Banishing thoughts of her father, Angie brushed her hair over her shoulder. J.T.’s gaze lowered briefly before he grabbed the other cookie, wolfed it down and then finished off the glass of milk.
“Would you mind if I start using the kitchen?” she asked. “I’d like to make some of my grandmother’s recipes.”
“Have at it. I’m not as bad of a cook as my mom may have led you to believe, but it’s not something I enjoy doing.”
“I enjoy it. It relaxes me.” Angie couldn’t tear her gaze from J.T. as he moved to the sink and, with quick efficient movements, rinsed his glass, then put it in the dishwasher. Good Lord. He even completed simple chores with athletic grace. “My grandmother was a marvelous cook. I have all her recipes. Some of them I haven’t made in years because my stove was so small.”
“If you want to test them out I’ll be more than happy to be your guinea pig.” He looked at her and grinned devilishly. “I love to eat. My family calls me the human garbage disposal.”
Angie laughed. “I did notice you had three helpings of the tri-tip tonight.”
“I’m in training. I need the protein.” J.T. put his hand on his hips. The stance drew her eyes to his ripped abs. He had a stomach she could bounce a quarter off of. Was it her imagination or was he in even better shape than the night they’d slept together? Was that even possible?
“What about carbs?” she asked before her thoughts could venture into dangerous territory. “Do you eat bread and pasta?”
“I eat everything.” J.T.’s mouth twisted with a grimace. “Except anchovies.”
Angie wrinkled her nose. “That’s one thing I haven’t had a craving for. The smell of them makes me gag.”
“Hey, how’s the morning sickness?” he asked with evident concern.
“Much better. I haven’t vomited in two days. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the puking has ended for good.”
J.T. threw his head back and laughed. Angie chuckled, amazed they were having such a normal conversation considering he was half naked and she had absolutely nothing on underneath her robe.
“I’m gonna hit the sack,” J.T. said, glancing at the clock on the microwave. “Are you coming up?”
“Yes. I think I can sleep now.” Yeah. Right. Who was she kidding? Sleep would be even harder to come by now.
She preceded him out of the kitchen, acutely aware of him following behind her. Her body seemed attuned to his and, with each step up the staircase, she couldn’t help but imagine him following her into her room, slipping her robe from her body and then instructing her to sit on the edge of the bed. Her pulse pounded an erratic rhythm as she pictured watching him as he peeled off his sweats to stand before her in all his masculine glory.
A fiery ball of need gathered low in her belly as she took her fantasy even further. With raw sexual heat burning in his eyes, J.T. would kneel before her, glide his big strong hands over her thighs and then gently part them to reveal her hot, throbbing pussy to his gaze. Then with deliberate intent, he would lean forward and—
Angie gasped as her foot slipped on the edge of the top stair and she lost her balance. Falling backward, she cried out in surprise as J.T.’s arms snaked around her waist and caught her.
“I’ve got you,” J.T. said, his breath warm on her ear. That coupled with the heat of his skin as her body pressed against his sent a carnal yearning ricocheting through her body like one of those old-fashioned pinball machines. “You okay?” he asked as he guided her from the top step to the landing.
“I-I’m fine,” she whispered, wholly aware that his arms were still around her and her body was pressed intimately against his.
“Be careful on those stairs,” he said in a low husky voice and then relinquished his hold on her. Torn between relief and disappointment, she took a step forward to put some space between them.
“I will,” she said and turned. “Thanks for saving me.”
“No problem.” He grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He headed down the hall, then stopped and looked back at her, his eyes solemn. “Angie, I know this is an adjustment for both of us. If there’s anything I can do to help make it easier, I hope you’ll let me know.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Thirty minutes later, Angie was back in bed and still unable to sleep. How could she when she couldn’t seem to get that darn fantasy out of her mind. The problem wasn’t the fantasy, they were healthy and normal. The problem was, with J.T. just yards away, she wasn’t at all sure she could settle for fantasies. Not when the real thing was just down the hall.
