Cutler shook his head. “Tea’s fine for now.”
“Okay,” she responded with raised eyebrows.
He made an awkward attempt to clear his throat. “Mom.”
“What?” Her lips twitched.
“I need to talk to you about a subject you’re not going to like.” Cutler watched her closely. Although she frowned, her features weren’t at all guarded. She looked as relaxed and unperturbed as ever.
“You can talk to me about anything. You know that.”
“I hope you’ll still feel that way after we’re done.”
Her frown deepened. “What’s going on, son? Just spit it out. You know how I am about playing cat and mouse. Your father does that, and it drives me crazy.”
Still Cutler hesitated, his gut twisted in a knot while sweat oozed out of him as if he’d just run a marathon. “Why didn’t you tell me Trevor isn’t my real father?”
Mary didn’t so much as blink, much less flinch. She sat as tall and confident as ever. Cutler hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this unemotional reaction. Either Benton was full of shit or his mother had nerves of steel.
“Mom,” Cutler pressed gently, “I want an answer.”
“That question doesn’t warrant an answer.” Her calm still didn’t waver.
“So Trevor is my real dad?”
Mary looked him straight in the eye. “Absolutely.”
“His name is listed on my birth certificate, right?”
Several drumbeats of silence.
“What’s this all about, Cutler?”
Was he seeing the first chink in the armor? His insides twisted another notch. “The truth. Getting to the truth.”
Mary stood and walked to the French doors. For the longest time Cutler stared at her back, feeling as if he’d been tossed in the ocean without a life jacket. Suddenly he didn’t know if he was capable of continuing this charade. He was tempted to tell Benton to take his best shot and let the bullets fall where they may.
But what if his mother ended up in the line of fire and took a fatal hit?
If there was even the slightest chance of that, he couldn’t take the risk.
“I’m not letting you off the hook.” Cutler kept his tone calm and soft. But God, he was struggling to temper his raw emotions. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep a lid on them.
Mary swung around, her face totally devoid of color. To Cutler, she looked as if someone had cut her throat and left her to bleed. His fear heightened. “Mom, I—”
She held out her hand, stopping him midsentence. “I think you should go.”
“I’m not budging.” He hadn’t meant to say that, to take such a hard stance. But under the circumstances, he saw no other way. The damage was done.
“Then I’ll leave.”
“Mom, please,” he said in a pleading tone. “You owe me the truth.”
“I don’t owe you anything, Cutler,” she countered in a chilled tone, “except love and respect. And you have both.”
“It’s not that simple. Life’s not that simple.”
“It is to me.” Her eyes challenged him to deny that.
He couldn’t. But whether she loved or respected him was not the issue here, and she knew it. Getting her to admit that, however, was another matter.
Hence Cutler fought hard to curb his mounting anger and frustration. He hadn’t wanted to get into this kind of verbal slinging match with her. He’d chosen his words with the utmost care. But somehow his best intentions had fallen short, and he was at a loss as to what to say or do next.
A situation he detested. Especially with his beloved mother.
“I went to see Trevor.”
Her face whitened even more. “He didn’t tell you anything.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I’m getting tired. I should go to bed.”
“Is Drew Rush my father?”
It happened so fast, he didn’t have time to move. Mary’s eyes rolled back in her head and she started to fold like an accordion.
“Mom!” he cried, catching her just before she hit the floor.
Kaylee was the only one left in the office. She had planned to go home much earlier, only it hadn’t worked out that way. One project had led to another and before she knew it, twilight had replaced the sunlight.
Her body bore testimony to the long day. Her limp was much more pronounced than it had been in a long time. Still, she had managed to get some things that had been bugging her marked off her “to-do list.”
Now, though, she was ready to call it a day after one last sweep of the dressing room to make sure no garments were left strewn on the floor. No matter how hard she or Sandy preached, there was always at least one slob in the group who just didn’t get it.
Sure enough, the slob was in evidence this evening. Several outfits were piled on a chair in one corner. Knowing it was useless to get her blood pressure up over a problem that was ongoing, Kaylee merely walked over, grabbed the garments and made her way to the closet.
She was hanging up a pair of overalls when she noticed a bulge in one of the many pockets. Thinking it was a wadded-up tissue, Kaylee reached inside. Even then she didn’t realize what she had in her hand until she pulled the item out.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, though not really believing what she was seeing.
Pills.
Nestled in the palm of her hand was a packet of what looked to be prescription drugs. If they had all been the same kind, she might not have thought anything about it. But they weren’t. They were different colors, different shapes, different sizes.
A variety of drugs.
She felt her heart pound against her rib cage, further weakening her limbs. Before she lost her balance, Kaylee sat in the chair, feeling drained.
