Catching Heat

by Alison Packard

  Angie grimaced and pressed a finger to her temple. So, she was still “Angela.” This was not starting off well.

  “Hi, Mom. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No. I’m off tonight. I was just about to watch my soap.”

  Angie smiled. Her mother was an avid viewer of A New Dawn and recorded it every day on the old VCR she refused to part with. “What’s going on with Jared and Shay?”

  “The baby was kidnapped,” her mother replied. “Someone took it from the hospital nursery.”

  “Maybe it was Stefan,” Angie ventured a guess. “The last time I watched he was pretty angry that Jared was going to raise his kid.”

  “Too obvious. My money is on that wife of his. Cassie is jealous that Shay can have kids and she can’t.”

  “You’re probably right. Cassie’s such a bitch. I wouldn’t put it past her.”

  There was silence and then it was as if their familiar routine of discussing the soap opera hadn’t even happened. “Why are you calling?” Selena asked in cool voice.

  “I’d like you and Livvie to come to Sacramento for Christmas.” Before her mother could protest, Angie continued. “I miss you guys, Mom. I know you don’t approve of what I’m doing, but it’s the holidays and we’ve never been apart on Christmas. Can’t we get past this?”

  After a long silence, her mother finally spoke. “He’s going to hurt you, Angie. I can’t bear to see that happen.”

  “Mom, J.T. isn’t anything like I thought. But you need to find that out for yourself. Please come, give him a chance.”

  “You’re as blind as I was. He’s fooled you, just like your father fooled me,” Selena said in a voice laced with sadness. “But your sister misses you and I don’t want her to spend Christmas without you. We’ll come.”

  “That’s great,” Angie said, forcing enthusiasm. But she wasn’t excited. As much as she missed her mother and sister, knowing that her mother harbored such ill will toward J.T. sent a tremor of apprehension down her spine. She could only hope that her mother kept her feelings to herself. It wasn’t until after the conversation was over that Angie realized her mother hadn’t asked her about the baby. Her first grandchild mattered less than the bitterness she carried around like an anchor. “I’ll see you soon,” she said, and then realized she was talking to dead air. Her mother had hung up. Why wasn’t she surprised?

  “Angie,” J.T. called from upstairs. “Can you come up here for a minute?”

  Putting her mother out of her mind, she set the phone on the table and left the kitchen. As she passed through the living room, she glanced at the tree sitting in front of the window. It was still bare—they’d taken longer to select it than they’d planned and hadn’t shopped for ornaments. Decorating the tree was on the agenda for tomorrow though—after J.T. finished his training session with Jake.

  J.T. had been upstairs for almost two hours and Angie had no idea what he’d been doing. She’d heard some noises, like he was moving furniture, or something, but she’d been too busy baking to investigate.

  At the top of the stairs, she took a left and headed for J.T.’s room.

  “Wait,” he said, emerging from his room before she got to the doorway. He’d changed out of the pullover and turtleneck and now wore a faded gray T-shirt with the Blaze logo on the front. “Close your eyes,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  “Why? It’s not like I haven’t seen that disaster you call a bedroom before. You know, there’s this great invention you may have heard about. It’s called a closet.” She smiled as J.T. rolled his eyes. “It’s where you put all your clothes, shoes and other assorted junk.”

  “Close your eyes,” he repeated firmly.

  “Okay. Fine.” She dutifully closed her eyes and let J.T. lead her into the room. A familiar citrusy scent invaded her nostrils. “Have you been cleaning? It smells like…” She sniffed. “Like lemons.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  Angie opened her eyes and let out a shocked gasp as she took in the drastic change. The bed, usually unmade, was covered with a striped linen comforter in earthy sand and cream colors. At the headboard, matching shams were mixed with several throw pillows. The nightstands, both dark wood, that flanked the bed were no longer cluttered with baseball magazines and had been dusted. And there were no clothes, shoes or sport equipment to be seen anywhere. “I had no idea your bed linens were so nice.”

