Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (15 page)

She turned her back to the small gathering and put the phone to her ear.

“Tell me I’ll see you tonight.” Brody’s “sexy voice” was sexy as hell, and he used it the instant she answered the phone. She wanted to return the favor, but kept her tone even and polite instead.

“I do believe that could be taken care of at the play this evening.”

“Oh, Miss Davenport is on the phone, I see. Well then, Miss Davenport. Will I see you
after
the play tonight?” Brody insisted.

God, she wanted to be with him right then. She wondered if he had a closet in his office at the college. Could she sneak in? Have an afternoon quickie with his students wandering about?

She moved away from the reporters and let her smile return. “Don’t you sound a little desperate,” she teased. She’d glanced back to make sure no one had followed her. They hadn’t, but they were watching. “I do believe we’re still at twelve days, correct?”

“Actually, it’s eleven and a half now.”

She giggled. “Right. Eleven and a half. But my thinking is that
after
the play constitutes part of that eleven and a half.”

“Me too,” he quickly agreed. “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind.”

“After that shower this morning?” Her voice rose slightly and she reined it back in. “Why in the world would you think I might change my mind after that?”

“Mmmm . . .” He purred into the phone, and Cat’s knees went weak. “I had a really good time taking that shower this morning.” Brody paused, and she wondered if he was thinking about when he’d been on his knees in the shower or when she had. “I had a good time last night, too,” he added.

She nodded. “A really good time.”

One more peek over her shoulder, and she saw that the gap between her and the reporters was closing. She stood straighter. “I do need to run,” she said. “There are . . . people here.”

“Ah. The media. Probably because we made the paper again today for that kiss you laid on me.”

Embarrassment rushed through her. She still couldn’t believe she’d been the one to do that. “They asked me about it.” She spoke quietly.

“There? Today?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell them? That you kissed me a hell of a lot more later?” He waited a breath before adding, his voice deepening, “Did you tell them that I kissed you, too? And where all I kissed you?”

Just that quick, she was once again heated to boiling. “I really do have to go.”

His laugh flowed over her, and she closed her eyes as she visualized it wrapping tightly around her. “You do that, Miss Davenport. Put your public face back on. Wouldn’t want to be caught living your own life, would you?”

They said their good-byes, and she stared at her phone for an extra moment. What had he meant, exactly? She lived her own life.

Her phone rang again. This time it was her mother.

Oh.

That’s what he’d meant.

Her life was never really her own. Her mother would be calling to see how the visit to the park had gone—while no doubt also chastising her over kissing Brody.

And if she didn’t answer, the phone would just keep ringing.

She stepped father away from the crowd and answered once again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
HE SWISH OF
the sliding door sounded behind Cat as she sat on the top step of Brody’s deck Friday morning, huddled inside the handmade blanket she’d grabbed off the back of his couch. Unable to sleep, she’d been out there for over an hour. Though the sun still had a ways to go before making an appearance, everything was beginning to turn gray.

She peeked over her shoulder to find Brody’s dark silhouette against the glass of the door. His hair stood on end, and he wore a dark T-shirt and low-hanging jogging pants. His feet were bare. The vision made her shiver. He was mostly shadows, but she knew every detail of his body, as well as how strong that body was. And how caring the man was that went with it.

This had been both a wonderful and a rough week for her. Brody was a great lover. He was a great guy.

Her heart thudded as she thought about the rough part of the week. This was temporary.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was heavy with sleep.

She held up her cell phone. The face of it was dark. “Reading the news.”

And thinking about life. And Brody.

And their daughter.

He studied her quietly. Probably guessing that she had a lot more on her mind than current headlines. “Anything new?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Ratings for both Mom and Thomas Harrison are taking a beating. Mom for all the bad press, and Harrison for his part in digging up the bad press. But other than that, things seem to be calming down. Barely a mention of Dad’s mistress today.” She glanced back at the phone, pushing the button to bring the screen to life, but not bothering to load the news app. “There’s backlash from some football coach down in Texas that’s taking front page this morning. He got caught recruiting high school players when he wasn’t supposed to.”

She was rambling. Because her growing feelings for Brody made her nervous.

He padded across the deck, lowering himself to the empty space on the step beside her and handing over his cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” she murmured. She buried her nose in the top of the mug as she took a sip.

“When I woke to find you not in bed with me, I thought you’d gone home.”

