Bab 23: 23. Chapter 23
Rick puts his hands in his pockets and lets Kate do the talking, even though small talk isn't her favorite. He might readily agree that he's charming one of the two of them, but she's the alluring one. And he likes watching her cast those little get over here looks at him, as if she needs him, or at least wants him there.
In her navy sundress that falls to her knees, skimming her hips, clinging a little, she looks nothing like Detective Beckett. Not even Casual Detective Beckett looks like she does now, sun-kissed skin, streaks in her wavy hair, their daughter curled against her shoulder, their son tugging on her hand impatiently. She talks to the woman who has made polite and friendly inquiry over their family, and already a few more church members have drifted over to greet them. Greet her. She's darkly gorgeous this morning.
Castle finds himself collaring his son and turning to shake hands with an older man, dark skin weathered by a lot of sun and salt, and dark eyes regarding him thoughtfully. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Castle shakes his head. "Don't think so. I'm Rick, this is my son, Dash. Dashiell stand still for a minute, son."
"I'm Clayton. Nice to have you folks with us. You just move in, or are you on vacation?"
"Vacation."
Dashiell hangs onto his leg and pipes up, "God doesn't go on vacation!"
The woman talking to Kate breaks off to laugh in their direction; Rick meets Kate's eyes, and they share a smile. He wants to be alone with her in the worst way. Alas.
Clayton releases Rick's hand and bends down to talk to Dash, tapping his nose. "You got that right. But I bet he loves it that you came here while you were on vacation."
Dashiell has lost interest in the deep theological conversation, and he shrugs. "I got to swim in the ocean. The big ocean."
Kate elbows Rick the second he opens his mouth to correct his son. She's the one who's been telling the kids it's an ocean. It's not. It's a gulf, the Gulf of Mexico to be exact, but she narrows her eyes at him and warns him off. Fine. Whatever.
This two-person parenting thing sucks sometimes. She keeps vetoing his best ideas. And his most important guidance - the stuff he is good at. Why doesn't she think it's important to stress exposition? Alexis learned at an early age, and she's definitely the better for it.
Clayton and the woman have both turned to Dash and are listening to his excited story about jumping in the waves and seeing jellyfish, which he thinks is made up. He didn't see jellyfish, but maybe Dash and Kate did? He turns to her, lifts an eyebrow, and she shakes her head, shifting Ellery and shaking out her arm.
Okay, made up story. See? This is why he should be stressing exposition. Sigh.
"Take her, will ya?" Kate says, turning and offering Ellery up to him.
He lifts Ella off of her mother and smooths down her sundress, red with small white polka dots, the straps tied into bows at her shoulder blades. Ella lifts her head and eyes him sleepily, then presses her face into his neck and sighs back to sleep, halfway kissing him.
He cups his hand around her little skull and kisses her back, loving the warm weight of her against him, remembering all over again the story he told Kate last night, the feeling of her so tiny and helpless and already so much a part of him as he handed her over to meet her mother.
He swallows hard and finds Kate at his side, watching their son interact with the two older adults. Her bare shoulders in the dusty light coming in through the lobby windows makes his heart race. He could really go back to the condo and start a whole new record. Really.
"Sounds like you have had a great vacation so far," the woman says, patting Dash's head. Dash looks up at his father with a raised eyebrow, so very Kate that it takes him aback. As if Dash is saying, She just patted my head with exasperation.
Kate takes Dashiell by the hand and glances at Rick with askance. Is his almost overwhelming lust that easy for her to spot? "We just got here, but he's pretty excited."
Clayton puts his hands on his hips and shifts closer to the woman; Rick realizes they must be married. "I swear I've seen you before. Wow. Doppelganger or something."
Well, since he used *that* word, an Edgar Allan Poe word, Castle is tempted to tell them both why he might be familiar. Kate chuckles and nudges his side; he shifts his daughter and glances over at his wife. He wants this vacation to be stress-free for her, and getting recognized twice now isn't exactly what he had in mind. Seriously, people in South Padre read his books? It seems. . .a little much.
