“Not a single one,” he responded. “But we might need to make a stop at Duncan’s Market.”
“Were you expecting to work up an appetite?” She grinned.
Kane was starting to like this confident and sassy side of Julia. It also helped ease his guilt to think that if she could make jokes, she wasn’t having second thoughts. Yet. “Actually, I was going to buy more protection. That one from my wallet was a leftover from... Well, let’s just say I haven’t needed to stock up on those kinds of things in a long time.”
“Oh.” She blushed a little.
“If not, we can stop in at the Gas ’N’ Mart. I’m sure Mrs. Marconi would love the firsthand gossip.”
He was obviously teasing and expected her to voice an objection to anyone in Sugar Falls finding out they were involved romantically. Kane himself was uncertain how he felt about people knowing he and Julia Fitzgerald were involved as more than a contractor and a client. On the one hand, he now preferred living his life under the radar and detested the idea of anyone knowing his personal business. On the other hand, having someone as smart and successful as Julia by his side made him want to show off to the world. See, I haven’t made a total mess of my life.
But Julia didn’t respond, and at this hour, the market was probably closed anyway. He pulled the antique watch out of his pocket and clicked it open to look at the time. It was then that he realized he hadn’t looked at the thing since he’d picked Julia up. Even with Charlie calling him and the kid taking the picture, he hadn’t been overly antsy tonight.
Kane turned on the satellite radio, and B. B. King crooned through his speakers about being home for Christmas. They were both quiet as he drove through town, the light dusting of recent snow making the holiday decorations stand out. He stopped by the minimart at the gas station to pick up additional provisions—and a box of Raisinets for her—and instead of avoiding eye contact with the other late-night customers or the ducking from the security cameras, Kane’s chest puffed out with satisfaction.
When they got to his house, an old remodeled barn nestled near Sprinkle Creek, he led her to the upstairs loft, which he’d converted into a master bedroom and bath equipped with more modern amenities than the new Sugar Falls Fire Department facility he’d been tricked into financing. Then, in an effort to be a good host, he went along very willingly when she pulled him into the shower with her. They made love against the white marble tile, and then again in his king-size bed.
The following morning, the sun’s pinkish light spilled into his wall of steel-framed windows, giving Julia’s pale skin a glow as she rose above him in a steady rhythm, bringing him to the edge of ecstasy and then sending him over.
When she collapsed beside him on the bed, he stroked his hand from her shoulder to her hip, outlining the contours of her curves. He kissed her and said, “I finally feel as if I’m on an even playing field with you.”
“What do you mean?” She grinned.
“I’m not like you, Jules.” He brought his fingers to her hair and tapped lightly at her temple. “I don’t have any of this. You’re so smart and so successful, and I’m neither of those things.”
“How can you say you’re not smart?” She sat up, taking the pale blue sheet with her. “You’re brilliant when it comes to measurements and calculating materials and envisioning what a finished home should look like.”
“Brilliant? Hardly. I barely graduated high school with a C-minus average.”
“You have ADHD, not a low IQ.”
He shook his head. “It might as well be the same thing.”
“No, Kane. It’s actually the opposite. I wish I could give you a baseball analogy because I know how much you relate to those, but I’m not familiar with that world. Yet. So I’ll give you a driving one instead.” He didn’t want to point out that she didn’t have much more experience with driving, either. “When you have ADHD, your brain is like a race car. A high-performance race car. It works so much faster and more powerfully than most normal brains. The problem, though, is that your race car brain has brakes made for Aiden and Caden’s tandem bicycle. So when it’s time to slow down or to make a turn, your brakes aren’t sufficient, and you spin off the road. The ability to perform is there. You simply have to address the mechanics of it all to get it to run smoothly. Does that make sense?”
“I think so.” He looked up at his motionless industrial-size ceiling fan. Suddenly his life felt as calm and as still as the blades on that fan. He had to find his own brakes, his own light switch to turn his spinning engine on and off. “Nobody’s ever explained it to me that way.”
“Good. Because I know what I’m talking about. I’m an expert, remember?” Julia leaned over to kiss him, but before he could pull her on top of him, a knock sounded on the door. “Do you get a lot of company on Sunday mornings?” she asked.
“I don’t get a lot of company anytime,” he replied. “Maybe it’s someone for you.”
She gulped and pulled her sheet up tighter. So much for the sassy expert. Kane laughed at her rediscovered social discomfort. “It could be Drew or Luke with the twins.”
Julia let out a small squeak and dove for her dress, which lay crumpled on the floor. Kane chuckled and pulled on his slacks from the night before. He didn’t bother with a shirt, because whoever was knocking at this time of day knew better than to expect a warm and friendly welcome.
Sure enough, when he swung open the door, the person on the other side made him feel anything but warm and friendly. “Erica? What are you doing here?”
Chapter Twelve
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” Julia heard the visitor’s words as she walked down the loft steps. He glanced at her before looking outside at whoever this Erica woman was. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? I’ve missed you, Kane.”
