Remember Me: A Second Chance Romance Page 5

  Cate,

  I saved this from your garbage can all those years ago, planning to give it back to you when you expressed regret over its loss. Sadly, that day didn’t come before I moved, and I held onto it ever since. Have no worries, I always kept it hidden from strangers’ eyes, knowing it was far too personal. I just didn’t have the heart to destroy it.

  Levi

  Cate read the note over and over again. He had been so right. She had regretted throwing it out in teen angst. His heart swelled at his thoughtfulness in keeping her emotions hidden from the world the way he had, especially knowing his love of art. This had been her most personal piece. She flipped the paper over, hoping for a phone number. Finding none, she emptied out the packing paper, unfolding it gently, looking for a number hidden somewhere, anywhere. Her last hope was the box, but it, too, held nothing. Maybe she had truly had ruined her chances the night before.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Cate opened up her laptop and searched for the number for Stark Enterprises and dialed. After multiple prompts, she saw the fruitlessness of her effort. Her best hope would be to get to Amelia’s desk and leave a message, if only she knew her last name to “dial the first four letters” of. Giving up, she used her favorite “I can’t figure out the prompts” technique and dialed zero. Shockingly, it began to ring and not just go to voice mail.

  “Hello, Stark Enterprises. This is Marv speaking.” The man on the end of the voice didn’t mention an answering service. How odd.

  “Hello, Marv, my name is Cate Rhodes. I was trying to figure out a way to leave Levi Stark a message, but the prompts had me going in circles.” Story of her life, and from the chuckles released over the phone, she was not alone in this. At least they sounded in good fun.

  “I understand, ma’am. They do tend to be convoluted at best. Do you have a pen handy?”

  She scoured quickly, finding one and an envelope. It would have to do.

  “I do.”

  “Call this number in the future.” He recited a phone number slowly.

  “Is it Amelia’s desk line?” A girl could dream.

  “No, ma’am. It’s his personal number.” Not that a girl usually dreamed that big. His personal number. This had to be a set-up or a pissed-off employee.

  “Are you supposed to be giving that out?”

  “Only to you, ma’am.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t ruined all things. Levi did this. For her. “I’m security. I was only supposed to answer if it showed as your name. The rest go to voicemail.”

  Levi had set up an entire contingency plan, just on the off chance she might call. It was the stuff of sappy romance movies, yet somehow, it was her life. Hope welled within her. Maybe, just maybe, they were in the right place at the right time.

  “Levi is very thorough,” Cate added, not knowing what else to say. Thanking him with tears of joy just didn’t seem right.

  “That he is, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Marv.” Cate was proud of herself for refraining from gushing and promising him all the cookies.

  “Welcome, ma’am.” His voice cracked slightly, and Cate knew a but was coming. “And ma’am, if you don’t mind me speaking freely.”

  “Not at all.” By which she meant Tell me all things.

  “He’s a good man, and he doesn’t do this kind of thing. Ever.”

  She didn’t care if she promised or not. Marv was getting cookies. All the cookies.

  “Thank you for that.” She swallowed, holding back happy tears. Levi still wanted her. They were going to do this. At least, if she managed to refrain from messing up again like a ginormous chicken head. “I needed it.”

  “The quiver in your voice told me as much, ma’am. And ma’am…” Marv was more perceptive than she gave him credit for. He was probably amazing at his job because of it.

  “Yes?”

  “You have raised a very strong and kind daughter. She treats my department with the same respect as everyone on the top floor.” And the dam of happy tears broke. Nothing made a mother happier than hearing their child was a good person. Nothing.

  “Thank you. I’m very proud of her. Good night.” She rushed her words, the emotion too heady for a phone call with a virtual stranger.

  “Good night, ma’am.”

  Chapter 7

  Before nerves could settle in and grow roots, Cate dialed the number. One ring later and the phone clicked over. Thinking she was getting voice mail, Cate almost hung up until it began to ring again.

  “Hello.” And somehow, his voice got sexier. She was so completely in love with this man, a man she barely knew anymore. Something she planned to rectify.

  “Hi. Thank you for my painting.” Lame. Of all the things to say, she went with formal and expected.

  “I hoped you wouldn’t be mad.” The insecurity in his voice warmed her heart. She could see where he was coming from. He had something so personal of hers that she hadn’t given him. To her, it showed love, but to many, it would be an invasion.

  “I was beyond touched.” Those words didn’t encompass what she wanted to say, but they were the best she could do without allowing her emotions to entirely take over. “You were right. I did regret it.”

  “I have to confess that I have other pieces of yours.” And now he was just being adorable.

  “How did you manage that?” She had already seen them. No point being coy, but information seeking? She was all about that. Her painting was next to a flipping Rembrandt. She was never going to get over that one.

  “Serendipity, I suppose.” Serendipity. She had to chuckle. When she first learned that term, they had just started dating, and she used it every chance she could in an effort to show off her smarts. At least that was her plan at the time. Now, she just saw it as the youthful silliness that it was. He remembered. Why did that make her so squishy in the heart?

