There was that soft, vulnerable side of him. Once again, he opened himself up to her and, God help her, she couldn’t resist. No matter how much she knew she ought to. “What happened?”
He dropped his gaze to hers. “You didn’t read the article.”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t want to know what it said. I didn’t care.” She knew firsthand what it was like to know people talked about you behind your back, accusing you of things that simply weren’t true.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her. Unable to resist, she pressed her cheek to his chest. For a long moment, they stood that way, the same need she remembered from their night together flowing between them as strongly as it had then. She closed her eyes and inhaled, filled her lungs with the scent of soap and leather, a scent she’d come to think of as his, and allowed herself to luxuriate in the moment.
“I was twenty.” His quiet voice rumbled through his chest. “I’d been dating this girl, Trish Hartman. We’d been going out for about a year when I found out she was seeing my best friend behind my back. Actually, I caught them in the act. So I ended it. A month later, she told me she was pregnant, and the baby was mine. I was hurt, angry. I knew damn well I wasn’t the only possible father, so I demanded a paternity test. Told her if the baby was mine, I’d support her all the way, but until she could prove it, she wasn’t getting a damn cent out of me. I never heard from her again.”
He paused and drew in a ragged breath, his body stiffening. The tone of his voice, quiet and etched with sorrow and regret, touched her heart. It was a wound for him, a deep scar he laid bare before her.
“A couple months went by and a new girl moved into town, Kaylee Johnson. She had coal black hair and pale skin, wore dark clothing, smoked, and wore rings on every finger. I can’t remember how many tattoos she had. Lord, that girl stood out like a blinking neon sign.”
Another rocket exploded above their heads, illuminating the night. The memory obviously played through his mind, and she was loath to intrude, to break the spell that held him bound. So she held her breath and simply waited for him to continue.
“She walked down the street and people turned, pointed, and whispered. You know how it goes, but she held her head up high and proud, daring people to judge her.”
Cat couldn’t help smiling at that. Sounded like someone else she knew.
“The first time I watched her walk through town like that, I thought to myself, I have to know that girl. She ended up becoming a good friend. We spent a lot of time together. We weren’t dating, but everyone assumed we were. She said she didn’t care what anyone thought. The Fourth of July that year we were downtown, watching the fireworks display from right over there. See those boulders, at the edge of the park?” He lifted a hand and pointed out ahead of him then glanced at her.
She followed where he pointed and nodded. It frustrated her she couldn’t see his face, his eyes, could only wait for him to tell her what went on in his mind.
“You sure you want to hear this?” He lifted a hand and brushed her hair back off her face, the touch so tender her heart melted.
“Only if you want to tell me.” She pressed her ear to his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I’m listening if you need to share it.”
His heart beat a quick, fierce rhythm beneath her ear, a sound that told her more than words could how difficult this was for him. Long moments passed in silence, and she wasn’t sure he’d continue.
Eventually he drew in a deep breath, his arms tightening around her in return.
“We sat over there, watching the display, talking, when Trish appeared out of nowhere. She was angry, and she held a gun. She accused me of running out on her, accused me of cheating. We argued. It got loud and ugly. I said things I shouldn’t have said. I was mad as hell. Trish had always been prone to theatrics so I didn’t think for a second she’d ever actually use that gun. Until she pointed the muzzle at Kaylee and pulled the trigger. When Kaylee went down, Trish pulled the gun on herself.”
Cat couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through her and tightened her hold on him. He’d watched two people he cared about die right in front of him. She lifted her head. She couldn’t imagine the kind of scar that left on a person’s soul. “I’m so sorry. How horrible.”
Another rocket exploded, another spray of colors illuminating his face. He stared out into the night ahead of him, jaw set. As if sensing her watching him, he glanced down, regret and sorrow palpable in his dark eyes.
“Trish’s mother blamed me. Said if I hadn’t made her so upset, both of them might still be alive.”
Cat smoothed a hand over the stiff muscles of his back. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. There are so many things I should have done differently that night, though.” He gave a slow, sad shake of his head then pressed his forehead to hers. “The point being, I don’t give a damn who your mother was, what she did, or what people think about any of it. I have skeletons in my closet, too. What matters to me is what you think.”
“Smile for the camera?”
She and Michael turned their heads toward the voice at the same moment, but before they had time to acknowledge the woman standing in the gazebo entrance, a flash went off.
“For the Fourth of July spread.” She smiled, then left before they had the chance to say anything in return.
Michael watched the woman walk away for a moment before turning to Cat.
“Let’s get out of here.” Before she had a chance to object, he released her and took her hand, tugging her behind him out of the gazebo and down the street. “I know a place where we can get a better view of the fireworks display.”
Chapter Six
Seated atop his bike, Michael slid a hand along the soft arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Cat sat behind him, her cheek resting against the back of his shoulder. The feel of her body against his returned him to the blissful freedom of lying in her embrace, except he couldn’t get his mind to stop churning.