  “That’s because I never make my bed.” J.T. let go of her hand. “I’m not the neatest guy on the block.”

  “Really?” She smiled. “I hadn’t noticed.” Angie turned to her right and noted that he’d also cleared off the dresser that matched the nightstands. There was only one item on its gleaming surface—a framed photograph. “Is that…?” she said, moving to take a closer look. Her heart turned over. “It’s us,” she whispered, staring at the picture of them taken on their wedding day. “Where did you get it?” She turned around and met his solemn gaze.

  “Josh. He brought his camera that day, remember?”

  Angie shook her head. “I’d forgotten. How long have you had it?”

  “A few days.” He moved to stand in front of her. “You looked so beautiful. When you walked down the aisle, my heart did the same thing it did the first day I saw you.” J.T. lifted his hand to her cheek and brushed his thumb over her skin. “It stopped, and for what seemed like minutes I couldn’t breathe.”

  Angie’s heart tripped and then began to pound. I felt the same way, she wanted to say but the words wouldn’t come. They were lodged in her throat, blocked by something unlike anything she’d ever felt or imagined.

  “We’ve spent the past two nights in your bedroom. I want you in mine. Permanently.” The intimacy of his gaze warmed her like a soft caress. “Starting tonight.”

  “Is that why you cleaned?”

  “Yes, and I’ll try my best to not leave my clothes and other crap lying around.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her hers. His kiss was light and gentle as a whisper, but filled with so much tenderness she felt her heart might burst. “I want you next to me every night,” he said in a low husky voice when he pulled back.

  Myriad emotions swirled inside her, but the only one that mattered was the one she’d been unable or too afraid to acknowledge since that night in August. The one she’d been running from for most of her life. The one she could no longer deny.

  Love. She was in love with J.T.

  Tears blurred her vision until she blinked them away. “Do you promise not to hog the blanket?” she asked, and hoped J.T. wouldn’t notice her emotional reaction. He wanted her in his bed. That didn’t mean he felt the same way she did.

  “I promise.”

  “Then yes.” She smiled into his eyes. “I’ll move into your bedroom.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  For a full week, Angie had been supplying her mother-in-law with a variety of baked goods to sell in her café and so far the arrangement had been an unqualified success. A small part of her hoped that Sharon’s regular supplier would decide not to resume her baking business once her house was remodeled and Sharon would ask Angie to be her new supplier. She wasn’t surprised that she found more satisfaction in the kitchen than she ever had sitting in a cubicle paying invoices and creating accounting spreadsheets.

  Sharon had insisted on compensating her for her time, but as it was a temporary situation Angie refused to accept any money. The only thing she allowed her mother-in-law to do was pay for the ingredients, and only then because Sharon refused to take no for an answer.

  J.T. joked that the kitchen was turning into a bakery and he wasn’t far from wrong. Each evening after dinner she’d take over the kitchen while J.T. studied game film, and then when the baking was done, they’d watch television or go up to bed. Bed usually won out, but not because they were tired. She wasn’t sure if it was her pregnancy hormones or if J.T. was irresistible, but she couldn’t get enough of him. The past week had been the happiest of her life.

 
; There were only two clouds on her horizon: her mother and Justin Sawyer.

  She wouldn’t have to deal with her mother for another week, but Justin was currently in the living room with J.T. and Jake, watching a basketball game on television.

  Naively perhaps, Angie had assumed that despite his profession, Justin would be as friendly as the other Sawyers. No such luck. After their brief introduction earlier in the evening she had been acutely aware of his watchful gaze on her. She felt like she was being assessed and evaluated, much like a bug under a microscope. It was unsettling to say the least, and she’d been grateful to finally escape to the kitchen and bake.

  “It smells good in here.”