That voice sounded more than friendly. It didn’t take a dating authority to recognize that the sultry tone was flirtatious in nature. And intimate. It also was apparent that whoever was on the other side of that door was someone Kane didn’t want Julia to see. She braced herself for the nausea sure to come. The same thing had happened after she’d found out that Professor Mosely was married.
Thank goodness she’d resisted the urge to throw on one of his flannel shirts and pulled her evening gown over her head instead. She might look a mess—perhaps even like she’d been up all night making love—but at least she was in her own clothing. Embarrassed. Potentially disgraced. Possibly even lied to. But she owned it.
“I’d better get going,” Julia whispered from behind Kane.
He glanced at her quickly. “No. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Who’s that?” the woman outside asked.
“That’s none of your business, Erica. How did you find out where I lived?”
“I’m a reporter, Kane. I find things out.”
Julia let out a breath. If the lady was someone important to Kane—like a wife or a girlfriend—his address wouldn’t be a secret. Still, Julia wasn’t convinced Erica’s surprise arrival was anything but ominous.
This situation wasn’t good. Why was a reporter standing outside, talking to Kane as if they had some sort of close relationship? At least, the woman was speaking that way. Kane’s tone indicated he wanted nothing to do with this Erica person, which was good as far as eliminating the notion that he was cheating on another woman with Julia. However, his tone also indicated that he was hiding out from something or someone. And that was a secret he hadn’t shared with Julia.
She’d finally opened up to Kane, letting down her defenses and forgetting the lesson she’d painfully learned as a second-year med student. Yet she was now in danger of finding out that the man she’d let get close to her wasn’t who he seemed.
Pushing back at the irrational doubts throbbing in her head, Julia reminded herself that Kane was di
fferent than Stewart Mosely. The older professor had been an infatuation, someone in a position of authority over her who’d taken advantage of her naïveté.
Kane hadn’t done that, had he? Surely, their lovemaking last night—and this morning—wouldn’t have been the most intense and physically overwhelming she’d ever experienced if he’d been holding back a piece of himself.
Julia wracked her brain for red flags that she’d missed these past two months, but it was difficult to concentrate with the obnoxious odor of Erica’s heavily applied perfume floating into the house. She’d felt like a failure after the whole fiasco with Professor Mosely because when she’d realized her mistake, she hadn’t wanted to salvage their relationship.
With Kane, she didn’t even know if there was a relationship to salvage. Julia pulled her hair into as neat a ponytail as she could manage and told herself she wasn’t going to waste any more time not knowing.
“Hi.” She pushed herself under Kane’s arm and stuck out her hand. “I’m Julia.”
“Oh my,” the stunning brunette said, taking a step back instead of meeting the offered handshake. “The picture didn’t lie. I didn’t know you’d moved on so quickly, Kane.”
“It’s been two years, Erica. And I moved on the second I woke up from surgery and found out you’d spent the night with Arturo Dominguez.”
“Babe.” Erica tsk-tsked. “I was only trying to get the story. You’ll never have any idea what it’s like to be a female sportscaster in a man’s world.”
What picture? And what story? The throbbing in her brain intensified as she tried to make sense of the crumbs of information being tossed her way.
Kane shoved a hand through his hair. “Don’t act like there was some sort of inside scoop. The only story was that he ruined your boyfriend’s career when he rushed the mound with that baseball bat.”
“He didn’t ruin your career, Kane. You were getting too old for the pros, anyway. It was time to hang up your glove and get into coaching. Charlie said you’ve had several offers from some of the top pro teams. Why haven’t you taken any of them?”
“Is that how you found me?” Kane cursed. “You got my address from Charlie?”
“Who’s Charlie?” Julia whispered, latching onto the name she recognized from last night.
“Charlie’s my agent.”
Kane had an agent? An agent for what? It had something to do with baseball and sportscasters and taking a new offer. Unfortunately, Julia didn’t want to stand out here in the freezing air, trying patiently to sort this all out. Nor did she want this woman as an audience when Kane explained who he was and what he’d been keeping from her.
Julia hated secrets. They made her feel ignorant and powerless. She relied on knowledge, not intuition. Facts, not gut feelings. A long time ago, her instincts had been right about Professor Mosely, and she had only herself to blame for not paying better attention.
As frustrated as she was with Kane for not opening up to her sooner, she couldn’t very well fault him for avoiding questions she hadn’t thought to ask in the first place. He hadn’t lied to her, as far as she knew. And he seemed just as upset about this woman’s unannounced arrival as Julia was. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew that if the situations were reversed and Julia was even the slightest bit uncomfortable, Kane would be the first one to jump into the middle of things and protect her.
So she decided to do the same for him by giving him a polite way to excuse himself. “You know, I hate to cut this short, but I’m going home so I can check on Mr. Donut.”
“Crap. I forgot about him. I’ll go get my keys.”
Kane backed away from the door, and Julia stepped into his place, prepared to ask the woman who exactly she was. But the words never came, because, in the end, she wanted to hear it from Kane. He owed her that.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him take the steps two at a time. He was already on his way downstairs, his keys and a jacket in hand, when Erica asked, “Who’s Mr. Donut?”
“My dog,” Julia replied.
