Chương 29: 29. Chapter 29
While Kate slips into the master bathroom to wash her face and get ready for bed, Castle hangs out in the doorway to their room, watching Dashiell video chat with Alexis. His son is lying on his stomach, hands propping up his head, his feet swinging in the air. Castle can't see Alexis from here, but he can see the animation on Dash's face, and the way he listens to his older sister intently before talking back.
He misses his daughter, and at these times, he misses her fiercely. But she's doing what she loves with Youth Villages, getting her Ph.D. in clinical social work in Chicago, and living with a group of really great girls in a house they rent near campus.
When Ashley and Alexis broke up for good about three years ago, Castle was on a book tour on the West Coast. Kate was six months pregnant with Ellery, but she took the first flight to Chicago and stayed with Alexis all weekend. Dashiell got to spend time with Papa - Castle got daily skypes in which Dash oohed and awed over the fish he caught or the tree fort he and Papa were building.
Castle still has no idea what Alexis and Kate did all weekend, except eat a lot of ice cream (and Alexis had raw cookie dough, she told him once, which Kate couldn't eat and whined about. Kate whining about anything? Impossible. Still, he believes his daughter wasn't exaggerating.) At first, Castle spent every free moment texting or calling Kate for updates, wishing he could drop everything and go to his daughter. But by Saturday afternoon, he knew that Alexis was being loved on by his wife, and doing a better job of it than Castle could.
There was Kate, six months pregnant with their *second* child, and it just then occurred to him that she was a good mother. A great mother. Of course, it wasn't like he ever doubted that, but there was always the faint sense that anyone was better than his own mother, despite how much he loved Martha Rogers, and that having two parents was always superior to having one flighty parent.
That was the first time Castle had seen Alexis and Kate together and realized that it was better for Alexis to have only Kate that weekend, her stepmother and friend and *mother* all rolled into one, rather than have him. Or both of them. That there were things only a mother like Kate would be able to give Alexis. Not just any mother, but a mother like Kate. With her ability to cut through the nonsense and state things clearly, her ability to comfort without pity, and her experience with difficult relationships.
This mysterious girls' weekend was also the time when the nickname Allie started getting used more frequently by Kate as a way to tease Alexis. And then when Ellery came along and couldn't pronounce Alexis either (like Dash in the beginning), Ella picked up on Allie and it's stuck.
Dashiell, in a fit of stubbornness and probably attention-seeking as well, will cling to calling his older sister Issis or Isis, depending on his mood. But even Dash will call her Allie now. Her boyfriend Mike calls her Allie as well, and often Allie Cat, which Castle really hates, but Alexis blushes like a little girl over it. Ug. Mike. He's not a fan. Well, okay, not true. Castle does kinda like the guy despite his natural tendency to see Alexis as the same age as Ellery these days.
It's just that. . .Mike is 28 and Alexis is only just 24, and seriously, *Kate* was only 29 when Castle met her and the thought that Mike was the same age (or nearly) as Kate was when they met and he wanted to-
Yeah, no. No. Don't think about it. (Oh, jeez, that means Kate is 36, will be 37 next month. When did that happen?)
Which means Alexis is an adult. A grown-up woman who works with troubled teenagers and at-risk kids in Chicago, in some of the dirtiest, poorest, dangerous neighborhoods. Kate gave her basic self-defense training when she first started her social work volunteer jobs, then had Alexis attend a year's worth of judo classes before Kate was okay with letting Alexis out there. Honestly, Kate was more freaked out about Alexis's safety than Castle himself.
Could be because Alexis's first volunteer job was in Washington Heights, and everyone knows how Kate feels about that area of the city.
On the bed, Dashiell swings his feet down and gets up on his knees, showing Alexis something to do with his pajama pants, which are orange with black spider webs all over them. He must be talking about Halloween.
Kate comes out of the bathroom and stops by the bed, leaning over with her hands balanced against the mattress to kiss Dash's head and say something to Alexis. Castle can't hear what from this distance, but Kate straightens up and comes to him at the doorway.
"Hey stud, why you over here alone?"
"Just watching Dash flirt with his first crush."
"Ew. His sister."
"My bad, his second crush. You were the first woman he fell in love with."
She rolls her eyes at him and takes him by the hips, pushes him backward out into the living room. "I thought you were going for a run."
"I was. Am. I am. Got distracted by the cute if annoying kid in our bed."
"Go change, Castle. I'm gonna read." She does her cute little happy dance, the one where she wriggles her shoulders and her smile gets all cocky and clever. He has to kiss her mouth for that, tasting her toothpaste and the texture of her tongue before letting her go.