  “I was at an antique/junk store killing time between business meetings when I was in Chicago, and there they were. I immediately knew they were yours. One is the one you did after signing up for your SAT, and the other was the one you did after we took our relationship to a different level.”

  She blushed at his admission. He wasn’t wrong at her muse for either of them. It was touching that he remembered the SAT one. People didn’t forget their first time, so while the SAT connection was nice, it somehow meant a little bit less than the first. Of all the paintings for him to find. Hers.

  “You always had a smooth tongue.” She had to give it to him. He still knew how to make her blush. “You mean after we did it,” she added for humor and to break the incredible intoxication she was feeling over his confession.

  “And you were always blunt.” His deep laughter filled her ears. She needed to record it for later. That laugh always could give her a sense of comfort.

  “I can’t believe you put the painting I made about us losing our virginity next to a Rembrandt. Have you no respect?” she bantered back, accidentally giving away more than she had intended. She plopped into her armchair, hoping the conversation would be long enough for her to need the comfy place to sit.

  “You knew I had them.”

  “Not until tonight. I met with Susan.” She held her breath, his opinion on her meeting meaning more to her than she cared to admit, even to herself.

  “And she recognized your work,” he concluded.

  “She did. Says you won’t sell them.” She so desperately wanted to ask why. They were untrained, teen hormone-induced at best. Her work had gotten so much better over time. Not as emotional, for teens owned that, but technique-wise, certainly.

  “I won’t.”

  She couldn’t let him get away with his non-answer. He was in the business of making money. Lots of money. He had pieces in his collection museums had wet dreams about. It was a no-brainer to sell her pieces.

  “The deflowering on display I understand, but why keep the ‘I’m so nervous for my SAT’ vent?”

  “Bec
ause it was a part of you. All of your paintings were. It was why they were so powerful. So brave.” It was a good thing she had been sitting down, for her knees surely would’ve given way at his declaration.

  “It isn’t like anyone who sees the painting knows what they mean.” But he did. He knew and revered it. She couldn’t wrap her head around that one, not one bit.

  “You’d never guess how many people ask me about when I lost my virginity after seeing the painting.” Cate could picture the sexy wink she was sure accompanied his joke. Good old Levi always knew how to get her smiling.

  “I’m sure.” Cate pulled her knees up, hugging them with one arm and perching her head on them. It blew her mind how quickly they fell back into the comfortable banter of their youth.

  “They really are brave and powerful and honest and… you.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you appreciate them.” Her heart was beating in her chest so loudly she was pretty confident Levi could hear through it the phone. His words touched her so deeply, she quickly moved to change the subject without being too obvious. He would know, though. Levi could always read her. “Susan wants to show me.”

  “I want first dibs.” Part of his words was to let Cate know he was letting her change of topic, or at least depth of topic, the other part… Cate bet he truly wanted to buy one, which still boggled her mind.

  “Why?” It was a serious question and not the fishing for compliments he probably got all the time from gorgeous women. “You already have two, and had a third until an hour ago.”

  The doorbell chimed. “Who is it?” Cate called as she made her way out of the chair and toward the door. Chances were it was a pizza for the house around the bend. For some reason they often stopped here first, trusting their GPS a little more than they should. “Can you stay on the line while I check the door?”

  “Absolutely.”

  It wasn’t a pizza. “Why didn’t you say it was you?” She put her hand on her hip in pretend anger as her eyes met his far-too-hot-to-be-legal smile.

  “This was more fun.” He winked, knowing it always caused her to blush. Some things never changed. “Can I come in?”

  “Please.” Cate stepped to the side, gesturing for him to enter and hoping he hadn’t noticed the pleading tone to her response.

  “You asked why I wanted to see the paintings first?”

  It was interesting to her that that was what he took from her question. She was still trying to figure out why he wanted them, and he assumed she questioned his desire to pick first. Maybe it was the art collector in him. Maybe it was the insecure artist in her?

  “I did.” Or at least Cate did now. The other question could wait.

  “Because I’m hoping you did one after our date last night.”

  He was serious. Dead. Serious. How Cate was still standing was beyond her. He brought his wooing skills, to be sure.

  “Date?” Cate’s voice quivered.

  “Yes, date. I paid for dinner and held your hand. Date.”

  She thought giving him a question would give herself a moment to regain her composure. She was so wrong. He had Cate blushing a shade she’d sure rivaled her red pigment in her painting supplies.

  “I did.” Of course she did. “Why do you want to see it?”

  “I want to see if you ran off because I came on too strong, or if your feelings had changed or something else.” Of course. He wanted to see it so he could look into her soul. She already admitted to the painting, so into her soul he would see.

  “You could ask me.” She shrugged, wondering how they had ended up just standing in her entrance way.

  “I still can, but I want to experience it.”

  “Hold on.” Cate scurried out of the room to grab it. There was no point prolonging it, because every second of anticipation, her anxiety grew. What would he think after he saw? Things would change. There was no way they wouldn’t. Was she ready? Not that it mattered. “Here.” Cate held it out to him, not meeting his eyes. The moment too raw. Too real. Too… united.

