Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (10 page)

Brody gave a nod. His eyes studied her, but the blank expression didn’t change.

“Mom!” Becca squealed the instant Cat answered.

Both nerves and anger disappeared that fast. Her kids always made it better. “Hey, Becca. What are you doing, sweetheart? Did you have a good day at the beach?”

They’d worn their grandparents out at Disney World the previous week and had moved into the Carltons’ condo the day before. The next few days would be all about seeing how much sun they could soak up and how much sand they could track inside. Cat had offered to pay their part-time nanny to go with them to help her in-laws, but Colette and Francis would have none of it. They’d wanted this time with their grandkids to themselves.

It helped Cat not to miss them so much, knowing they were having such a great time.

“That’s not why I called, Mom. This is your big day. Are you excited?”

“I am. I feel like a star.”

“You are a star, Mom.” Becca’s words gushed out of her. “And I’ll bet you’re
beautiful
in your costume.”

Her daughter was the one who should be onstage.
She
was the drama queen.

Cat could hear someone talking in the background before Becca returned to the conversation. “Grandma says it’s time for you to take the stage,” she explained in a somewhat calmer voice, as if she were working hard to force control, “so I’m hanging up now. But I just wanted to say I love you, Mom.”

Another tear appeared and stuck in Cat’s fake lashes. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

She got off the phone, a smile lingering on her face, and once again took in Brody.

“Your kids?”

She nodded, a lump in her throat. “My daughter. Becca’s excited for me.”

Then she reached for the flowers and buried her nose in their scent. Gratitude suddenly engulfed her, making her chest feel too small to hold it all in. For her kids. They were the best part of her life. And for the chance to be in this play. It gave her an excitement unlike any she’d had in years.

But also for Brody. It was nice to have him around again.

He stepped in front of her then, blocking out visibility to anyone else standing in the vicinity, and slipped her hand in his. “Any chance you’ve forgiven me yet?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed. “For what?”

But she knew for what. And it was cruel to make him say it. He’d already apologized Friday night on the way back to her car. He felt bad about putting the sanctity of his car above sex with her.

He didn’t reply now. He merely angled his head at her and gave her a look.

She fought the smile but lost, so she pulled in another deep whiff of the flowers. But when she peered back up, she sensed a heartfelt concern coming from him. He really did feel bad.

“I forgave you the other night,” she told him.

“No you didn’t.” His words sent a shiver down her spine. “You pretended to, but you were offended.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted with, “Acceptance is not forgiveness.”

The director called out that they were live in five, so Cat made a quick decision. If Brody wanted to bring it up again, then fine, she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. She’d tried to play nice, to be polite. But if he wanted to hear the truth, she’d tell him. She leaned in and spoke softly. “I offered you sex, Brody Hollister. Free sex. No strings. And you had to
think about it
. Because of a car!”

A deep red brushed his neck and cheeks. “I’m an idiot. Make the offer again. I swear I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

She eyed him shrewdly. “In the car?” Dang, he did bring out the boldness in her.

“Wherever you want.”

He seemed sincere. And a little desperate. It almost made her smile.

And then something occurred to her. “You have a blanket in your car now, don’t you?”

The flush deepened, and she had her answer.

“Oh, my God.” She made a face at him. “You’re unbelievable.” She thrust the roses at him. “Hold these for me. I have a play to get through.”

She turned and headed to the stage, only then realizing she’d lost the anxiety that had been tying her up in knots all day. Well, most of it.

She also realized something else.

If Brody pushed much more, she was going to say yes.

To his car, his house, her house, or the danged beach.

Wherever she could get him.

Only, out of the reach of nosy photographers.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HE CROWD ROARED
as Brody sat in the audience cringing at what Cat was doing to his play. She had changed so many of his lines he was no longer sure what was his and what wasn’t.

To be fair, he didn’t think she’d changed them so much as forgotten them. He’d seen her go deer-in-headlights about halfway through the first act, and the next thing he knew she’d come out with a line he’d never thought of. The guy sitting next to him had almost fallen out of his seat with laughter.

And not because he’d thought she’d messed up.

The guy had loved it. Everyone seemed to be loving it. Most of the time. Occasionally something fell flat, but overall, Cat Carlton was the funniest person Brody had ever seen. And bless the rest of the cast, they’d gone along with it, never once breaking character.

He glanced around at the crowd as the second act continued to play out in front of them. Everyone was on the edge of their seats with anticipation, eagerly waiting to see what she would do next. Hell, he was, too.