What did this mean? Were there more? Was this packet just the tip of the iceberg?
Unable or unwilling to answer those questions at this point, Kaylee rummaged through the rest of the clothes.
Seconds later she had unearthed four more packets of pills. Kaylee didn’t know which emotion took precedence—boiling rage or acute despair. But since she needed a clear head so that she could think, she pushed both emotions aside.
She had known drugs and anorexia were common problems among models, but her agency had always stressed the importance of the whole person, of making the inside as beautiful as the outside.
She was adamant that all girls maintain their health in body and spirit and not sacrifice either for a page in a magazine or a walk down an aisle. Her philosophy had served her well.
Until now.
The big question was how to deal with this latest kick in the teeth. She told herself that after she’d had a bath and a good night’s sleep she’d come up with a strategy.
Ha.
Fifteen minutes later, Kaylee turned into her drive, only to receive her second shock of the evening.
She braked suddenly, her heart slamming into the back of her throat.
Twenty-Two
Cutler knew he shouldn’t have come to her place. Yet here he was camped out at her house, waiting for her to come home.
What did that say about him?
He wasn’t sure he could answer that question even if he dug deep into his soul, prepared to be brutally honest with himself. At this point he simply wasn’t up to that task. Despite the disruption to his life that had all to do with her, there was something about Kaylee that not only turned him on sexually but affected him emotionally.
A haven in the time of a storm.
Was that crazy or what? Especially when she was at the eye of the storm.
He should be at the hospital with his mother. After all, it was his fault she was there.
After she had passed out in his arms, he’d called 911, then Trevor. By the time the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Mary had regained consciousness and was insisting on going back home.
Both he and Trevor, however, had remained united in their effort to see
that at least the E.R. doctor examined her. Her cardiologist had been called, and he had said flatly that she wouldn’t be going home before the next morning.
Later, after Mary was settled in a room and resting, he had told Trevor what had happened. His dad hadn’t been happy and wasted no time in taking Cutler to task.
“I told you to leave it be, boy.” His features were hard with worry. “Now see what you’ve done.”
“Even though I’m sorry as hell about what happened, I had to ask.”
“Well, don’t ask again,” Trevor had said coldly, then added, “When she wakes up, I think it’d be best if you weren’t here. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Realizing if he hung around he’d definitely be adding insult to injury, he’d hauled it. Straight to Kaylee.
Along with simply seeing her, he wanted to know the truth about her involvement in her father’s scheme. While Edgar had vehemently denied her culpability, he wasn’t so sure. The more he’d thought about it, the more convinced he’d become that Kaylee had to be in the know.
Too bad his heart didn’t agree with his head.
He knew Kaylee was fiercely independent and proud, two characteristics he admired most about her. He felt that and her fighting spirit would have stopped Edgar from continuing down such a crazy path.
Yet he couldn’t discuss the horrifying situation with her. The risk to his mother was too great. His heart had skipped several beats when he saw her car arrive home. What was he going to say to her?
Their last time together had left him with a physical longing that had shocked him, especially after the visit from her father. One would have thought he’d want to be as far away from her as possible, that the sight of her would repulse him.
Was that why he was here? To test his response to her? No. As crazy as it was, he knew he wanted her.
The second she got out of the car and leaned against it, he felt that stirring in his loins.
Staring at him wide-eyed, Kaylee said, “I should ask what you’re doing here.”
“Are you? Asking, that is?”
“No.”
“Thanks,” he muttered brusquely, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”
“Am I that easy to read, even in the moonlight?”
“Yes.”
He tried to smile. “I’m not sure that’s good.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Does that mean you’re going to let me in?”
“Should I?”
“Probably not,” he said with tormented but blatant honesty.
He hadn’t touched her, but it was all he could do not to grab her, yank her against him, then kiss her until she begged for mercy.
As if she could read his mind, he heard her sharp intake of breath. But then she turned and made her way toward the front door. Once inside, she flipped a switch and a lamp bathed the room in soft light.
“I’ll get us something to drink.”
He grabbed her hand. “Forget it.” His voice was deep and thick.
“Then have a seat.” She swallowed hard. “I need a minute.”
“Hurry,” he said huskily, then eased onto the sofa, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
She wasn’t gone but fifteen minutes. Even so, she made good use of the time, stripping off her clothes and stepping into the shower. She had felt dirty after finding the pills, as if she needed a good cleansing. More than that, she needed time alone to regroup, to gather her wits about her.
Even if her insides were quivering like jelly, she wasn’t sorry she’d invited him in. Since he’d kissed her, she had wanted to see him, had wanted to touch him. No matter how many times she had told herself he was forbidden to her, she couldn’t get him out of her head.