Chapter Nine
Feeling like a fraud, and an uncomfortable one at that, Angie opened the dressing room door and stepped out into the bridal shop’s private viewing area wearing the fourth wedding gown the salon’s consultant had selected for her to try on. As she moved, the rustle of the floor length taffeta skirt reminded her of the crunching sound dry leaves made when they were stepped on. Not exactly the kind of entrance a bride wanted to make on her wedding day.
Even before she’d taken it off the hanger she’d known the dress wasn’t for her. For one thing, it was way too formal and for another, the long lace sleeves made her arms itch like crazy. But since J.T.’s mother had insisted on helping her find a wedding dress, and Angie really liked Sharon, she felt obligated to try on every single dress the consultant had recommended.
“Well, that’s hideous.” Sharon peered at her intently from one of the pink satin brocade covered chairs opposite the dressing room.
Relieved, Angie heaved a sigh. “Thank God, you think so too.”
With a tilt of her head, Sharon surveyed Angie from head to toe. “Honestly, I don’t like anything you’ve tried on so far. Each dress has overwhelmed you.” She put a finger to her chin and tapped. “With your height and slender frame, I’m thinking something simpler is in order.”
“I agree. I’d prefer something shorter and sleeveless.” Angie tugged the sleeves, dying to get out of the dress. “This lace is killing me.”
With a sympathetic nod, Sharon stood. “I saw a dress in the showroom that just might work. Why don’t you take off that monstrosity and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
After Sharon left the room, Angie hurried back into the dressing room and removed the offending gown. While waiting for Sharon to return, she couldn’t help but check out her reflection in the three-way mirror. Slender frame? Yeah, maybe from the front her body still looked the same, but the side view told a different story. Her baby bump was a bit more pronounced than it had been last week and her breasts were definitely fuller. Still, at this point, and with her clothes on, her condition wasn’t blatantly obvious. But in another month, anyone looking at her would be able to tell she was pregnant.
Angie rested her hand on her rounded belly. Pregnant. It still seemed so surreal and so…so terrifying. From all accounts, childbirth was extremely painful and, with her luck, she’d probably be in hard labor for days. She wasn’t afraid of pain; in fact, she had a high tolerance for it. Just a year ago she’d pitched six innings with a sprained wrist. It wasn’t her pitching hand, but it was still painful each time she had to use her glove. But a sprained wrist and pushing something the size of a small watermelon out of her vagina were two totally different things.
Not being able to play softball was another casualty of being pregnant, and one she wasn’t happy with. The game had been a part of her life since she’d been a kid and not only did she enjoy it, it was good exercise. What was she going to do to stay active now? Most exercise was boring. At least softball was fun.
A good five minutes passed before Sharon returned. After taking the newly selected dress from her and closing the door, Angie held it up and smiled. Now this was more like it. All the other dresses looked like just what they were—elaborate wedding gowns. This one, an ivory tea length halter dress with a beaded bodice and an empire waist, while informal, was absolutely exquisite.
Sharon has excellent taste, Angie thou
ght after she’d pulled it on, zipped it and viewed her reflection in the mirror. It was perfect, just perfect, and for one brief moment she forgot why she was marrying J.T. and got caught up in the beauty of the dress.
“What’s the verdict?” Sharon called from the other side of the door. “Does it fit? Do you need a different size?”
Angie opened the door and faced her future mother-in-law. “It’s gorgeous,” she said, brushing back her hair back and turning around in a circle to show off the dress.
Sharon’s eyes welled with tears and she put a hand to her chest. “Oh my.”
“Are you okay?” Concerned, Angie reached out and put her hand on Sharon’s arm. “Do you want to sit down?”
“No.” Sharon blinked. “I’m fine. It’s just…you look so beautiful. Like an angel.”
Angie’s face flushed with warmth; no doubt, she was blushing. “Thank you.”