In the city, at home, he might take this opportunity to gloat. She's always telling him he's a legend in his own mind, has even played that *song* for him, but look at him now. Two different couples in this one small town in Texas.
Dashiell takes the decision right out of his hands though.
"Daddy writes books. He's famous and stuff. He makes monies and buys me dinner and lets us go on vacation. Mommy is a cop; she's got a gun but I can't even *look* at it."
Rick swallows and glances up at the two nice church people, feels Kate laughing against his shoulder. At least she's laughing. Might be saved yet.
"Ah, yeah-" he starts.
"Oh, I knew you were familiar." Clayton rubs his jaw and smiles. "Richard Castle. Right? Evie, this is Richard Castle. I swear. Who'd've thought?"
Rick nods and shakes the man's hand again, like they have to be reintroduced to each other, and feels Kate reach across him and shake as well.
"Kate," she says simply. And her eyes are smiling; they keep sliding over to meet with his.
Clayton nods, his eyebrows raising comically. "Are you. . .I mean, I heard it was you, right? For Nikki Heat?"
"That's me." She brushes her hand lightly against Rick's hip; he feels his whole body tune in to hers. He likes the warm fuzzy station she's broadcasting.
Why is it that whenever she agrees to that, to being Nikki Heat, it sends such a warm rush of adoration through him? As if she's claiming him, and everything that goes along with him, despite the trouble he's been for her, that Nikki Heat has been.
"Well, we're glad to have you," Clayton says. "We're fans of the books of course. Though we check 'em out from the library."
"Oh, but I bought the last one for my ereader," the woman says. Evie, he guesses.
"Hard to sign a digital copy," he shrugs, brushing his hand down Ellery's back, wondering when he got so nervous around fans. Maybe just when his family is around, when his tiny, helpless daughter is in his arms.
At least he knows that Kate can kick ass, should the need arise. He doubts it here, of course, with church people, but it still makes him feel good to have her at his side.
"Daddy, I'm hungry," Dash whines, bouncing on his feet. "I wanna try a shark bob."
Everyone laughs, but Dash is getting that mulish look on his face; he doesn't think it's funny. And they did see a sign advertising shark kabobs at a shrimp festival, so it could be that Dash read the sign.
"Okay, all right. We're headed to lunch," Rick says quickly, shooting Kate a look. She nods.
"Nice meeting you," she says, giving a curl of her fingers in a wave to the couple and taking Dash's hand again.
Evie and Clayton let them go, smiling and waving back, and Castle leads the way out of the community center where the church meets. At his back he can hear Kate quietly talking to Dashiell, keeping him calm. Ellery stirs on his shoulder when he gets to the SUV.
As Kate hands Dash up into his seat, straps him in, Castle buckles in Ella and brushes the hair back from her sleepy face.
"Ready for lunch, baby girl?"
She opens her eyes and smiles at him, soft and muted with drowsiness. Those blue eyes get him every time.
"Uh-huh." He closes the door, gets in on the passenger side, hands Kate the keys. She starts the ignition and checks her mirrors, then backs out of the parking space.
"Where we going? Condo or some place around here?"
"I want hot sauce," Dash moans from the back. "No more mushy potatoes."
"We have hot sauce at the condo, Dash," he answers, turning his to look at the boy. "We're not talking about going to the Mercantile, so don't get your panties in a wad."
"My panties?" Dash gasps, blinking at him.
Kate laughs and pulls out onto the main drag, leans back to flick a glance in the rear view mirror, probably to look at Dash too after that one. "Don't worry, my little man. We can find hot sauce out here too."
Castle glances down the strip. "We could go back to the condo, feed the baby, let her nap?"
Dash squawks from the back seat, leaning forward, straining against the seat belt. "No nap! I don't wanna-"
"Not talking about you, Dashiell Hammett," Castle growls, staring him down. "Sit back in your seat."
Dash sticks out his bottom lip and sinks back, crossing his arms. He glances over at his sister and his pout deepens, as if she too has conspired against him.
Kate flicks his elbow with her fingers; Castle returns his attention to her. She gives him a look.
