All of Me

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Do you mind if I talk to your daughter for a few minutes?”

  Brenda Merritt shrugged and reluctantly made way for Sadie, who padded barefoot down the narrow hallway toward him. “If it was up to me, I’d say buzz off. But no one listens to me around here anyway.”

  “I listen, Mom,” said Sadie sharply. “I’ve done nothing but listen.”

  “I’ll be right inside if things get out of hand,” Brenda said, one hand planted on her hip.

  “There’s no need for that. We’re just going to talk.” Sadie’s firm tone made Caleb want to prove her wrong right then and there. She brushed past him, trotting down the front steps onto the scrubby grass, and gestured for him to follow her. He would have been hard-pressed not to do so, since he couldn’t take his eyes off the long, gorgeous legs flashing quickly across the lawn.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” she hissed at him as she led him away from the house, toward an old faded-turquoise Chevy that sat nestled under a tree. It seemed the most private spot around; he wondered if it was her version of a tree house.

  “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I couldn’t just let it slide.”

  “I assume you’re here to apologize for landing me in the Kilby Press-Herald?”

  “Yes. I’m really sorry, Sadie.”

  “Apology not accepted. I need more.” She leaned against the Chevy and crossed her arms over her chest. He couldn’t help it, his gaze dropped to her breasts. A hint of shadow nestled between them, like a secret begging to be told.

  Swift fury swept over him. Why did he care whether she accepted his apology? What was it to him? Nothing. He turned on his heel. Two strides took him across the crabgrass lawn toward the broken concrete of the sidewalk.

  Fuck this. He was Caleb Hart, star pitcher, and he didn’t have to apologize for shit.

  About twenty steps across the lawn he hit some sort of bungee-like force field and his footsteps slowed until he came to a halt. Nope. He couldn’t leave, not like that. He did a quick U-turn. Sadie was still leaning against the Chevy, watching him with wide, brilliant dark eyes, one long leg crossed over the other.

  Those eyes. Fire trapped in darkness. Those eyes wouldn’t let him leave.

  He strode back to her and braced his hands against the car, with her trapped between. “What do you want from me anyway?” He growled the words like a snarling dog.

  She didn’t back down. In fact, she got right in his face. “How about an explanation that makes sense for why you’d leave the field and come climbing into the stands like a lunatic and jump all over your father just for saying hi.”

  “You need to stay away from him. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. He was wearing a freaking disguise so I wouldn’t catch him.”

  “But why? What’s so bad about your father?” She poked him in the chest. “You’re not telling me something, Catfish. And I don’t like that.”

  His jaw tightened so much he could barely get the words out. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t know some things.”

  Her eyes narrowed. With both hands on his chest, she pushed him out of the way. He took a step backward, thinking she wanted to put some distance between them, but instead she did the opposite. She swayed close to him, only inches separating their bodies.

  “That’s bullshit, Caleb.” She slammed the flat of her hand against the car. “See this Chevy? That’s the only trace of my father, besides a silly stuffed animal. For the longest time I actually believed my mother when she said he was in the CIA and had to live undercover. When I finally found out he was your garden-variety married man cheating on his wife, I felt like such an idiot. I’d rather just hear the truth. And before you say it isn’t my business, you should have thought of that before you vaulted over that railing and scared the living crap out of me.”

  Her chest heaved with the force of her anger. Color burned in her cheeks. Her slim form vibrated like a plucked guitar string. Another feeling came over him. Crazy as it was, he was getting turned on. He shifted, easing the lump in his jeans. Great timing, Hart.

  “I told you I’m sorry. That’s why I came here, to apologize.” His voice sounded like sandpaper. God, he wanted her. He wanted all that fire and passion directed at him. He’d never felt this way before. Women were great. He liked ’em. No complaints at all. But he’d never felt like this, as if he’d wither away if he didn’t have her.

  The fiery scorn in her eyes told him his apology hadn’t gone far enough.