“You’ll need a halter bra.” Sharon’s gaze lowered to her chest, then lifted. “And maybe instead of a veil, we could pull your hair back with some jewel clips. And what about shoes? Do you have shoes?”
“No,” Angie said as she glimpsed the price tag and cold reality smacked her in the face. One of her goals before the end of her two years with J.T. was to add to her savings account not squander it on a dress she’d only wear once.
“They’ve got shoes here.” Sharon paused. “Oh, and the dress and the shoes are a gift from me to you.”
Angie lifted a hand in protest. “Sharon, that’s so generous of you, but I couldn’t possibly accept something so extravagant.”
“Yes, you can. And you will.” Sharon patted Angie’s arm. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
“But you’ve already arranged for the wedding in Tahoe,” Angie said, feeling guiltier by the second that Sharon was so caught up in a wedding that was nothing more than a business arrangement. “I don’t deserve all of this.”
Sharon’s eyes softened. “Yes, you do. Oh, honey, I know the circumstances are far from normal, but that doesn’t mean you deserve to get married in a musty old courtroom. We’re talking about your wedding day. A day you and J.T. will remember for the rest of your lives. Let me help make it special. Because you do deserve it. You really do.”
Angie’s eyes blurred with tears. As bizarre as the thought was, she wished her mother felt the same way. But she didn’t. She still believed Angie was making a mistake and had declined to attend the wedding. Lake Tahoe was too far to drive, she’d said. And Livvie would be back in school and Selena didn’t want her missing any days. They were excuses. Excuses her mother wouldn’t have made if Scott was the groom instead of J.T.
Damn it. Why was she getting all weepy? It wasn’t like she and J.T. were in love. And if her mother did attend the wedding, she might accidentally spill the beans about the sham marriage. For everyone’s sake, that couldn’t happen.
“Let me do this for you, Angie. Please.”
Angie nodded and blinked away her tears, unable to disappoint the woman with whom, in just two short days, she’d forged an unexpected connection. So far nothing was turning out like she’d planned. Somewhere, Grandma Sophia was saying—you know what they say about best laid plans.
A smile wreathed Sharon’s face. “Okay, now that you’ve found the perfect dress, let’s find the perfect pair of shoes.”
* * *
The following Tuesday, after finishing his last set of biceps curls, J.T. replaced the bar bell on the rack, picked up his towel and sports drink bottle and went in search of his brother. Although it was noon—a prime workout time on weekdays—the gym was fairly quiet. The reason for that, J.T. surmised, was due to Thanksgiving. The place would be dead until January when everyone woke from their holiday stupor and realized they’d gained weight. Then, in a mad frenzy, they’d hit the gym hard to try to undo the damage caused by the turkey, stuffing and pie.
As expected, he found Jake in his office just off the main entrance. The door was open but J.T. stopped short when he saw Jake wasn’t alone. Sitting across from his brother at the round table next to Jake’s cluttered desk was the new member J.T. had seen Jake talking to before Thanksgiving.
“Come on in.” Jake gestured with his hand.
J.T. returned the blonde’s friendly smile, then looked at Jake. “Are you sure? I can come back.”
Jake leaned back in his chair which, judging by the creaking noise it made, could use a liberal dose of WD-40. “Melissa and I were just finishing up.” He looked at the blonde. “Melissa, this is my brother…”
“J.T. Sawyer. I recognized you immediately,” Melissa said as she shifted in the chair, tugging at her T-shirt the same self-conscious way Jake used to do before he’d lost weight. “Congrats on the World Series win.”
“Thanks.” J.T. grinned. Damn, but hearing that never got old. “You’re new here, right?”
“Yes. I was just talking to your brother about his personal training package.”
J.T. flung his towel over his shoulder and rested against the door frame. “Well, if you’re into torture then Jake’s your man.”
“Don’t listen to him, Melissa,” Jake said with a smirk. “J.T.’s in the best shape of his life because of me.”
“It’s just like you to take all the credit,” J.T. shot back. “I’m the one doing all the work.”