  “Oh, beautiful, your insecurities are unwarranted.” His voice caressed her as his eyes took in her work. The reverence he gave that piece of canvas was overwhelming. “You’re the only woman I ever truly loved, and all I want is a chance to love you again.”

  A chance to love you again. Just the thought of it warmed Cate in a way she hadn’t felt in decades, actual decades. There was no reason for their time to not be now. Except, of course, the insecurities he so bluntly called her on.

  “You got that from my painting.” It wasn’t a question. She took a bold step forward. In for a penny, they say.

  “And more.” His hand reached out, gently caressing her cheek as if to test the waters. “I see you.”

  “I’m scared.” Cate leaned into his hand, gaining the strength she needed for her confession. Cate was safe with Levi, always had been. He hadn’t broken her heart on purpose. He was young and had to move with his parents. He’d had no choice. He wrote her, the non-delivery of the letters outside of his control.

  “My entire adult life has been about being everything for Jamie, and I forgot how to be anything for myself. That’s why I started painting again. I’m so out of practice on how to do this.” She took the final step to him before leaning into his waiting arms.

  “By this, you mean being with me?” he verified, as if Cate could’ve meant anything else. “I’m equally out of practice.”

  “But what if—” she began, before his finger touched her lips. Cate had spent years living in what ifs, something Levi had always been against.

  “Shhh. Life could easily be clouded by what ifs.” He leaned down, giving a chaste and gentle kiss to her cheek. “Let’s just let our hearts lead us. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Cate agreed, wanting it more than anything. “Are you going to kiss me now?” She parroted the words he used on her before their very first kiss. It had been an awkward moment, neither of them knowing what in heck we were doing, yet it was perfect and magical at the same time.

  “Did you just… never mind.” He shook his head as if to clear it, obviously on the same trip down memory lane that she was.

  When his lips touched hers, Cate melted into him. Slowly, he caressed her lips with his as if relearning their place there. She opened her mouth, giving him a not-so-subtle hint that she wanted more, and he took it. Levi deepened the kiss with each movement before his tongue moved to explore her mouth. Cate was both breathless and boneless when their kiss broke and his forehead settled on hers.

  “Should I leave?”

  Cate knew what he was asking without him being so bold as to ask if sex were on the table, most likely to give Cate a way out without the embarrassment she liked to dwell in.

  Cate wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him in place.

  “Please don’t.” There was no sense hiding her want, her desire. They might not have seen each other in far too many years, but their long-ago connection had never been completely severed. Levi and Cate both could read the need they were feeling.

  “If I stay, I will want to stay all night.” Levi made sure to meet her eyes as he spoke, his hand rubbing the small of her back gently. He wanted there to be no mistake as to what they were about to do.

  “When you stay, I will make you pancakes.” And without giving him a chance to respond, she slipped her hand down to grasp his and led him to her bedroom, a bedroom no man had been invited into. But this wasn’t just any man. This was Levi. Her Levi.

  “This is my room.” She said it like the true dork she was. Of course it was—where else would she be leading him? So instead of continuing and making a fool of herself, she went for broke, throwing herself at him and kissing him with all of the passion she was feeling. Twenty years’ worth of passion for someone she had never got over turned out to be able to make up for her lack of adult time since then.

  As his hand traveled down her back, she heard a telltale sound of her zipper being released, and she knew without a shadow of a
doubt this was right. Perfect, even. Cate took a step back, missing the feel of his warmth, allowing the dress to fall to the ground. No part of her was the young woman he knew. She had years of eating food on a budget, often sacrificing quality for quantity; her breasts had performed their function beautifully for her dear sweet daughter, but looked worse for the wear; and her belly held all the squishiness and stretchmarks a pregnancy can leave.

  When his eyes took her in with her far-less-than-sexy panties and bra, you never would have guessed she was anything less than a knock-out model wearing the finest of lingerie. That was how he saw her, as a beautiful woman, one he wanted to devour.

  Cate reached to unbutton his shirt, cussing the buttons as she went. After Cate conquered all but three of them, Levi relieved her frustration by pulling his shirt over his head. My goodness, time had done well by him. Her fingers reached out of their own accord, tracing the lines on his abs, his chest.

  “You are so beautiful.” The awe in his voice almost too much to handle, the emotion overwhelming.

  He reached behind her, releasing the clasp of her bra, her breath hitching as it barely fell to her elbow before his lips found Cate’s breasts. Licking, nipping, sucking. It was so much, her knees almost gave way.

  “I’ve got you,” he mumbled against her breast before scooping her into his arms, as if she weighed nothing, and brought her to the bed, gently laying her down before going back to work on her breasts.

  She was pretty much panting at that point, yet couldn’t find a tiny bit of her to be embarrassed. This was Levi. Her Levi. As scared as Cate had been earlier, he had called it what it was, insecurity, and that had no place between them. He moved back up, kissing the entire path before his lips found hers again and Cate got lost in them. They stayed like that, making out like teenagers—okay, half-naked teenagers—until she couldn’t wait another moment. She needed more, and from the feel of his erection pressing against her core through his pants, he did also.