  “I’m very sorry, how’s that? How can I make this right?”

  Her nostrils flared. It flashed into his mind that the two of them together would be like a nuclear explosion.

  “Well, it’s a start, but—” But she didn’t get a chance to finish because he couldn’t take it anymore. He dragged her against him, his mouth on hers, his hands on her ass. Groaning with the relief of it—hot pressure against his hard-on—he barely heard the rest of her sentence.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I want you, Sadie. You don’t know how bad. And when you talk to me like that, all fired up and passionate, I can’t keep my hands off you.” And he couldn’t. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own, running free-range along the delicious place where her ass curved into her spine, back down to the sweet globes of her behind, to the tops of the long legs he craved to feel wrapped around his waist. He felt her nipples harden against his chest, her body respond to his touch. Hot words kept pouring out of his mouth. “You feel so fucking good. I want to get you naked right now. Take you right here against this car, so hard and hot you won’t remember how we got here. Tell me you want me. Tell me, Sadie.”

  She tore herself out from his grip. “You know I . . . I’m very attracted to you.” It was a ragged whisper. “But I don’t know you, and I’m not doing that to myself again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re not telling me something important. Maybe you were afraid your dad was going to tell me, and that’s why you freaked out.”

  His heart skipped several beats. Did she know the secret he was keeping? Could she possibly? “Like what?”

  “Like . . . maybe you have a girlfriend. Maybe you’re going to make a fool out of me.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.” He let out a curt laugh. If she had any idea how much he’d avoided any involvement beyond sex, she’d be amazed that he was even in this conversation.

  “So you’re one of those, then? Love ’em and leave ’em . . . sorry, screw them and leave them? No, thanks.” She flung an arm toward the sidewalk, as if gesturing for him to leave. He didn’t. He stood right where he was, because his hands still burned to touch her and he wasn’t going to leave her side, not yet. “I’m not the right one for you.”

  “Come on, Sadie. There’s some serious chemistry between us. Why would you walk away from that?”

  “Because sex isn’t enough. Because I’m always going to want to know what’s going on in here.” She tapped the side of his head. Even after she dropped her hand, he felt the tingling sensation of her touch.

  Again she gestured to the open air. “Go ahead. I’m not stopping you. I won’t even be mad. We’ll keep working on Sluggers for Slugs, or whatever else the team wants. I was thinking about having the players make cupcakes for the local morning news. Brett’s sister owns a bakery, and she’s offered to donate the space. Everyone loves cupcakes, and it would make you guys look adorable, plus we could sell them for like, fifty dollars a cupcake, and the money would go to the slugs—”

  He dug his hands into his hair, feeling as if he were drowning in her flow of words. Cupcakes? Why was she talking about cupcakes? And she was giving him little pushes, trying to shove him toward the sidewalk, out of her life.

  And then, the last words he’d planned to say came pouring out of his mouth.

  “My dad is Thurston Hartwell II, he’s a con man and convicted criminal. He just got out of prison and he’s living with me and no one knows and I don’t trust him near
another human being. Especially one I care about.”

  Of all the things Sadie had expected, nothing as explosive as Caleb’s blunt revelation had crossed her mind.

  “Thurston Hartwell . . .” The name rang a bell. She glanced at the house, wondering if her mother was eavesdropping. This corner of the backyard was the only truly private place on the whole lot, which was why she’d picked it. But sound could carry.

  “Come here.” Tugging at Caleb’s hand, she opened the door to the Chevy and slid into the wide backseat. When the door was safely shut behind Caleb, cocooning them in warm, stuffy, spruce-air-freshener-scented privacy, she asked in a low voice, “Thurston Hartwell is the scam artist from Houston? The one who pretended to marry those widows?”

  “That’s the one. That was just one of his scams, by the way.” His face was a piece of blank stone, absolutely no emotion showing; even his eyes held no expression. She felt terrible that she’d forced him into this confession.