“Nope.” She dropped the phone to her lap and cupped the coffee with both hands. She’d gotten chilled from sitting out there for so long. “Just wanted some fresh air.”

He eyed her again before shifting his attention to her phone. “Anything else of note?”

“An article out of Boston about the play,” she said. “It’s a good write-up.”

Though Tuesday night had once again been rough as she and several others had stumbled a few times on the changed script, the last two nights had been near flawless. On everyone’s part. She’d been pushing Brody to contact the producer once again.

“You should call him,” she stated now.

“Maybe.”

The wind brushed over her, and she tugged the blanket tighter around her. The T-shirt of his that she’d grabbed before coming out didn’t do much to keep her warm underneath the blanket. “You’re not going to, are you? Afraid to take the help my name might bring?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t call. I said maybe.”

“But you’re not going to,” she pushed.

“I like earning my own way, Cat. You know that. I like accomplishing things on my own. Not tossing around someone else’s name, as if that suddenly makes my work more worthwhile.”

“You have issues.” She sipped at the coffee. “And too much pride. In the play or not, my name could open doors for you, but beyond that, you deserve this. The play is good. It has nothing to do with me being in it. There’s nothing wrong with taking help when it’s offered.”

“Except I don’t believe in using people for my personal gain.”

“It’s not using me if I tell you to do it.” The man could be so exasperating.

“Yeah.” He nodded. His tone had turned surly. “Sure. Maybe I will then.”

She didn’t think so. Picking up her phone, she passed it over. “Do it now.”

Dark eyes bored into her. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

“Umm-hmmm.
That’s
the problem.” She didn’t know why she was trying to pick a fight, but she suspected if she kept at it, he’d go a round or two with her. He seemed to be right on the edge, just like her.

He took the coffee back and downed a large gulp. After wiping off his mouth, he stared out at the ocean. The lap of the waves was more soothing than the moment felt. “What else?”

She brought up the news app and began scrolling, but his hand closed over hers.

“What else are you doing out
here
?”

“Oh.”

He took her phone from her and slid it across the deck. One foot farther and it would have tumbled into the hydrangeas. As she watched it, she thought about what else. Her chest ached with all her thoughts.

“What else” was this whole week. It was supposed to just be about sex, only it seemed to have shifted when she hadn’t been looking. They hadn’t talked about the past or their lives between then and now. They’d been keeping it strictly an easy affair. Like they’d agreed to.

Only, last night they’d sat up in bed together watching a documentary about early politics in the United States. They’d debated opinions, and they’d laughed and teased each other good-naturedly. Then they’d kissed good night before snuggling together, his arm wrapped securely around her.

There was also the easy drive along the coast they’d taken Wednesday afternoon.

And the mornings here at his house. She’d stayed over every night that week, rising when he did to run through her yoga routine while he went for his jog, then having breakfast together when he returned. Very domestic. Very natural.

Very much feeling like more than sex.

Only, she couldn’t let it continue. It had nowhere it could go because she’d never told him about Annabelle.

But she didn’t know how to stop it.

Or if she wanted to.

She ran her eyes over his features now, noting that his whiskers were scratchier than usual that morning. Then she remembered he hadn’t shaved yesterday because she’d interrupted his morning routine with a last-minute quickie before he’d headed off to class.

They’d been getting ready in the bathroom together each day, and she’d grown aware that he never veered from his routine. For some reason, she’d wanted to see if she could shake things up. She’d succeeded.

“I’ve had a good time with you this week,” she said quietly. She could sit and look at him for hours.

He lifted a brow. “Had? Our time isn’t over, babe. We have nine days left.”

“Yeah.”

He traced the pad of his thumb across the apple of her cheek, and she closed her eyes at the touch. He could be so gentle with her. So much like something she wanted in her life.

“Why so sad?” he asked.

“I’m not sad.”

“Right. And I haven’t found my books stacked on my coffee table every single day this week.”

She smiled at that, and opened her eyes. The books had been an ongoing theme between them. When he wasn’t looking, she’d straighten up the room. He’d knock the books over right in front of her the instant he saw them. If he caught her trying to pick them up again, he’d scatter them even more.

There was no reason for the mess, as far as she could see, but it was growing on her. It was so much a part of Brody that it simply felt right to be in his house that way. Yesterday she’d gone so far as to stack the books only because she liked the look on his face when he first saw it.

She ignored his barb now, as well as his question. “You going into the office this morning?”

“I need to. No class, but I have posted office hours.”