And though every time she messed up one of his lines it was like ripping a Band-Aid off a particularly hairy body part, the response from those around him made it clear that he wasn’t yet ready for prime time. He had more work to do.

Which stunk.

But it was a heck of a lot better to know that
before
he got a producer up here.

Of course, he
had
e-mailed the playwright agent that very afternoon, causally slipping in that they’d secured a Davenport to play the lead. That would teach him to try to use something other than his own hard work for personal gain. Now he’d have to redo the play, asking the agent to take another look later on.

“She’s fantastic. I didn’t know she could act.” He heard the words from a couple of rows behind him. Several people agreed. In fact, he’d heard the words over and over throughout the last hour and a half.

And she was. Not to mention glowing.

Another line was changed and the crowd once again roared. He gave in and pulled out the small notepad he kept stashed in his coat pocket. Might as well write down some of the one-liners as she was coming up with them. He’d be an idiot not to use them.

He only hoped she could remember what he’d been too stubborn to write down before.

Fifteen minutes later, as the final scene came to an end and the actors took their bows, the crowd surged to their feet. There were several reporters in the group, all either with a camera or a photographer by their side. And they were not merely local people. In fact, he’d caught more than one of their credentials stating they were from Boston.

In one small move, Cat had gotten more people interested in one of his plays than he’d managed to accomplish in ten years of trying. It was sobering.

As she stepped to the edge of the small stage, instantly being surrounded by audience members seeking to meet her, her gaze sought him out. The blue of her eyes was bold and hot. And though she periodically glanced away to accept congratulations, her eyes kept returning to his. The action sent his pulse skyrocketing and his feet moving in her direction. His mother caught him before he reached Cat.

“I can’t believe how good she is.” She raised her voice to be heard over the noise, and squeezed his arm, darn near bouncing in place. “This is it, Brody. This is really it. You’re totally going to get noticed.”

He looked down at her. The radiance on his mother’s face matched that on Cat’s. “You do know that half of that wasn’t even my work?”

She motioned with her hand as if batting away a gnat. “So you’ll change it. Big deal.”

Yeah, big deal. Only, he liked to do things on his own. Seemed that was about to take a flying leap, though. Because yes, he was definitely changing it. Cat had turned an ordinary play into a gold mine, and he would not be too foolhardy to admit it.

And then Cat was standing two feet in front of him.

Her grin spread wide as he looked at her. “That. Was. Amazing!” She shouted.

In the next instant she lunged at him, and his breath caught. Her mouth had landed on his.

Her arms twined tight around his neck, his around the small of her back, and he scooped her up so that her feet dangled several inches off the floor. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, more of a release of excitement, but it was hot nonetheless.

And he couldn’t get enough.

When she leaned back, her smile still in place, he forced himself to put her on her feet. And not to kiss her again. Because hey, they were in the middle of a crowd of cameras. Instead, he grabbed her roses and handed them over.

“I can’t believe you don’t do this professionally,” he told her.

The glow from her somehow managed to hike up another notch. “I can’t believe I haven’t done this since I was eighteen. What a high!”

She hugged him once more, this time turning her mouth to his ear. “I’m so sorry I messed it up.”

He pulled back. “What?”

Was she kidding him?

But before he could tell her she had messed up nothing, Brody’s mother captured her in a tight hug, then the two of them were swept off to join the others greeting the crowd as they filed out of the small auditorium.

Brody watched her go, jealous at all the other people now on the receiving end of her glow, and worrying over what she’d just said. Did she really think that what she’d done up on that stage had harmed the play?

He hung around the auditorium as everyone dispersed, accepting his own congratulations and pats on the back, and eventually making his way over to Clyde.

The two men took one look at each other and nodded.

“You’ll be making changes?” Clyde asked.

“First thing tomorrow morning.”

Clyde gave another nod. “Then I’ll bring everyone in early for a quick run-through before we go live.”

The heavy smell of flowers filled the kitchen as Cat dug through the cabinets to find yet another vase. She’d not only come home with two dozen yellow roses from Brody, but three other people she didn’t know had given her roses as well. She’d been loaded down with them.

Brody had stuck around only long enough to help her to her car, carrying the majority of the flowers for her, but then he’d disappeared. He’d given her a quick hug and muttered something about seeing her at the house.

She plunked the last dozen into the oversized glass she’d pulled from one of the cabinets, then stood, hands on her hips, and turned in a circle. She didn’t
see
him at the house.

Not that he’d said he would see her
tonight
. She’d just hoped he would.