They were parked at the top of the bluffs, a small spot along the edge of the mountain highway that overlooked the town. They arrived several minutes ago, but so far, neither of them had said anything. The mountainside at their backs, the town’s lights twinkled below. The sky lit up with the chorus of fireworks being shot off, the bigger, annual display coming from the center of town, with other, smaller personal displays scattered throughout.
He shouldn’t be here with her, should have left well enough alone. The thought of hurting her when he left tied his gut in knots, but she was the flame and he was the moth, drawn to her radiance. Simply being in her presence filled him with a serenity he hadn’t felt in a decade. A sense he couldn’t resist, no matter how much he ought to.
Telling her that story had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Sure, the folks in Crest Point knew what happened because they were there when everything went down, but personally, he hadn’t shared the story with anyone. The wound had always been too great, the guilt too much to bear.
He hadn’t known what to expect from Cat. Only that, once again, something in her eyes pulled the words from his mouth. He’d carried the weight of the blame for what happened that ugly July night in his youth. If you asked him, everyone else’s reaction had only been what he deserved.
Cat surprised him. Instead of the judgment he expected to find, the echo of pain and sorrow in her eyes was exactly what his heart needed. He’d be forever grateful to her. Now if only he could get the same from Kaylee, he might forgive himself.
“You’re right.” Cat leaned her head against the back of his shoulder. “The view’s fantastic.”
“Isn’t it? I used to come up here a lot.” Another series of bursts illuminated the night sky, as if to prove the sky’s beauty and, somehow, he was glad he wasn’t up here alone.
“Bring girls up here all the time, did you?�
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The playful tease in her voice dragged a quiet laugh out of him. He slid his hand along her arm, enjoying the softness of her skin. “No. I come because it’s quiet and peaceful. I happen to like the view.”
Her quiet, breathy laugh faded as quickly as it came. As the sound died on her lips, she tensed against his back, went so quiet he simply waited for her to voice whatever was on her mind.
“That picture’s going to hit the paper tomorrow.”
“That bothers you a lot, doesn’t it?” The fear in her voice and the stiffness of her body against his back spoke volumes.
“It’s true what they say about my mother. It’s not all lies.”
In her soft-spoken words, he heard again what she told him their first night: “I’ve spent my life playing the part of the wallflower, trying not to give anyone a reason to look too closely.” Now he knew what she meant. It made him feel for the little girl she must have been. Made him wish he could somehow ease the wound within her. He knew exactly how she felt.
“Forget the town. You shouldn’t let them get to you. Not everybody thinks that way.”
The need to touch her too great to ignore, he pulled away from her long enough to get off the bike. He straddled the seat again, this time facing her, gripped her thighs behind the knees, and tugged her closer, settling her legs overtop his. The heat of her settled intimately against him and set his libido thrumming. He hadn’t expected to find acceptance in her eyes when she learned his truths. Somehow, it had only made her more beautiful.
Now she sat staring at him, her face bathed in moonlight, illuminated occasionally by the colored lights in the night sky. She seemed every bit as leveled by whatever was happening between them as he felt.
He lifted a hand, stroking his thumb along her bottom lip. The sudden urge to take her mouth hit him hard. Instead, he drew her to him, and she pressed her cheek to his chest, wrapped her arms tightly around him, a gesture of trust, intimacy, and the moment became something else entirely. Something primal flowed between them — the need to hold and be held, to sit within someone’s embrace and feel safe. A sense of peace washed over him again.
They sat together on the bluffs until long after the annual display in town ended, then stayed to watch the smaller, personal displays. It was after midnight when he finally brought her home. Gazing down at her as they stood outside her apartment reminded him of the morning after. He hadn’t wanted to leave her then, and he didn’t want to leave her now. He wanted to see her again, wanted to see her as often as he could while he was here, to get lost in the blissfulness her presence gave him.
She was the first woman to remind him of the all-consuming emptiness in his chest. To remind him how bereft his life had become, that something was missing, something his soul yearned for.
Something his brother had found. Michael’s relationships were a series of flings meant to keep people at a distance. Cat was the first woman to make him want more.
Drawing his brows together in misery, he shook his head. “God knows I want to see you again, but I’m not planning on staying in town long. I own that bike shop in L.A., and I really need to get back to it.” He cupped her cheek in his hand for a moment, allowing himself to revel in the closeness, in the way she leaned her head into his palm. “I don’t want to hurt you, Cat.”
The same regret forming a knot in his gut shimmered back at him from the depths of her eyes. “I need this to stay at one night.”
He nodded. “It’s for the best, I think.”
She lifted a hand and touched his cheek, tender, affectionate. “Take care of yourself, Michael.”
He kissed her cheek, then waited until she was in her apartment before turning and walking away. As he mounted his bike, regret and need warred for supremacy in his gut. Ten years he’d spent building walls, but in one night, one tiny little slip of a woman had gotten under his skin. He may never see her again, but he was positive he’d never forget her.