  “You changed your name.”

  “Wouldn’t you? I didn’t need that kind of baggage.”

  “Wow.” Slowly, Sadie sank back against the cracked ivory vinyl of the car seat. Her mother might be an emotional mess, but at least she hadn’t committed any felonies. “So he’s living with you?”

  “For now.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “The other choice was a halfway house, and I couldn’t . . . he’s not a violent man. Just . . . not trustworthy.”

  “So you jumped into the stands because you were afraid for me?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even think about it. I saw him, I saw you, and the next thing I knew I was clawing my way past a thousand foam toothbrushes.” Finally, the faintest hint of a smile animated his face. “Shocked the hell out of me, I’ll tell you.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “Duke knows a little. Not all. He knows I took over guardianship of my twin brothers. He knows my real name. But I’ve never gotten into the nitty-gritty about Bingo. If he knows more, it’s because he looked it up.”

  Sadie looked down at the floorboards of the Chevy, where a long-ago mango lip gloss had collided with one of her old journals. All of the fears that had been rattling around her brain were complete fantasies, products of her Hamilton-fueled paranoia. The crazy things she’d been thinking . . . that Caleb was married, that he was trying to make a fool of her.

  Caleb’s firm hand nudged her chin so she was looking at him. His face filled her field of vision, steel blue eyes gleaming with regret. “It changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  She stared at him blankly. Of course it did. Now, for the first time, she’d seen underneath the confident ballplayer facade.

  “I know what you think when you look at me now,” he continued in a low voice. “What anyone would think. Hell, just read the Can the Catfish petition. Morally corrupt. An embarrassment to the town. Depraved—”

  Horrified, she put a hand to his mouth. “What are you talking about? Your father committed those crimes, not you. Why should anyone think something like that about you?”

  Caleb’s expression shuttered again. He shifted his body away from her with a movement that reminded Sadie he was a professional athlete with a champion’s grace.

  “He raised me. I’m his blood.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She was no better. One con after another. I knew about some of them, but not all. And I never did anything about it. Just did my thing.”

  “What were you supposed to do? You were a kid.”

  He shot her a scathing look. “Kids aren’t always that innocent. That saying ‘the apple doesn’t fall far’? It’s a cliché for a reason.”

  “I don’t believe that.” She swung her legs onto the seat and rose to her knees. Taking a chance, she moved next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His chest was a solid wall of flesh, his heartbeat a steady reassuring thump. “If I did, I’d be sleeping half the day like my mom. Don’t you think we make our own destinies?”

  He turned in her embrace and secured her arms in a circle around him. She linked her hands together. “I don’t know.”

  She snorted skeptically. “You don’t know? Didn’t you become a baseball player instead of a scam artist?”

  His mouth twisted. Caleb, she was learning, was stubborn as hell, even when it came to hanging onto the bad stuff.

  “Look, Catfish, I don’t know much about baseball,” she went on, “but I’m pretty sure you can’t con your way into the major leagues.”

  “If you could, think I’d still be in Kilby?”

  She flopped back on her knees with an exaggerated gasp. “Now that . . .” She flung her hair over her shoulder. “. . . was uncalled for. As a member of the mayor’s staff, I object.”

  “Oh no. Don’t you go taking that personally.” He cupped her face in his big hands, one on each cheek. “Meeting you is the best part of being sent down. No contest.”

  She frowned. “Is that like saying the best part of Hell is the warm temperatures?”

  His laughter echoed through the stuffy interior of the Chevy. With his arms still linked around her, he tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple shifting under the slight stubble darkening his neck. “I like the way you make me laugh. I don’t know how you do it, but it’s really working for me.” He pulled her onto his lap, her breasts pressed against the hard musculature of his chest. Tendrils of heat curled through her body. “I told you what you wanted to hear. You said you wouldn’t sleep with me because I wasn’t telling you everything. Well, now you know. Where does that leave us?”