Actually, she’d hoped he would invite himself over. Especially after that kiss she’d laid on him at the theater. She hadn’t meant to do that—still couldn’t believe she’d done it in the middle of all those people—but as the play had ended, she’d been so amped that all she could think about was finding Brody.

Then all she could think about was being in his arms.

So she’d put herself there.

And she’d kissed him.

Which had not been one of her smarter moves. Especially since they’d already made the papers once that day. But she had to do something with all that energy built up inside her. And when a hot, studly professor looked at her as if
he
wanted nothing more than for her to be in his arms?

Well, a girl could only hold back so much.

She’d wanted to invite him over, but the look in his eyes as he’d loaded the flowers in her car had warned her away. It had almost been as if he was upset with her. Maybe because she’d botched so much of his play?

But she hadn’t meant to. She’d forgotten her lines! She’d had to improvise.

The crowd had seemed okay with it, though. Most of the time. But still, she should have rehearsed more. It wasn’t like her to slip up in public, and she didn’t particularly care for it. She’d work extra hard tomorrow to make sure the same thing didn’t happen again.

If only Brody would show up so she could explain.

She sank into a chair at the kitchen table, sitting in the midst of three bunches of the flowers, and sighed. Her foot bounced up and down on the floor as she opened her laptop. Her kids would be hours asleep, but maybe JP or Vega would be online and she could video chat with them. Or possibly she’d gotten an e-mail asking how the night had gone. Anything would be better than sitting there alone.

When she got the laptop booted up, no one seemed to be around.

She checked her cell. No texts, no missed calls. Not even another message from her mother.

Ugh.
She couldn’t just sit there. She was too hyped on adrenaline.

Making up her mind, she grabbed her cell and a small flashlight and headed for the back door. It was well after ten and heavy darkness outside, but she refused to sit inside bouncing off the walls. She would go for a walk on the beach. The fresh air would help. Hopefully.

Only, when she stepped out her back door, there was Brody at the base of her stairs.

He’d changed out of the suit he’d worn to the theater and into heavily washed jeans and a dark green pullover. His feet were bare, his glasses were nowhere to be found, and his hair once again stood on end. One hand was on the railing, while the other held a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

She blew out a breath.

Thank goodness he hadn’t left her alone tonight.

He looked up the stairs, his expression unreadable in the shadows, and held up the hand carrying the champagne. “Want to celebrate?”

“You bet I do.”

He took the three steps up to the deck, but before a single drop was poured, set everything on the small table and reached for her. She slipped into his arms.

His mouth settled over hers and she poured every ounce of energy she had into the kiss. Electricity sizzled through her body, seeming to shoot out through the tips of her toes. She licked his bottom lip. He groaned into her mouth.

Then she smiled against his lips.

In the next instant, he reversed their positions and lifted her to the narrow railing. This put her at a better height, but she had to hold on to his shoulders to ensure she didn’t tip over and fall to the ground.

When he stepped between her thighs, she quit worrying about falling. She simply hung on and let him have his way.

Neither of them said anything as she tugged upward on his shirt, and he went to work on the row of buttons running down her chest. His shirt hit the deck flooring, then he pushed hers from her shoulders. It slipped down her arms and silently disappeared into the dark behind her.

She did have the momentary thought that they were out on the deck and there were solar lights glowing all around them. However, the lights only added to the ambience.

If anyone happened to be watching from a distance, it would look only like two people making out. As opposed to the fact he was currently tugging at the fabric of her skirt, trying to get it below the cheeks of her butt. She held tight around his neck and let him lift her just enough to pull the skirt free. Then he plopped her back down. She sat on the deck railing in her matching hot-pink demicup bra and bikini panty set. They’d been a birthday present she’d bought for herself earlier that year. Just in case this ever happened again.

Heat from Brody’s bare chest taunted her, and she slid a hand over him. He was hot and solid and taut. Everywhere. She wet her lips, thinking about putting her mouth to him, but wanted to explore with her hands first. He was like a clay-sculpted model put out in the sun just long enough to bake to perfection.

She’d never realized daily jogging could do that to a body.

The thought made her suck in her own gut. She didn’t look bad, but she had birthed three babies over the years. There was no doubt her offerings weren’t nearly as chiseled as what she was getting in return.

Too bad.

She bit her lip to keep from leaning forward to kiss his skin, and dragged a finger down the middle of his stomach. It slipped right between his six-pack, and her insides quivered. They were about to do naughty, naughty things.

And then she realized that she was the only one actively participating.