Mrs. Wyatt just smiled. “I’ll give you the recipe.”
“I’d love that.”
“So would I,” Trevor said, stretching his arm along the back of her chair. “Maybe she’ll make if for me next time I’m in Atlanta.”
JJ didn’t miss the covert glance the other two Wyatt men sent each other. They were curious about her relationship with Trevor, which was only natural.
“JJ’s a bit of an interior decorator, Momma. She and her brother flip houses.”
“Really? I used to watch all those shows, but then the market went caput.”
“I thought you were a journalist,” Marcus said.
JJ bit back a rueful laugh. “I am. Most of the time.”
Trevor explained how she and Greg bought two condos a year and fixed them up in their spare time.
Kyle smacked Marcus on the arm. “We should do that.”
“In this economy?” Mrs. Wyatt said.
“In this city?” Marcus added.
Kyle shrugged. He reminded her of Greg. Young, vivacious.
“Well, if you decide you’re interested, I’d be happy to give you the lowdown on what we’ve learned so you don’t make the same mistakes.”
“You’re on,” Kyle said, looking pleased.
Trevor kept his arm draped along Julia’s chair throughout the meal and tried not to make too big of a deal of the stories his mother and brothers were rehashing for Julia’s amusement. It would only make them dig deeper for more embarrassing tales.
“So what does JJ stand for?” Kyle asked, turning his attention to her.
For work, she went by JJ and Trevor’d often thought it was because Julia sounded so feminine, especially in a male dominated sport.
During her very first interview with him, he’d told her she didn’t look like a JJ. She’d told him her name was Julia and she’d been Julia to him ever since.
“Julia Jane,” she told them, making a disapproving face. His brothers laughed. “I have three brothers and when I was little I wanted to be just like them. Julia was too girly for a tomboy.”
Trevor smiled at her logic.
“Well,” Momma said. “I think Julia fits you.”
“Me too,” Trevor murmured.
“Come on, dear. I’ll show you the photo albums.” His mother pushed away from the table. “You boys clean up.”
The three of them knew better than to complain. It would only lead to bathroom and floor mopping duty. They’d learned that a long, long time ago.
Trevor leaned back in his chair and watched Julia settle onto the couch next to his mother. It didn’t take long for a stack of photo albums as high as his arm was long to appear on the coffee table. The two women dove in together, talking and laughing like old friends.
At that moment Trevor understood why none of the other women he’d ever dated had passed muster. Clarissa had been beautiful and worldly. April, high maintenance and exotic. Shauna, smart with a big mouth and an even bigger opinion of herself. And while all of them had been polite and sophisticated, none of them were down to earth, easy to talk to, and willing to break a nail if it meant winning flag football.
Julia was special, pretty, and perfect for him.
She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and leaned over to look at a picture Momma was pointing to. She smiled and looked up, her gaze colliding with his.
There was something in her eyes that made his chest tighten. He wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he could certainly hope.
“Yo, Mr. Big Time. You gonna help out?” Kyle called from the other end of the kitchen.
Trevor shrugged off the nickname they’d given him the moment he’d been drafted and gathered his plate and glass.
“You’ve got it bad, man,” Marcus said as Trevor joined him at the sink. They fell into the familiar routine: cleaning up, washing dishes, putting away the left overs, if there were any. Over the years as the three of them had grown, there were less and less left overs to put away.
Trevor reached for a sponge and a spray bottle of cleanser.
“Yeah. I know.”
“You know? And you’re not running the other way?” Kyle asked, clearly shocked.
Trevor shrugged. There was no denying his feelings for Julia, at least not around the two people who knew him best. He was prepared to deal with their ribbing. And one day he planned to return the favor.
“Wow.”
From the corner of his eye, Trevor saw Kyle give Marcus a look. They didn’t understand because they weren’t in his shoes. They hadn’t stood in front of Julia for years, answering her questions, asking her out, feeling the sting of rejection when she’d let him down gently. Always gently…with a kind smile and some sort of a self-deprecating tease.