"What are you reading?" he asks, searching for his running shoes. They're somewhere in the living room; he remembers taking them off in here.
"City of Thieves. Almost done."
"Would I like it?"
"Absolutely. It's hilarious and terribly sad. It's like a Catch-22 for World War II. If that makes sense."
"Sure. It's Russian?"
"Author's American, but it's set in St. Petersburg during the Siege of Leningrad. Did you know the German blockade on that city was 871 days? I can't even imagine." She finds one of his shoes under the couch and holds it up.
He takes it from her, sexy-smart and make-up free, ready for bed, excited about a book. "Damn, I love you. Seriously? Historical fiction *and* you just called that Russian city by it's currently correct name. Even though it was Leningrad at the time, and technically, if you're talking about a book, you can go ahead and call it Leningrad since-"
"Shut up, smarty pants," she glares, but leans over to tug him into her for a brutal, sharp kiss. Her teeth are wicked against tongue, so he reaches down to her waist, slips his fingers under her shirt and trails lightly up her sides.
She gasps and draws back; he can see the struggle on her face not to show her reaction. He's found that exact spot only recently, and he doesn't hit it every time. It's like one little patch of skin at her side is extremely sensitive. Not ticklish, but close, and wow, he's made her shout in bed before.
Kate shoves on his chest to get him moving and he stumbles over his missing shoe. "There it is."
"Goofball. Go run. Stop giving me backhanded compliments." She picks up her book from the coffee table, opens it up, then tilts it over to let sand run out of the spine. He laughs and sticks his hand out to catch some.
"Better not be a library book."
She sighs. "I wish it were. It's my own copy. I'm gonna have to give it to you and buy myself a fresh one."
"Yeah, but you've marked it up. I hate that."
Kate settles down into the couch, propping her head up on the arm, crossing her ankles. She thumbs through the beginning chapters, no doubt admiring her yellow-colored-pencil handiwork. She's immediately absorbed in the book.
"I'll take that as my cue." He heads for the bedroom to get his ipod and earbuds, and to change out of his pajama pants and into some running shorts.
Dashiell is still talking to Alexis. Castle leans over and waves, interrupting his son's story for a quick good-bye. Alexis blows him a kiss and Castle presses his fingertips to the screen (or well, almost. He *hates* getting smudges on the screen.)
"Hey, buddy, when Mommy comes in to get you, it's time for bed. Okay?"
"How many minutes?"
He glances at the clock display, meets Alexis's eyes. She nods as if to say she's fine with whatever.
"Thirty more minutes. When it says 8 and 1 and 5 up here. That's 8:15, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy."
Castle ruffles his dark hair and moves to the dresser to look for the running shorts. Kate hates living out of suitcases, so of course Castle unpacked everything for her, but now he can't remember where he threw stuff.
Top drawer was the right guess, so he pulls out a black pair and quickly changes clothes out of sight of the video chat. Dashiell doesn't even seem to notice. Castle rifles through the bedside drawer until he digs out his ipod and earbuds, then comes back into the living room.
"Kate, can't find my running armband-"
"Mine's on the kitchen counter."
"Thanks." He heads to the kitchen, snags hers off the counter and turns it on. He checks her workout playlists but she's got a lot of hard rock songs that he doesn't really love running to. He needs some hip-hop. Castle slides hers out of the case and puts in his own, attaches the earbuds, then straps it on.
"Hey," she calls from the couch. He turns, popping an earbud out. "How far are you going to run?"
"I'm shooting for eight miles, make up for yesterday."
She nods and checks the time. "That should take you. . .just over an hour?"
"Hour twenty. Hour thirty if I can't get into my pace."
Kate gets up from the couch and meets him at the kitchen counter, lifts up on her tiptoes to kiss his mouth, gentle and tender. "Be safe. Don't run on the road."
"Kate."
"At least promise me you'll get *off* the road when a car comes?"
"I can do that."
She sighs at him and pats his chest, moving away again. Castle slips on his shoes, sets up the music, then remembers the bedtime ultimatum. "I told Dash 8:15."
"That was my thinking too," she says, yawning a little as she lays back against the couch.
He blows her a kiss and heads out the door.
The run clears his head, resets his body. It also reminds him that he needs to talk to Kate. The sweat drips from his chin, slicks on his neck, runs down his back. He can smell the heavy scent of his deodorant working overtime, and the musk of an hour in the fading twilight, the warm sand of the island under his shoes.