  Chapter 10

  THE AIR SEEMED to pulse around them like a living thing. Caleb’s heartbeat echoed through her body in a galloping rhythm. The warmth of his embrace made her melt, and his nervous expression made her want to kiss him all over that rawboned face. He might be a big, powerful athlete used to getting lots of attention, but at this moment he seemed to care only about the next words that would come out of her mouth.

  The problem was, she didn’t know what to say. Logic told her to run, for countless very good reasons. She forced herself to list them. One, he was a ballplayer, and she’d been badly burned by an overindulged jock. But Caleb didn’t seem spoiled the way Hamilton was. He seemed . . . lonely. As if he kept a big distance between himself and other people.

  Two, Caleb had told her his secret, but she wasn’t being exactly open herself. What if they got involved and then someone told him he was dating Scandalous Slutty Sadie and pissing off the entire Wade family? Three, she had a weakness for people who needed her help, and now that she knew Caleb’s story, all her instincts were screaming at her to drop everything and fix his problems. Four, he was too damn attractive. If she took a step back now, she still had a chance of avoiding heartbreak. If she went to bed with him, would she have any hope of that?

  And that wasn’t even including her job, the low profile Mayor Trent had requested, and the Can the Catfish campaign. Reforming the Catfish probably didn’t mean sleeping with one of them.

  Still, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, couldn’t stop breathing in his scent, like sunshine on fresh-mowed grass. His wary expression tugged at her heart, as if a towline was tightening between them, pulling her closer and closer. But if that line tightened too much, where would that leave her? He’d be gone from Kilby at the first phone call from San Diego.

  No.

  She scrambled off his lap and slid to the far side of the backseat. “Nowhere, Caleb. It leaves us nowhere. Same as before.”

  “Why?”

  His blunt question sent her scrambling. “You . . . you probably have girls fighting over which one gets to go to bed with you. I’ve seen the girls outside the ballpark. I saw them when I came to pick you up. Do you know how many were checking you out? Like, all of them. Even the ones with the other players.”

  “What does that have to do with you and me?” He shifted on the seat, which brought her attention to the healthy bulge in his jeans.


  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re better off with one of those girls.”

  “I don’t agree. I want you.”

  The quiet conviction in his voice made her shiver. “I . . . I think we should keep things on a friendly basis. It’s just . . . better that way.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his expression hardening, then pushed open the door of the Chevy. He stalked out, took a few steps, then stopped. Scrubbing one hand across the back of his neck, he seemed to struggle with himself. Then, as if he couldn’t help it, he slid back into the car.

  “Just one more thing, Sadie. You’re throwing out one excuse after another and none of them make sense. We have this unreal chemistry that practically sets the air on fire, and you’re spouting bullshit. You know what I think?”

  He snatched her against his body, into the raging heat radiating from him. Tingles raced from her scalp to the base of her spine.

  “I think you’re afraid of how good it will be with us. You’re trying to keep things safe and under control. I’m not safe. And you want that. You want me. But you won’t let yourself have me.”

  His blistering words acted on her system like wind on a bonfire. Sudden lust, beyond anything she’d ever felt before in her life, swept through her. A little whimper rose from her throat. Yes, she wanted him, with every bone in her body. She wanted to dive into his body and abandon herself to this wild, rushing sensation. Giving in to the storm, she sagged against him, telling him silently to take her now, right here, on the backseat of an old Chevy, out on the lawn, wherever he wanted.

  He bent his head and fastened his mouth to hers with a possessive passion that made her moan. She clung to his broad shoulders, which tightened into iron. One of his powerful legs pressed between hers, and she couldn’t help pushing her groin against the hard, invading limb.

  He took the kiss deeper, deeper; it felt as if she were being whisked away by a whirlwind. Need ran through her body in hot streams as his hands pushed up her shirt to touch bare skin.