
I finished my beverage and set my glass on the table. I reached for a Madeline and took a bite out of it as I contemplated my predicament. Then I said, “I told Carter I wanted to be supportive, not detrimental when it came to his career. It wouldn’t be easy to be with him during the most difficult and pivotal point of his life. But on the other hand, what if being there for him actually helps, not hinders him?”
“It all depends on how unwavering your love is, Cherish.”
I polished off the Madeline and wiped my hands with a napkin. Then I said, “Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Mom. I needed a different perspective.”
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re a good girl, mon petit chou. I want you to be happy. And if Carter Davis is the man for you, then don’t let him slip away.”
Advice I seriously needed to consider.
Chapter Four
Saturday night eventually rolled around. The week had seemed to drag by in slow motion. I couldn’t get motivated to do much more than scribble down a few story ideas as I scoured the Internet and newspaper for events or grand openings to cover. Even my ear-to-the-ground contacts couldn’t come up with anything to stir my interest.
I hadn’t spoken with Carter, nor had I read his letter. I wanted to let the night I’d spent with him, the things we’d said, and the pearls of wisdom my mother had imparted percolate in my head before I made any hasty decisions. Of course, it was altogether possible I didn’t have a decision to make. For all I knew, Carter could have written me to tell me I’d been right to leave his hotel room after we’d made love. That I’d been right to not pursue more with him.
It didn’t feel right to me, though. That was the bottom line. My heart and body ached for him. My very soul ached for him, it seemed. I couldn’t get his sexy smile and warm eyes out of my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at me, or the way he’d touched me. There had been an undeniable and captivating dynamic between us right off the bat. That unto itself held its own significance.
So when Taylor and I arrived at the US Airways Center for Carter’s first game with the Rattlers, my insides buzzed with excitement and nervous energy.
We had seats on the fifty-yard line, in the first row. I barely said a word to my friend as my anxiety mounted. The crowd of about seventy-five-hundred went wild when Fang rode in on his badass motorcycle. The Rattlers’ mascot, Stryker, and the Sidewinders Dance Team joined him. The pyrotechnics lit the field as a Van Halen song rocked the arena. I hadn’t been to this type of football game in years, and realized I’d missed the energetic and exhilarating vibe.
When the first quarter got underway, I clutched my purse tightly in my lap as I watched Carter, trying to see if he was having any trouble with his throwing arm. The best I could tell, however, was that he still delivered a strong and steady bullet into the hands of his receivers.