Players

by Rachel Cross

  With a sigh, he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I came back once before and managed to not end up in the paper. Clearly I wasn’t so lucky this time.”

  Michael paused, turned his head and stared pointedly at Cat. He was playing with fire and ought to leave well enough alone. Getting involved while he was here wasn’t a good idea. Never mind he had to leave when he said he was. He had an interview with a large biker magazine the first of next month. He’d recently built a few custom bikes for a couple of big name celebrities, and the publication wanted to do an article on him. It meant more promotion for the shop. For the first time in his life, he’d made a name for himself separate from his family.

  Getting involved with her beyond last night wasn’t a good idea, yet the words fell from his mouth anyway. “Both of you are more than welcome.”

  He prayed she understood his silent invitation, that she’d be at the barbeque, because he had to know. He wanted to find out if knowing what he’d done changed her view of him. In an effort to sympathize and be supportive, the article still told a secret he’d rather forget. It was important Cat know he was the same man from last night. For the first time in a long time, someone else’s opinion of him mattered.

  • • •

  Standing in the shadows of the gazebo, Cat gripped the wooden banister as she scanned the sea of people lining the park across the street. Celebrations were always a big deal in Crest Point, and the Fourth of July was no exception. Clowns roamed around with balloons for the kids. Vendors of every kind lined the sidewalk. The scents of burning charcoal, grilling meat, popcorn and cotton candy all floated on the light, warm breeze. There was a general hum of quiet chatter, occasionally interrupted by children’s giggles and squeals, lending the night an air of energy and excitement.

  She couldn’t share that sense. Once again, her life had become a three-ring circus. A week had passed since Michael showed up in the bookstore. Since the newspaper photo. Every day she’d gotten more calls. Her phone rang at all hours of the day and night, sometimes as late as two in the morning. They were always the same—creepy, heavy breathing. At first, she and Lisa put them off as pranks, assuming some kid was getting his jollies. Now she was beginning to wonder. They’d begun calling her cell, too, and had increased in sheer number until she was fielding sometimes two and three per hour. Maybe she was paranoid, but it sure seemed like someone was stalking her.

  “Anybody ever call you Kitty?”

  Michael’s rich baritone voice shivered all the way down her spine, weakening her knees, and Cat’s grip tightened on the wooden banister. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he left her father’s bookshop last week. Since he’d invited her to his parents’ barbeque.

  She darted a glance back. His shadowy form filled the gazebo’s entrance. Every inch of her tingled with awareness. She hadn’t been able to stop craving being near him, longed to be back in the blissful place where there was only him and her. Before the real world had entered her fantasy, shattering what the night had been.

  Suddenly there he was, close enough to touch.

  “You weren’t at the barbecue. I was hoping you’d be there.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” She’d seen the unmistakable longing in his eyes, the silent question when he invited her father. She’d almost gone. She ached for the knowledge—to see his life, where and how he lived. To learn about his character, how he interacted with his family. To see the man behind the façade. All things words could never describe. “If I’m being honest, I was afraid to come.”

  The desire to see him had been overwhelming. It meant he’d become more important than he should have, that she was beginning to allow herself to think of him beyond the one night, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.

  A loose board creaked beneath his weight, and Cat gripped the rail tighter, her ears homing in on the sound of his footsteps growing nearer. Every shuffle of his boots across the planks made her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest.

  When the creaking stopped, his heat radiated against her back, sending goose bumps shivering along her skin. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t have to. His closeness, his very presence, electrified her nerve endings and her body hummed with need to feel the hard lines of his body molding against her back, his strong arms enveloping her. Bringing her back to the safe, comfortable place, where she could be whoever she wanted without worrying what part of her mother’s past hung over her head.

  “Afraid of what?” His voice came as quiet as the night, but it was oddly calm and soothing, returning her to the ease and comfort she felt lying in his arms.

  “Facing you.” The ease with which the words fell from her lips surprised her. How much she wanted, needed, to finally answer the question that burned within her. “I wasn’t completely honest with you either that morning. You hid your identity from me that night for the anonymity. The chance to be just yourself.”

  “Yes.”

  “So did I. My whole life I’ve been tainted by the life my mother chose. When I moved into town nine years ago, it got bad. Kids are kids, you know? But I was tired of it, so I left. When I came back three years ago, people had finally forgotten and moved on. Now there’s a picture of us in the paper and people are going to start putting two and two together.”

  “And?”

  She drew in a shaky breath. She owed him the truth. “My mother . . . is the woman who had an affair with your grandfather. When their affair came out, it was all over the country. I imagine it created quite the scandal for your family. I doubt your parents want you to be seen with me. I can only imagine what people will say, what they’re already saying.”

  Michael’s hands slipped from hers, both arms wrapping tightly around her, encompassing her in his powerful embrace.

  He turned his head, his voice low in her ear. “Ask me if I give a damn what everyone thinks.”

  A shiver raked the length of her spine, a sense of relief flooding her system. There was the bad boy she’d been so attracted to. She turned in his arms. Another rocket exploded in the night air, sending myriad colors washing across his features.

  Another flash lit his face in blue, white, and red, illuminating his eyes. The intensity there made her tremble.

  “You’re right. It was a scandal my folks spent a lot of money trying to smooth over. Life became all about putting out the right image. I didn’t help matters any. I’ve got things I’m not proud of, either, Cat. Demons that haunt me. That damn article outlined it all. It’s why I don’t come back to this town much.” His voice lowered, softened to a bare whisper. “I’ve spent years trying to forget, but here, in Crest Point, the memories are stronger. I can’t run from them here.”

  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 he
r 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?”

  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 libi
do 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.”