"What?" he murmurs.
"Nothing. Just. . .nothing."
Yeah, right. "You want to eat out for lunch or go back and make them something?"
She sighs and shakes her head, her hair brushing her shoulders, curling a little around her face with the humidity. "I don't want to make anyone anything. But. . .if you'd rather get the baby to sleep-"
"Naw, Kate," he says, attempting to mend whatever fences he's somehow plowed through. "She'll fall asleep in the car and be fine. We can do something out here."
"Did you. . .have something planned?" she says, risking a quick look at him.
He did, but they can do it later. Tomorrow maybe. Or even an early dinner. It would still work in the late afternoon. Oh, and well, that too. But that can wait till they get back and get the kids settled down for a quick rest time. They'll just turn Dash's television up a little.
"I'm good, Kate. Pick a place."
She sighs; she must be able to tell when he's excited about something and trying to keep it a secret.
"Really. I'm good. It will keep, babe."
She growls at him, dark eyes flashing. Makes him a little hot, and *surely* she knows that by now. "Just for that. Mexican. Loads of hot sauce, Dash." She raises her eyes to the rear view mirror, but Dash is still putting on the fierce frown.
Kate laughs at their son and turns into the next shopping center.
"No sharks here, buddy," Castle says, egging the kid on. He's a bad parent. He loves to mess with Dash. Can't be that bad, can it?
"You're mean," Dash spits out, huffing back into the seat.
Kate and Castle both laugh, sharing a look. He knows that Kate has gotten that one plenty of times from the boy, but this might be the first time for him. "I was being kinda mean."
"You were."
"He deserves it."
"He does."
"I do not!"
"Being a brat, big brother," Kate says, parking in front of the Mexican place.
"Brat *means* brother."
"This time, I mean brat."
"Oooh," Castle calls back, opening his door. "Mommy got you."
"Mommy did not!"
Dashiell's petulance is only funny when Kate is around. When Rick's by himself, it's not so funny.
He opens Ellery's door, discovers her completely conked out in the car seat, face pressed against the side. He reaches in to unfasten the restraints and her warm, sleep-sweaty body rouses a little. Her lips smack.
"Mommy got you," Kate says to Dash, leaning in to kiss his forehead, her hands around his fists, just in case. "Mommy's always got you though, doesn't she?"
Dashiell sighs and slumps forward against her; Kate's not ready for it and grasps him awkwardly, falling into the back of the driver's seat. "You promise there's hot sauce?"
"I. . .think there is."
Castle lifts Ella from the seat and cuddles her against his chest. "If not, kiddo, we'll go get you some. I will. While you wait with Mommy and Ella."
He shuts the door, rounds the SUV to their side, and follows them as they walk towards the restaurant. Kate's dress lifts out from her legs as a breeze plays around them; she scrapes the hair off her face and tosses her head to get it out of her eyes.
Dashiell has her other hand; he skips forward, dragging her a little, and Castle watches the way her arm extends, long and lean and dusted with a little color, absolutely beautiful. He wants to trail his mouth down her arm, pull her hips back into his, feel her breath catch as his hand splays against her ribs.
"Kate," he calls out, watches her turn back to him. He's standing still in the middle of the parking lot, captivated by her.
She lifts an eyebrow in question, Dash still pulling her forward, gestures behind him. "Someone's coming."
He turns and sees the little red sports car heading his way, clutches Ella tighter and walks quickly to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
"What?" she says, waiting for him.
He wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her, deep and thorough and rich, feels her body, sun-warm and responsive against him.
"That," he whispers and breaks away from her all-too-appealing mouth.
"I like that." She grins at him.
"I like hot sauce. Come on," Dash groans. "No more kissy-face. Ellery's wants spinach quesadillas, but I don't. I want a huge, HUGE burrito. Hurry, Mommy. Daddy, let Mommy go."
Kate's lips quirk near his, she pushes in for one last kiss, then breaks away from him. "Come on, Daddy. Natives are getting restless."
Status Power Mingguan
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Power 
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