Why hadn’t she ever said yes? Why was she saying yes now? Was it his career? Was it possible that while she enjoyed the sport, she didn’t want to date a baller?
“Earth to Trevor.” Marcus waved a hand in front of his face.
“Man, he really does have it bad. Look at him getting all dreamy eyed,” Kyle said, smacking Marcus on the arm.
“Shut up and get back to work.”
“Defensive too,” Marcus teased.
“He wants to be alone with his fantasy woman,” Kyle said, a wide grin stretching his lips.
“Trust me, the real thing is way better than the fantasy,” Trevor said with a smug look. Way, way better.
“Aww, yeah!” Kyle and Marcus high fived.
“Shut up,” Trevor ground out, putting them both in a headlock. Marcus elbowed him in the ribs and Kyle tried to twist out of his grip. A wrestling session ensued until Momma called from the living room.
“You three quit rough housin’ and get back to work!”
Some things never changed. Kyle was scrappy. Marcus was good lookin’. But as Trevor peeked his head into the living room, he realized that some changes were welcome. And he wanted to see Julia on that couch, head together with his Momma for years to come.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Your family’s great,” JJ said after they'd left his mom's house. “I see a lot of your mom in your brothers. And you all have what I’m now calling
Wyatt charm
.”
Trevor smiled over at her as he drove them back into the heart of the city.
“I want to show you something.”
It was dark out and she was stuffed and tired. Although she really wanted to get to a bed and collapse, she hadn't seen him in so long the greedy side of her wanted to stay up as long as possible, just enjoying his company.
He pulled into an underground parking deck and parked in a reserved space. She didn't recognize the building but noticed extra security measures like key card entry, a security guard and plenty of surveillance cameras.
He got her luggage out of the back along with a Neiman Marcus bag. Was that where he'd been shopping earlier?
“I've never brought a woman here before.”
“Where's here?” She asked as he swiped another key card to open the elevator doors.
“You'll see.”
“Will there be meatballs waiting? Because you spoiled me last time. I've come to expect a certain amount of deliciousness...”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You still have room for meatballs?” he asked as the elevator launched them skyward.
“I'll always have room for Antonio's meatballs.”
“Clearly, I've created a monster.”
She laughed. That was true. “I’d like to meet him sometime…”
He nodded as the elevator stopped. The doors opened, revealing a short hallway with two doors.
He strode to the door on the right, her suitcase in his hand. He made quick work of the lock and held the door open for her.
She stepped into a dimly lit foyer. Dark tile covered the floor. Most of the right wall was covered the trophies and footballs and jerseys. A tremor of excitement shot through her as she stepped to the display case.
“This is your place...”
Why did he keep his Super Bowl rings behind glass?
“I've never brought a woman here before...” The door closed behind him with a thud. He slid an extra bolt home and dropped their bags to the floor.
She turned toward him and understood how profound his statement was; he’d mentioned it twice. As if he needed her to understand that she was special. And trustworthy.
“You said that.”
“I had to be sure...about you. About us...” He took her by the hand and led her deeper inside.
It was a loft. She felt all fluttery as she did any time she saw the beautiful, wide spaces that were so popular these days. Complete with high ceilings painted a charcoal gray, big windows that showed off an incredible view, and exposed brick, it was everything a loft, in her opinion should be. Though looking at the building made her think the brick was applied to give the space an old feel, it still had plenty of industrial charm. The furniture was masculine and neutral, not that she’d expected anything different.
“Sure?” she finally asked, rejoining the conversation.
He led her to the couch and pulled her into his lap. “Very few people know all the details I'm about to tell you.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and stared into his eyes, hoping to convey that he could trust her. But her heart started racing as she soaked in the serious look on his handsome face.
“Two and a half years ago I started getting letters...not the normal kind of fan mail but from a stalker.”
JJ gasped.