She wrapped her arms around her legs and propped her chin on her knees. The moment was strained.

“You going back out to the park?” he asked.

She’d said last night that she needed to make another appearance today. “I should.”

“But?”

She blew out a breath and turned her head so her cheek rested on her knee and she was looking at him. She’d been out at the park the last three days. “But shaking hands and showing how wonderful my family is is the last thing I feel like doing today.”

“Then don’t do it.”

It wasn’t that simple. She shook her head. He wouldn’t understand. And she shouldn’t have admitted her feelings out loud.

“Cat.” The way he said her name, she knew he intended to push the issue. He’d given her grief a few times this week after she’d talked to her mom or her brother on the phone. He accused her of letting her family invade her vacation. “You don’t
have
to go out there,” he said now.

“Let it go, Brody. Because yes, I do.”

“Why?”

She looked out toward the ocean again. She was mentally drained. Not simply from whatever this was growing between her and Brody, but from the familial requirements that were always hanging just over her head. She was weary of it all. It hadn’t been so bad before all of the scandals. But now? It felt like her sense of right and wrong were warring with her sense of family duty. It was taking its toll on her.

“The Harrisons are ruthless,” she offered. “You know that. And you know they won’t stop. I need to make an appearance.”

“For your mother?”

“For my family.”

She felt him staring at her. Could sense his anger lying just below the surface. And she could understand his frustrations. He lived his life exactly as he wanted. But that didn’t mean she got to do the same. “Let’s not fight,” she said. She waggled her brows suggestively at him. “We still have nine days.”

Neither her words nor actions made him smile. But he did scoot closer. One arm came around her, and the heat from his body permeated the blanket. They sat there like that, both lost in their own thoughts for several minutes, and for the first time in years she felt normal. Like a woman simply being held by a man. They were sitting in the dark, the romance of the ocean lulling them into intimacy, with not a soul anywhere around. And she found she desperately wanted to confess her sins.

She wanted to make Brody understand how much she’d loved their daughter.

And she wanted to apologize for not giving him the opportunity to do the same.

“Have lunch with me today,” he tossed out. “I’ll leave the school by noon. And I don’t mean here at the house. Let me take you out. A real date. We’ll end it at Lily’s. I’ll buy you the doughnut of your choice for dessert.”

That would be a Boston cream filled. Louisa had been right. They were killer.

But he wanted to go out in public with her as a couple. They’d talked about that.

She studied him. Daylight was just beginning to peek up out of the water, and he looked so cute with his mussed hair and his geeky little glasses. Moments like this made her wish her life was different.

“You know I can’t do that,” she finally said.

“Actually, I don’t know any such thing. Why can’t you, exactly?”

“I told you. I don’t need the publicity. I don’t
want
the publicity.” And she didn’t want to listen to her mother. She’d just gotten her mom calmed down over the kiss picture that had shown up earlier in the week. A lunch date would only get her started again.

“Afraid you’ll be disinherited if seen with a nobody like me?”

She chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder. “You know that’s not it.”

He picked up her hand, holding it in his, before putting it to his mouth and kissing each finger one at a time. The move was gentle, but it was also loaded with meaning. It said that he was having some of the same thoughts she’d been fighting with herself.

Was this more?

Could this be more?

“Are you trying to romance me, Dr. Hollister?”

He looked her in the eyes then. The day had grown a couple of shades lighter, and she could make out every thought on his face. It was scary to see that he was as confused as she. “And if I am?” he asked.

She turned away because there was a sudden pressure at the back of her eyes. She did not want to sit out there and cry for him.

But he didn’t let her escape. His hand touched her chin and brought her back to him.

“What would be so bad if I am?” he whispered.

“It’s complicated.”

He nodded as if he understood. Then he put his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, and it took her breath away. It explored her mouth slowly, showing her how well he knew her. He knew how to make her respond and what would pull a moan out of her.

And he knew exactly when to stop to keep it from going too far.

“Complications are merely the road bumps of life,” he told her. “In the end, you still reach your final destination.” He tucked a stra
nd of hair behind her ear, his eyes warm and inviting. “The only question is, which destination do you want to choose?”

His words hurt her heart. Because in that moment, she wanted to choose him. She wanted to step away from her life, to not have made her decisions in the past—to not have
had
to make them—and she wanted to choose Brody.

But she couldn’t. She’d messed up too much.

“You don’t understand.”

His jaw hardened just a fraction, but he kept his words easy. “Then explain it to me.”