There were more cars on the road than he expected and so he turned around at mile two, ran back to the condominiums, and spent the rest of his time running the length of the beach. It's closer to 9:15 than he meant to be, but hopefully Kate got so engrossed in her book that she didn't notice.
That seems to be the case when he slips through the front door, dropping the keycard on the entry table and pulling the ipod out of the armband. He wraps the earbuds around the little black thing, drops it next to the keycard, and heads further into the condo.
He puts the running band on the kitchen counter, but he doesn't see her ipod lying around. Castle pulls the bottom of his tshirt up and wipes sweat from his face, the back of his neck. He does a few squats to work the lactic acid out of his quads, bends over to stretch his hamstrings.
When he gets to the living room, Kate's in the same position he left her in, her face a mask of intense absorption, the book resting on her sternum as she reads, her long legs spread out before her.
Castle hauls himself over the back of the couch and drops down on her, knees on either side of her hips, hands bracing on the arm of the couch at either side of her startled face. He manages to block the leg that comes up in self-defense, grinning down at her.
She huffs a laugh and slides her foot back down the couch; he shifts back and settles over her, his chin at her waistband, legs dangling off the end of the couch. Castle slides his hands up under her shirt, baring her stomach, tips his head forehead to press a soft, sweaty kiss to her skin.
She ripples under his mouth; he smooths his thumbs along her ribs, pushing her shirt out of his way, dragging his lower lip in steady climb up. He uses his teeth at her bra, tugging at the material, feeling her hips arch against his chest.
He hears the book drop to the floor, feels her hands graze his scalp and then curl around his skull. Instead of staying there, he can feel her flinch and wipe her hands on the back of his tshirt.
Which isn't any cleaner.
"Gross, you're soaked in sweat," she complains, but she's too breathless for him to take that seriously.
He spreads his fingers over her abdomen, sucks on the skin at her belly button, rewarded with her hips rising up, twice, under him.
She's hitting her pelvis right against his sternum, her thighs parted, her knees under his arms. He licks at the ridge of taut abs at her waistband, slides up to brush his lips on the delicate skin below the cup of her bra. Her hands fist in his tshirt; it tells him it's time to stop.
He pulls back, resting his chin on her pelvis, turning his head quickly to rub his cheek against her skin, a reminder, before nipping at her belly button and using his elbow to lift up off of her.
Her head's thrown back, her chin and throat jutting up. She gulps in air and lowers her head, staring down at him as if thoroughly shocked. Good, he caught her by surprise.
"Don't stop." Her voice breaks, her hands tug at his shoulders.
"I want you to tell me something first," he says.
"That's blackmail," she counters, but her voice lacks any strength, her knees trembling against his sides.
"Katie."
She growls at him and lifts her head. "Don't call me that when I'm in the middle of wanting you."
He did it on purpose.
"My *dad* calls me that," she mutters.
Exactly.
She lifts a hand to her eyes; he slides his palm up to feel her heart racing against her ribs. When her pulse stutters and drops back down into the normal range, Castle leans in and brushes a gentle, light kiss against her lips.
"What's your question?" she murmurs into his mouth, sighing.
"What are you so worked up about, Kate?"
"Don't know what you-"
"Love," he murmurs, nuzzling her cheek, bringing his hands up to cradle her neck, not looking in her eyes. "We spent all day yesterday breaking a land speed record. And yet you *still* want it all the time. Which is flattering, yes. But you always wanna have crazy-hot sex when you're stressed, sweetheart."
"I hate it when you call me those names," she mutters, but her mouth doesn't move away from the slow dance of his lips across hers.
"I call you those names because your irritation gives you clarity."
"Jeez, you're so high-handed. What the hell, Castle-"
But her arms are wrapped around his shoulders and her hands don't push him away and her voice sounds weak and aroused. He's so very close.
"What are you stressed about?"
He knows it's not stress. Stress requires a bubble bath and a good book, stress gets a heavy workout, a couple hours rocking Ellery while she sleeps, the whole family wrestling in the living room floor, a phone call to Lanie that has to be censored from the kids. Stress isn't her telling him not to run on the road like he's five. Stress isn't going at it like her world will end if she can't touch him.
But stress is a nice way of putting it.
Her mouth moves finally, her lips against his neck. "Not right now, Castle. I can't. I don't want it here with me."
"I know you don't. I know. But it's creeping in anyway. Tell me and then we-"
"You know I don't work like that," she sighs. "Just let me, let me - just love me. And it'll work itself out."
"I *do* love you, Kate."
She tilts her head into his, sighs into his mouth, along his nose. "Then don't stop," she moans, lifting her hips into his.
This wasn't how he meant this to go. But he can't refuse her.
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