“It wasn't the first time, but in the past, the person stopped after a few creepy months. This person didn't. The letters grew more and more graphic. The tone was obsessive like you can't imagine. They knew details—” he paused and licked his lips.
“The stalker knew details, intimate details. It was obvious that they were going through my trash. Can you believe that?” He grunted.
“That's sick,” she agreed.
“The cops said they couldn't do anything as no one had been injured. They've obviously never been stalked. Never felt like they were being watched all the damn time. Like there was a crazy person out there waiting for them. Public appearances were hell. The letters kept coming, getting more and more graphic and more and more violent.”
A tremor shook his body and she ached for him. For what he'd had to endure and for being brave enough to tell her the truth even though the memories were obviously costing him.
“We were pretty sure it was a woman. She'd say things like she couldn't wait until we were together and why didn't I write her back. If I didn't write her back she was going to hurt herself. She knew we were supposed to be together. All...stereotypical stalker bullshit.”
She felt his anger growing, because it was obvious that person had stolen his security and peace of mind. And that the memories still haunted him. There was a responding anger in her chest and it was all she could do to stay seated, to let him finish. She'd never in her wildest dreams imagined that Trevor, her sweet, handsome, thoughtful lover would have experienced something so...frightening.
But his tone said it all. And the way his eyes stared right into hers but grew more and more unseeing. More distant by the second.
“Somehow she got my number and the calls started. I got my number changed immediately. But the letters kept coming. And then emails. It was like a fucking nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.” His voice was almost hoarse with pain and disbelief. She tightened her grip around his neck as tears wet her eyes.
He took a deep breath and seemed to come out of the trance. After wiping a palm against his jeans he continued. “The guys downstairs started opening my mail for me and turning things over to the police. I hired a bodyguard for a while. One day she sent me a note about my mom.”
“Ohmygod.” She cupped his cheek in her hand.
He grunted again. “You can imagine how furious I was. I convinced her to come stay with me for a while, which she loved and resented at the same time. Eventually I had the security in her house fixed up and hired a guard to stay with her there. But by then the damage was done to my relationship at the time. After I stopped seeing Hailee the next letter declared victory.” She saw the play of the muscle in his cheek as he ground his jaws together. He let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “The bitch wanted me all to herself.”
JJ’s mind ran away with her; imagining the worst case scenario. Sweat crept across the back of her neck. Never had she experienced such a strong desire to do another person harm, but the idea that anyone would torment this man, threaten his sweet momma… She took a deep breath to calm herself.
When that didn’t work, she took another.
“And then the letters stopped. For a month. A month and a half. Nothing.” He glanced up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before continuing. “I'd grown so used to looking over my shoulder I was a basket case. There was a party out in the Hamptons and Carson invited me to go with him. He knew about the stalker and how desperate I was to join the living again. To relax. I needed a break, to get away.”
“Understandably!”
“I had six beers and a shot of whiskey.”
He looked out the window, his gaze far off.
“Carson's sister Stephanie came with us and at some point Carson hooked up with a girl. I was tired by that point and ready to go to bed so he gave us the key to his house and sent us on our way. I wasn't shitfaced, but I wasn't in any condition to drive either so I handed my car keys to Stephanie.”
JJ's heart was in her throat. He remained silent for a long time and she knew what he was going to say. They'd gotten into an accident that stole his career the same way the stalker had stolen his sanity.
“She got behind the wheel and we started talking. I was still so relieved that the letters had stopped, that I could hang out with my friends again. I laughed for the first time in months. I was happy...mellowed by the alcohol. I felt like I could finally breathe again.”
He smiled at the memory and JJ’s heart broke for him.
“It was just about that time when I realized that she was talking to me about things she had no way of knowing. Private things. Intimate details... just like the letters. And we had been driving for a long time. A lot longer than the few miles it should have taken to get to Carson's house. Long Island is huge and I had no idea where we were. Panic started setting in and she told me how happy she was that we were finally alone. That I'd finally come to my senses. I was sobering up fast. For the record, crazy stalker bitches work much faster than coffee.”