Ridiculous?
Of course.
Did she care?
Not tonight.
What was happening to her?
With no answers readily available, Kaylee stopped thinking. She put on a silk robe that more than covered her, then made her way back to him. It took her only a second to realize he was asleep, which gave her an opportunity to study him.
Even his dark stubble failed to hide the lines of exhaustion that were etched in his face. His clothes and hair were mussed as though he’d also had a bitch of a day. She had known the instant she saw him that something was wrong. He’d looked almost ill. And still did.
Now, as she perched beside him, though not too close, she fought the urge to reach out and smooth those lines with her fingertips. Just the thought sent erotic chills through her. Each time she saw him alone, the danger to her heart increased.
As she watched, he opened his eyes and stretched. “Sorry, I fell asleep,” he said huskily. “Been waiting long?”
“No. Actually, I just sat down.”
His eyes traveled over her. “I’m glad you got comfortable.”
She averted her gaze. “It’s been a long, hard day.”
“I know about that.”
She picked up on the bitterness in his tone and frowned. “What’s going on, Cutler?”
She heard the tremor in her voice, but couldn’t help it. She was struggling with his being there and couldn’t seem to hide it.
“It’s my mother.”
“What about her?”
“She had another spell with her heart.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yes, according to her doctor, although he’s keeping her overnight in the hospital for observation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” he said in a terse tone. “Especially since it was my fault.”
“I doubt that,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“Oh, it was my fault, all right, but—” He broke off abruptly.
“But what?” she pressed.
His features twisted. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“What if I want to be burdened?”
His eyes burned into her and her heart turned over.
“You look like you haven’t had such a swell day yourself,” he said, shattering the hot moment of intimacy.
She sighed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me.”
“It’s much too complicated, Kaylee.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. Hell, I don’t even understand.”
A short silence fell between them.
“Back to your day,” he finally said, his eyes trapping hers again. “I’ve never seen dark circles under your eyes.”
“The day’s been a bitch. I—” This time her voice failed. Though she knew she was going to have to deal with the drug problem, she wasn’t ready to involve the law yet. And Cutler was the law.
“Go on.”
“Never mind.” She forced a smile.
He gave her a semblance of a grin. “You don’t want to share either.”
“Right.”
Another silence fell between them, during which Cutler reached out a finger and trailed it down one side of her cheek. Her insides fluttered.
“I want you, Kaylee,” he whispered.
“I want you, too, only—”
“Only what?”
She moved her head from side to side, tears perilously close. “You…you don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
The same finger that trailed her cheek now made its way down her neck into the V of her robe. She stiffened when that calloused fingertip grazed the tops of her breasts. Her breath rushed in and out of her lungs.
“I would never hurt you,” he said, his eyes darkening. “I want to make slow, passionate love to you.” He reached for one of her hands and placed it over the hard mound behind his zipper. “That says it all.”
“Cutler—”
“You just said you wanted that, too.”
“I do, but…” Her voice played out again while her blood beat like a drum in her ears.
A hand gently parted her robe,
exposing her. “Your breasts are beautiful,” he said in a strained whisper. “They’re firm, like newly ripened peaches.”
“Oh, Cutler, I couldn’t stand it if you felt sorry for me.”
His hand stilled and he frowned. “Is that what this is all about? You think I feel sorry for you because you have a limp?”
“No, because I’m…I’m scarred.”
“Scarred?”
She nodded, dislodging a tear.
“God, it’s okay,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her close against him.
“No, it’s not okay,” she said in a muffled cry, her throat pulsating painfully.
“Kaylee, look at me.” He pulled slightly back and lifted her chin.
Their eyes met and held, tighter than magnets.
“I’m going to take your robe off.”
The fear of him seeing the rest of her body sliced through her like a jagged shard of glass.
“Cutler, please—”
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s going to be all right. Perfect, in fact.”
She didn’t know which was hotter, his hands or his eyes. But both were powerful and persuasive, rendering her useless.
He lifted her to her feet, then pushed the robe off her shoulders, sending it pooling around her feet.
“Oh, no,” she whimpered, grasping at it to cover herself.
“Don’t.” He trapped her hands to her sides as his eyes slowly perused her body, seemingly not missing one ounce of flesh.
“I told you I was scarred,” she whispered through the tears now clogging her throat.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of her and began kissing the welts that crisscrossed her stomach. A moan started low inside her as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Wordlessly he rose and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Then he eased her down beside him on the sofa.
It was moments later that her fingers began playing havoc with him. She found, then fumbled with his zipper. His response was to deepen the kiss before helping her release his penis from the confines of his pants.
With their eyes locked, he lifted her onto the throbbing head.
Evening Hours Page 15