“Our dog,” Kane said at the same time, his declaration causing goose bumps to rise along her skin. He put his arm around her waist.
“He’s still ours, right?” Kane whispered into her hair, causing a shiver to vibrate down her spine.
“Depends on who you are, Kane Chatterson.” Julia’s response was not a whisper.
“I’m still me, Jules,” he said, the endearing nickname flooding her with more confusion and uncertainty. “No matter what she says or what you find out, just keep that in mind.”
“Oh my God,” Erica clapped a well-manicured hand to her cheek. “Please don’t tell me that your little girlfriend from this little town has no idea you’re Legend Chatterson.”
Legend? There was that nickname again.
“Would someone like to tell me what I’m missing here?” Julia asked, feeling slightly empowered by Kane’s announcement that they shared a dog and his tight grip of the car keys she was trying to pry out of his closed fist.
“I will,” Kane said. “Just as soon as my ex-girlfriend leaves.”
“She’s your ex?” Okay, so that revelation took some of the sting out of Julia’s growing frustration.
“You mean you don’t know who I am, either?” Erica’s bright white smile reminded Julia of a shark documentary she’d once seen in an oceanography course.
Julia glanced at the woman’s wrap dress and Louboutin shoes, neither of which were appropriate for this weather. Her airbrushed makeup and perfectly curled hair looked professionally done and more suited to a fancy cocktail party. But she didn’t care what this woman looked like. Nobody made Julia Fitzgerald feel unintelligent. “Should I?”
“Only if you haven’t been living in a bubble the past two years, completely unaware of one of the biggest pro baseball scandals of the twenty-first century. My news station reported on it nonstop for twenty-eight days straight.” Erica looked at Kane’s stony expression, probably ensuring she had a captive audience, before continuing. “Allow me to fill you in, cupcake.”
Living in a bubble? The words were like a slap across Julia’s face because that’s precisely what she’d been doing these past months.
“First of all—” Julia rose to her full height in her strappy evening shoes and squared her shoulders, her years of poise lessons coming in handy “—it’s Doctor, not cupcake. Second of all, no, I don’t have a clue who you are because I don’t sit in front of my television set all day, watching newscasters speculate about sports scandals. I’m a neurosurgeon, and I’m too busy saving lives instead of trying to wreak havoc on everyone else’s.”
Clearly Erica wasn’t used to having to back down, because she placed her hands on her hips and shot back, “It doesn’t matter how many lives you save, cupcake. Kane Chatterson was once considered the MVP of the single world. You’re just another stat on his score card.”
The woman turned on her designer heel and made a regal retreat to a nondescript rental car. As Erica opened the door, she looked over her shoulder and called out, “When you’re ready to return to the real world, Kane, give me a call.”
“Not a chance,” Kane said, pulling Julia in even tighter.
As Erica’s car kicked up dirt and gravel, Julia’s evening bag vibrated on the entry table where she must have left it last night.
“Did you see it, Sug?” Freckles asked the second Julia answered the phone.
“See what?”
“Your picture with Kane is all over the news. He’s got his arm around you, and you’re all cozied up. I think the word the reporter used was canoodling. Don’t that beat all?”
“What picture are you talking about, Aunt Freckles?”
“The one that kid snapped last night. I followed him to the bathroom, but Cessy told me I couldn’t go inside to make a scene. Ch
ief Cooper went in there to reason with the teen, but the thing had already been posted all over social media. Then Commodore Russell flushed the poor kid’s phone down the toilet and all hell broke loose.”
“Who’s Commodore Russell?” Julia asked, then shook her head, keeping the phone to her ear as she turned toward the man hovering beside her. “Wait. That’s not important. Who are you, Kane?”
“Did you go home with Kane, Sug?” Freckles asked. “Put him on.”
“He can’t talk right now,” she replied, then gasped at her inadvertent admission. “I’ll call you back later,” Julia told her aunt, then tapped the red end button.
“I’m guessing that was Freckles?”
“You’re guessing right. Now tell me what’s going on. Who are you, Kane Chatterson?”
“You haven’t told her?” A voice came from the cell phone and Julia realized that instead of hanging up, she’d actually put the thing on speaker.
“No, Freckles, I thought she knew,” Kane said. “It wasn’t like everyone else in town wasn’t broadcasting it everywhere I went.”
“Knew what?” Julia was cold, she’d barely had any sleep last night and she was starting to get hungry. And if she didn’t get some answers soon, she’d be trembling with anger.
“I’ll explain everything when we get in the car.”
“I’m not getting in any car with you until you tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re taking the car?” Freckles asked through the speaker. “Wait until I tell Cessy and Kylie. He must be serious about you, Sug, if he’s taking you out in the car.”
“I simply grabbed the wrong keys, Freckles. Your niece will call you back later.” Kane took the phone from Julia’s hand and really disconnected the call this time. “We should probably go check on Mr. Donut.”
Right. Their dog. Julia followed him past his truck, over to the building she’d assumed was some sort of equestrian stable when they’d driven up last night. He punched in a code on the keypad, and when the electric door rolled open, she saw the building was actually a garage.
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