• • •
“So? How bad is it?”
Cat poured herself a cup of coffee, more out of a need to keep her hands busy than an actual need for caffeine, as she waited for Lisa’s reply. Seated at the dining room table, her roommate once again had the newspaper out in front of her, searching for pictures of her and Michael.
“Well, not super bad, all things considered.” The slight hesitation in Lisa’s tone had a stone of dread dropping in Cat’s stomach. “You guys ended up in the Society section. There are two of them.”
“Two?” She’d only seen the photographer take one last night. Cat moved to stand behind Lisa and peered over her shoulder. The pictures were side by side, splash style. The first was the one they’d taken of her and Michael in the gazebo downtown. She’d expected that one.
Cat’s breath caught in her throat, nausea swirling in her stomach, as she caught sight of the second one. The two of them were seated atop his bike, out on the bluffs, watching the fireworks. Michael faced her, and her thighs lay overtop his. Once again, they had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, her head resting on his chest. Like the picture by the beach, someone had taken it from a distance, but you could clearly see their faces, despite the darkness.
An eerie sense of invasion crept up her spine, and the creepy calls she continued to get came rushing back at her.
Cat shook her head. “There was no one else up there with us, Lisa. No flash went off. The first picture that ended up in the Tribune, I just assumed had been a fluke. This one feels entirely too much like somebody’s spying on us.”
Lisa twisted in her seat to look back at her. Her brow furrowed, the same sense of worry creeping into her eyes.
Cat glanced at the blurb beneath the picture.
“A certain pair were spotted watching the fireworks from the bluffs.” She groaned. “They had to mention the bluffs.”
Anyone who was anyone knew the bluffs were notorious for romantic interludes. Make-out Point they called it.
“Let it roll off. So you’re dating somebody. Big whoop.”
Cat shook her head. “I wouldn’t exactly call the time Michael and I spent together dating. It was a one-night stand. Add this on top of all those phone calls.”
She moved into the living room, sank onto the sofa, and turned to the window. Wispy white clouds meandered across the blue sky. Worry knotted her stomach as her conversation with Michael last night came back to her.
She darted a glance at Lisa. “You don’t suppose this has anything to do with our families, do you? Technically, Chloe Edwards’ daughter is dating Senator Brant’s grandson.”
Her gut knotted. She shouldn’t have gone with Michael last night, shouldn’t have allowed the closeness between them, but when he touched her, her body melted. Sitting with him up on those bluffs was the most relaxed she’d felt since she quit her job working for Nick. She would not allow whoever this was to ruin it.
“I don’t see why. You’re dating Michael Brant. He’s news around here.” Lisa offered a reassuring smile and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Whoever it is, they’ll get bored. You’ll see.”
Cat bit her lower lip. “I hope so.”
When the phone shrilled on the coffee table in front of her, unease swirled in Cat’s stomach. Drawing a deep breath and praying it wasn’t another prank, she stretched to reach the cordless receiver. The caller ID displayed “number unavailable” as always.
Anger rose like a tidal wave storming through her system. Cat punched the “talk” button, her voice less than friendly. She was tired of whatever game this was. “What do you want?”
“Your life.” The voice was computerized. Someone had obviously gone to great lengths to disguise themselves, and the knowledge was a lead weight sinking in her stomach. The malice lacing the tone wrapped fear around her chest like a coiled snake.
Her hands trembled. “Excuse me?
”
“You’ll pay for your indiscretions, bitch.”
Drawing a deep breath in an effort to control the nausea swirling in her stomach, Cat sat forward. “Who is this?”
“You’re a whore, just like your mother. You’ll pay for your indiscretions.”
The line went dead. Her entire body began to shake. Cat tossed the phone to the other side of the couch like it was hot metal burning her hand.
Lisa looked up from the paper. “What did they say?”
Cat’s eyes widened. She clasped her hands together in a vain attempt to stop their trembling. “I was just threatened.”
She could no longer put the phone calls off to pranks. Couldn’t ignore the seemingly coincidental timing, either. Michael’s appearance in her life. The constant photos in the newspaper, two of which occurred during times when she was sure they were alone. Someone followed them, but whoever it was obviously didn’t want him. Their target appeared to be her.
The same fear currently knotting Cat’s stomach filled Lisa’s eyes. “You need to call the police, Cat.”
• • •
Standing beside his bike outside the bar, the loud music thumping behind him, Michael glanced down the street. The small bookshop Cat’s father owned sat on the corner of Main and Elm, one block down on the opposite side of the street.
That Cat would be there at this time of night was wishful thinking on his part. It was well after ten and, with the exception of the bar, everything in Crest Point closed at nine and had for as long as he could remember.
Three days had passed since he left her at her apartment, but she hadn’t left his mind for a single moment. This was the first time in ten years he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman. Or wanting her. Or yearning to see her again, to inhale the soft scent of her skin. Mostly to feel her arms wrapped around him.
Her Knight in Black Leather (Crimson Romance) Page 9