Wanted Distraction(26)

When we were at Kenny Donaldson’s Christmas party, you had on a red dress and a diamond necklace your mom had given you as a stocking stuffer. You had no idea you were standing so close to the mistletoe, and I wanted to kiss you. I would have had a good excuse, but you moved away too quickly, foiling my chance.

The Valentine’s issue of our paper contained song dedications, and I had anonymously dedicated one to you. You thought the dedication had come from Mike Linley, and so you said yes when he asked you to prom. I had wanted to ask you myself, but I always thought I overwhelmed you with my size.

For the Spring Fling celebration, I tried to tell you I’d been nuts about you since the day I’d walked into the newsroom, but you were the belle of that ball when our classmates nominated you Garden Pixie, or some such thing.

“Fairy,” I whispered as tears stung my eyes and my chest tightened. “They nominated me Garden Fairy.”

After reaching for a tissue in my bag, I continued reading.

You won and that meant you spent the entire evening with your royalty court. I never got the chance to dance with you that night.

Then our prom came along and you were still going with Mike. I went stag for one very good reason—hope. I knew Mike was a player, and I wanted to be at the dance to pick up the pieces if he ruined your evening. It didn’t happen until the end of prom, and I’ve always hated that I was right about him, because he hurt you. But I was grateful to get one dance with you. And one kiss. You disappeared so quickly, though, I couldn’t offer you a ride home. I thought I’d made a terrible mistake, and that kiss had been unwanted.

Can you see how much I remember about you, even ten years later? I never stopped thinking about you. I can even tell you exactly what you wore to prom. I can tell you how you looked on our graduation day. I remember it all.

What I’ve never been able to tell you is how much I have always respected and cared about you. Working with you on the paper helped me to see so many sides of you, Cherish. I loved each one from the beginning.

Now, you’ve come back into my life and I’ve—

I heard his footsteps on the patio. Pressing the sheet of paper to my chest, I stared up at Carter with misty eyes. “I’m not done. What are you trying to tell me in this letter?”

“Finish reading it.”

I shook my head. “I want to hear it in person. Straight from you.”

He took the chair across from me and leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. His gaze locked with my watery one.

“Forget everything I said the other night about you being a distraction,” he said. “It occurred to me that I’ve always thought of you. You’ve always been on my mind and you’ve never been a distraction. You’ve been sort of a beacon. A dream to follow. And when the opportunity to play in Arizona game up, I realized I’d never given up on that dream. When we made love, I knew the dream was one I had to keep chasing. No matter what.”

My heart melted. More tears crested the rims of my eyes. But I needed to be sure of what he was saying, what he was doing.

“I don’t want to cause you any trou—”

“You’re not going to,” he was quick to say. “Didn’t you see how I played tonight, knowing you were in the stands watching me? I can do that every week until the season is over, Cherish. I know it. What I can’t do is let you slip through my fingers one more time.”

“But—”

“Cherish,” he said, his eyes filled with emotion. “I love you. That’s what I’m saying.”

I gasped. Of all the fantasies I’d had of Carter, I’d never allowed myself to pretend he felt that way—or that someday he’d say those words to me. It had been too far a stretch. Until now.

“We’re meant for each other,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And you know it.”

I nodded, and managed to smile through my tears. “Yes. I do.”

He was out of his seat in the next instant. He pulled me from mine and wrapped his arms around me. “We’ll make this work.”

“After all this time… Those words are music to my ears.”

His look was a contemplative one as he said, “Maybe we had to grow individually before we could be together. We both had different goals when we were younger, but you know what? My career will end eventually—sooner than I’d like, but I can’t ignore that fact. What will be my next professional undertaking? Journalism, I hope. It’s a skill you helped me hone. And it’s something we’ll always have in common.”

“Maybe we could be jet-setting travel writers.”