  Angie looked up to find Justin watching her from the doorway. Of all the Sawyer brothers, he was the tallest. Angie pegged him to be about six-four. Although well-built, he didn’t have the same powerful physique as J.T. Despite that, he was imposing and with his recently shorn hair and cleanly shaven face, he was the rugged-jawed poster boy for law enforcement officers everywhere. Alarm dinged in Angie’s chest as he slowly entered the kitchen with the aid of a wooden crutch tucked under his right arm.

  “I’m glad we have a minute alone. To talk.” Justin leaned on his crutch and braced his palm on the counter. Although he’d claimed not to need the crutch he was, apparently, humoring his mother. His eyes, a deep blue like Sharon and Josh’s, studied her, but she had no clue what he was thinking. His gaze gave nothing away and unnerved her. She smoothed her hands down the front of her apron and fought the urge to flee. The polite thing to do would be to invite him to sit at the table but she preferred to keep her distance with the island separating them. Call it intuition, but she was pretty sure Justin hadn’t come to the kitchen for a friendly chat.

  “My family has had the advantage of getting to know you over the past few weeks. They speak highly of you.”

  Okay, maybe she was wrong. “I think highly of them.”

  A wry smile twisted Justin’s mouth. “Of course, they’re not used to dealing with con artists.”

  Angie couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you know the difference between me and my brothers?” he continued as if he hadn’t just insulted her.

  “They’re friendly and your not?” Angie said, meeting his unreadable eyes. Her comment was rude, but he’d set the tone with the con artist remark.

  A hint of amusement tugged at his mouth. “They trust people. You know, take them at face value, never believing they could be conned or swindled.”

  “I’d say that’s a good quality,” Angie replied, holding his gaze even as her pulse raced. Not one Sawyer had ever questioned her character even if they had been suspicious about her marriage to J.T. But Justin didn’t seem to have any problem laying his cards on the table. What made it worse was that until recently she’d felt an awful lot like the con artist he suspected she might be. “Wouldn’t you?” she asked, forcing a tight smile.

  “No. It makes them easy prey for people who might try to take advantage of them.”

  Angie schooled her expression under Justin’s intense scrutiny. It was his job to look for a reaction. She wasn’t going to give him one. Thank God he couldn’t see her knees, he’d find them shaking. “You think I’m taking advantage of J.T.?”

  Justin shrugged a shoulder. “You said it, I didn’t.”

  “You implied it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Are you?” Justin’s direct gaze was hard and unyielding. “Taking advantage of him?”

  “No. I signed a pre-nuptial agreement. I’m the one who suggested it.”

  “A pre-nup is bullshit when there’s a kid involved. If you two got divorced he’d pay child support and knowing J.T. he’d be more than generous. That’s the kind of man he is.”

  “I know what kind of man he is.”

  Justin narrowed his assessing gaze even more. “Did you get pregnant on purpose? To trap him?”

  Angie silently counted to three before answering. She wouldn’t let him get to her. “No.”

  “Then why did you marry him?”

  “Because he asked and…and it was the right thing to do.”

  Justin let out a half-snort. “This isn’t the old days, Angie. A man and a woman don’t have to get married because of a baby. But I know my brother well enough to know that his first instinct would be to marry you. He’s noble like that. Maybe you knew that too.

  “You aren’t at all like your brothers or your parents,” she snapped.

  “Is that your way of saying you’re insulted?” he asked with a sarcastic smile. “I’m a cop and therefore suspicious by nature. I also love my brothers and anyone who takes advantage of them, or hurts them, answers to me.” He paused for a beat. “Are we clear?”

  “I don’t plan on hurting J.T.” Despite the thundering of her heart, Angie lifted her chin and held his gaze with a mutinous one of her own. “I care about him.”

  Several tense seconds passed. Seconds that seemed to stretch forever. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  * * *

  “It was about time you got some new furniture,” Justin said as he hobbled into the living room. “That green thing you called a couch was way past its expiration date.”

  J.T. gave Jake a long stare as Jake shot him an “I told you so” look. “You’re one to talk. You live in a studio apartment with nothing more than a bed to sit on,” he said and watched Justin ease himself down on the light brown leather captain’s chair adjacent to the matching couch.