“But I’m the one who identified the weaknesses in your old routine that were preventing you from making any progress.”
“Who said I wasn’t making progress?” J.T. demanded.
“You did. You’re the one who asked me to train you during the off season, remember?”
J.T. clamped his mouth shut. Shit. There was no arguing that. His brother had not only changed up his weight training regimen, but had varied his cardio workouts as well. The results had been almost immediate.
“And I guess that settles that,” Melissa said and stood up. Again, she tugged at her black T-shirt—this time pulling the hem down over her ample hips. Jake said she had a pretty face and he’d been right. Her light brown eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked between him and Jake. “You two remind me of me and my sister.” She reached for the pink water bottle on Jake’s desk. “I’m off to do my cardio.”
“Give the elliptical a try,” Jake advised as J.T. stepped aside to let her pass. “The best way to keep from getting bored is to switch it up. Once I start working with you, we’ll talk about things you can do outside the gym to get your heart rate up and in your target zone.”
“I can’t wait for the torture to begin.” Melissa winked at J.T. and left the office.
J.T. laughed and moved to the chair she’d vacated. “So Melissa signed up for personal training?”
Jake closed the file on the table in front of him and nodded. “Our first session is next week.”
“She’ll be a knockout once she loses some weight.”
“What’s more important is that she’ll lower her risk for life threatening illnesses such as heart disease and diabetes,” Jake said with a frown that J.T. found puzzling. It wasn’t like his comment was an insult.
“That goes without saying.” J.T. relaxed in the chair. “So we’re set for Friday, right? I can’t get married without a best man.”
“Will I have the honor of meeting the bride before the wedding, or do I have to wait until she’s at the altar?” Jake’s frown had turned to a scowl and his tone was edged with sarcasm. “Or maybe you’d prefer me to wait until your kid is born.”
J.T. shifted uncomfortably. His brother was none too happy to have been kept out of the loop. “I wanted to tell you, but things were up in the air with Angie so I decided to wait until things were finalized.”
“Well, now I know why you’ve been so preoccupied.” Jake leaned forward and folded his arms on his desk. “You could have talked to me, you know. I would have kept it between us.”
“It’s not that I didn’t trust you. It all happened so fast. When Angie told me she was pregnant, I was blown away.” J.T. shook his head.
“Man, Dad was right. It only takes one time.”
“One time?” Jake straightened in his chair. “You were with her only once?” he asked incredulously. “Mom said you’ve known Angie for two years.”
“I said I met her two years ago. I never said we’ve been dating the whole time.”
“That’s not what Mom and Dad think.”
J.T. shrugged and popped the top of his bottle. “I can’t help what they believe.”
“But you didn’t set them straight.”
“And I’m not going to. Dad was quick to suspect that Angie is using me for my money and that’s not the case. And for the record, she didn’t even want to marry me at first.”
“What changed her mind?”
“I’m sure the fact she got laid off from her job was a deciding factor. But she’s not out to fleece me, if that’s what you’re thinking.” J.T. chugged the flavored sports drink and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Seeing Jake’s skeptical gaze, he decided to come clean. “Angie and I have an arrangement.”
Jake’s brows knitted. “An arrangement? What does that mean?”
“It means that she and I have agreed to stay married for two years. We both get what we want.”
“And what’s that?”
“Angie doesn’t have to worry about a roof over her head or paying her medical bills.”
“And what do you get out of this arrangement?”
“I know a lot of guys don’t care about having a kid when they’re not married, but I do.”
Jake cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure this is just a business deal?”
“What else would it be?” J.T. paused. “I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us. I don’t want Angie worrying about what the rest of the family thinks about her. Neither of us thought about protection the night we were together.”
“I won’t say anything,” Jake said. “But are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, I’m sure. And so is Angie.” J.T. tamped down his irritation. He was tired of justifying their marriage. “We’re doing what’s right for the baby.”
Catching Heat Page 11