“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a big boy, and I can handle a little gossip.” His hand rested beside hers on the wooden table. Not touching, but so close. “No one is going to figure out it was you.”
“Which is great. Right?” Then why did she feel so disappointed? Did she really want to shoehorn herself into Trent’s life? Or had a part of her expected Trent to make a public announcement, proclaiming her Girlfriend of the Year? Yet another fictional idea that was never going to be truth.
“I think so,” Trent said. “Sarah says all PR is good PR, and if people are talking about the photo, it might bump up sales of the book.”
“Because people will think the book will have the story exposing the truth about the woman behind the boot?” Kate laughed and sipped at her tea. “Do they think you’re going to spill some kind of state secret?”
Trent broke off a piece of her cookie and popped it in his mouth. Just like old times, sharing a meal without a word. “They’re going to be mighty disappointed if so.”
Kate stared down into her teacup, swirling the remaining brew in a slow circle. She was not disappointed that he had just said he wasn’t going to publicly claim her as his. Nope, not disappointed at all. “Speaking of state secrets, how about we take a drive up to see your parents tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, right?”
She grinned. “All day.”
A smile flickered on his face, and once again, another thread from the past tightened between them. “You’re still using that joke?”
“Hey, if a bad joke works, I hold onto it as long as possible.” She shut the lid of her laptop and pushed it aside, then crossed her hands on the table and leaned toward him. “We have two and a half weeks, Trent. I only have about half of the book done. I need a lot more material to fill it out, plus the time to write the words. So yes, tomorrow, if possible. I tried asking you questions on the hike and in person, and you were…well, vague and not very helpful. Your past is part of your present. Your parents and sister might have some pictures and memories—”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I haven’t seen my family in a long time.”
“All the more reason for a visit.” She brushed the edge of her hand against his, a featherlight touch, but it sent off sparks inside her. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last few years, it’s that not every life is long. Visit and enjoy the people who love you as often as possible.”
“You’re right.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “But tomorrow? That’s a work day.”
Who was this guy who put work ahead of everything else? In college, Trent had been about the adventures, and everything else—including Kate—came second. “Maybe you should take a day off, Trent. Play some hooky. You did, after all, work on Saturday and technically all Sunday morning.”
He stole another bite of cookie. “Isn’t driving up to Hudson Falls to see my parents another kind of working?”
“Not if your mom makes her apple cobbler.” Kate shot him a grin. “Then it’s just dessert.”
He sat back in the chair. “Okay. You sold me with the apple cobbler. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eleven if that works? We’ll grab some lunch on the way and have dessert with my parents.”
The whole thing could have been a date, under different circumstances. Trent bringing her home to meet his parents, stopping for a romantic lunch at some roadside café…
She shook off the illusion. “Sounds perfect. If you’re driving, I can take notes and—”
He scoffed. “Do you ever take a break, Kate?”
“Pot, meet kettle.” She grinned. “Besides, I can’t, not when I’m on deadline and working with a difficult subject.”
“Me? Difficult? You must have me confused with a certain race car driver. I’m easy, flexible. Some even say nice.” He got to his feet. A smile toyed with the edges of his mouth. She liked Trent’s smile. Liked it a lot. “See you tomorrow, KitKat.”
She nodded and watched him leave the way he’d come, ducking into the hood of his jacket as he set out in the rain. I’m looking forward to it. More than I should.
A few minutes later, Kate was sitting in Angie’s office. The rain had stopped, and the sun was pushing its way through the gray clouds. She’d taken the time to walk to Angie’s office, enjoying a second cup of tea on the way. A little trill of excitement ran through her at the thought of spending the entire day with Trent tomorrow. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t enjoy her company and maybe, just maybe, Grandma was right about Trent and he just needed a little more patience, care, and attention to shift that interest in action.
Or maybe she really should switch to writing fiction. Getting involved with the man who’d broken her heart was not a smart decision. Only a fool went back for the same heartbreak a second time.
“So, how’s the book going?” Angie said as soon as Kate stepped inside the room. Today, Angie’s hair was a bright emerald green, the perfect complement to her black oversized T-shirt and leggings.
Kate settled into a chair opposite her agent and set her bag on the floor. “Great!”
“Wow. That’s an enthusiastic response.” Angie’s chair squeaked as she tipped it back and rested her boots on the edge of her desk. “I thought you were having trouble with the whole past-relationship part.”
Kate shrugged as if that wasn’t an issue, and she hadn’t thought about it, oh, a thousand times in the last couple of weeks. “Not really.”
“And this whole Instagram rumor mill about the picture? Trent wasn’t mad about that? Or worried your identity would be exposed?”
“It’s just a boot, Angie. I’m sure no one will figure it out.” Kate pulled out her notebook and a pen, in case Angie had any last-minute changes from the publisher. “I’m not going to say that us having a past together isn’t a factor at all, but…we’ve spent a lot of time together, and he’s opening up more every day, and he trusts me. That’s why he’s not worried about the photo. I’m about halfway done, and tomorrow we are going up to spend the day with his family.”
“Sounds…almost romantic.”
“Oh, it’s not. Not really.” Kate fiddled with the pen. It was far easier to do that than face the fact that the whole day was only a romance in Kate’s mind. Hadn’t Trent made it clear a dozen times that this was all business? “You said in your text that you also had the cover mockups?”
Angie nodded. “You’re going to love them.” She pulled up the files on her tablet, then turned the machine to face Kate. Trent’s face dominated the cover. A ridge of mountains lay in the background, and a pair of hiking boots anchored the bottom corner. Beneath the words Be True to Your Nature, the words by Trent MacMillan stared back at Kate. “This publisher does a lot of memoirs. They said if you did a good job on this—and I have no doubt you will, because everything you write is fantastic—there are several others in the pipeline.”