  After seeing Angie’s apartment in San Francisco, J.T. thought she would go for something more feminine but she’d surprised him by agreeing with his choice. The set was on sale and available for immediate delivery, just in time for the holidays. They’d also purchased a glass topped coffee table, two end tables and two lamps. According to Angie, the room still needed a few small touches and something on the walls, but it looked a damn sight better than it had. Especially with the brightly lit Christmas tree placed in front of the window.

  “I’m not home much.” Justin laid his crutch next to the chair. He leaned back and grinned. “And when I’m there, I’m either sleeping or…”

  “Entertaining your latest bimbo?” Jake, who was sitting on the end of the couch closest to Justin, said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. It was common knowledge that Justin’s taste in women leaned toward the easy variety. Easy as in not quite suitable to bring home to meet their parents.

  “What can I say? Chicks dig me.” Justin pointed at Jake. “What about you, little brother? You’re surrounded by hot women all day at the gym. Don’t tell me you’re not hitting some of that.”

  “I make it a rule not to date my members.”

  “Don’t shit where you eat, right?” Justin nodded. “That’s probably wise.”

  J.T. frowned. “Then why did you meet Melissa for coffee last night?”

  Jake’s brow lifted. “How’d you know about that?”

  “She mentioned it to Angie.”

  “It wasn’t a date,” Jake said quickly. “We were going over her training schedule.”

  “Couldn’t you do that at the gym?” Justin asked.

  “Yes, but it worked better for Melissa’s schedule to meet after I was off work.”

  J.T. inclined his head toward at Justin, who gave him a knowing grin, and then looked at Jake. “You could have done it over the phone.”

  “I prefer to discuss training issues in person.” Jake scrubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s not a big deal. I want Melissa to succeed. She’s had a weight problem since she was a kid and since I struggled with it when I was younger, I can relate.”

  “You two are such fucking boy scouts.” Justin stretched out his injured leg and grimaced. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m adopted.”

  “It would explain a lot,” Jake shot back. “Hey, where’s my beer?”

  “What beer?”

  “The beer you went into the kitchen for.” Jake scowled and pus
hed up from the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  After Jake left the room, J.T. narrowed his gaze on Justin. “Did you go in there to interrogate Angie?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you think she had some sort of ulterior motive in marrying me. She didn’t. You need to leave it alone.”

  “How much do you know about her?”

  “Enough. She’s my wife and I trust her, so back off.”

  Justin sighed. “Fine. I’ll back off, but I hope you’re right about her. Because if you’re not, you’ll be paying for it the rest of your life. Just like your buddy, Brett.”

  “That was a totally different situation. Lydia lied when she said he was the father of her baby. I know for a fact the baby Angie is carrying is mine. Yes, she was down on her luck when she agreed to marry me, but she voluntarily signed a pre-nup. The most important thing to both of us is to raise our child together.”

  “She’s never asked you for money but you’re giving it to her, aren’t you?”

  “I opened an account for her, but she only spends the money I deposit on groceries and stuff for the house. She hasn’t even shopped for maternity clothes, for Christ’s sake. Quit trying to make her out as some sort of gold digger. She’s in this marriage for real, just like I am.”

  Justin eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes. Now let’s drop it,” J.T. said crossly as he rose to his feet. “I need a beer.” As he headed for the kitchen to make sure Angie wasn’t upset over Justin’s undoubtedly unsubtle interrogation, J.T. acknowledged that his brother’s suspicion regarding Angie wasn’t far off the mark. She had married him for financial reasons—but at least she’d been upfront about it.

  Which, as it turned out, was a lot more than he could say for himself.

  * * *

  As the couple on the television screen kissed and the credits began to roll, Angie reached for the remote sitting on the arm of the sofa. “You know the best thing about Christmas?” she asked, shifting slightly to look at J.T.

  “Hmmm. Let’s see.” A frown creased his forehead as he considered the question. “The presents? The food? That Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer song?”