Catching Heat

by Alison Packard

  “That’s an understatement,” Angie said, and looked from him to his parents. “I’m sorry my mom is being difficult. She’s angry at me and taking it out on everyone else.”

  Joe Sawyer rested the carving knife next to the ham and reached for a large platter. “You don’t have to apologize, Angie. We Sawyers have our share of difficult relatives.”

  “Joe’s right.” Sharon nodded and gave Angie a sympathetic smile. “We got tired of dealing with the drama every year so we compromised by inviting all the other Sawyers over for Thanksgiving and then celebrating Christmas without them. It’s much more relaxing.”

  “And don’t forget, we still have tomorrow morning,” J.T. said, slipping his arm around Angie’s waist. “We’ll get together again for a late breakfast and open presents.”

  “It’s my favorite part of Christmas,” his mother said as she moved to the refrigerator and opened it. “No matter how old my boys get, I love to fill their Christmas stockings with goodies.” She pulled out a bottle of salad dressing and then closed the door with her hip. “And this year there’s a new stocking on the mantle in the family room. Yours.”

  “And next year we’ll add another for the baby,” Joe chimed in. “We may need to get a longer mantle.”

  Angie didn’t say a word. Instead she turned to him and buried her face in his chest. “What’s wrong?” J.T. asked, looking at his parents and then down at Angie.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled against his shirt and then lifted her head and gaze up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “It’s just that I never thought…” Her lips curved in a tremulous smile. “I guess it’s just these stupid hormones.”

  His father chuckled. “I can tell you a thing or two about hormones.”

  “Oh hush, Joe,” his mother chided him good-naturedly. “I wasn’t that hormonal.”

  “Really? When you were pregnant with J.T. you cried for a week after your favorite soap opera character was killed off.”

  “But it was Betsy on A New Dawn.” Sharon sighed. “It was so sad. Avalanche. She never saw it coming.”

  His father rolled his eyes, then turned back to the ham and began to load up the platter.

  “It’ll be over soon,” J.T. said, sifting his fingers through Angie’s soft tousled curls. “Don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen in the next three hours.”

  * * *

  Nothing bad is going to happen in the next three hours.

  As Angie sat opposite her mother at the Sawyer’s dining room table, she didn’t share J.T.’s optimism. In hindsight, she should have thought twice about inviting her mother to the Sawyer’s for Christmas. But hindsight didn’t mean squat right now. Right now she had to cope with a mother who, by the look of things, wasn’t about to go quietly into the night.

  To anyone who didn’t know her, Selena DeMarco might appear to be sullen, and maybe a bit rude. But Angie, and even Livvie, knew better. The iron jaw, the calculating eyes, and the barely restrained tension were all signs that things were going to get worse before they got better. Angie only hoped that her mother would save her tirade for when they were alone.

  Next to her mother sat Justin—the other thorn in Angie’s side. Despite his reserved demeanor for most of the evening, he’d been intently watching both her and her mother ever since they’d arrived. His assessing gaze unnerved her and solidified a decision she’d come to after that awful brunch this morning. She couldn’t continue to live with J.T. without knowing if they’d be together after their two years were up. She only hoped that knowing she’d fallen in love with him would be enough for him to make a life with her and their daughter.

  Fifteen minutes later, Angie had barely touched her food. Around her, the Sawyers were keeping the conversation flowing. Even Livvie, always shy in larger crowds, had come out of her shell as Josh regaled the group with a blow-by-blow of their tour of Davis. Angie’s heart swelled at the sight of her sister so happy. Of the two of them, Livvie had been the one most hurt by their father’s betrayal—too young at the time to understand why Dante DeMarco had abandoned his family and never looked back. To her credit, Selena had spared Livvie the sordid details of their father’s womanizing ways and whenever Livvie had asked Angie why daddy left, she didn’t have the heart to tarnish what little memory Livvie had of their father.

  Angie flinched and her heart sped up when J.T, who was sitting next to her, put his hand on her thigh, leaned toward her and whispered, “Are you okay? You’re not eating.”

  “I’m still a bit full from brunch,” she lied, and forced a smile.

  “Have you thought any more about names for the baby now that you know for sure it’s a girl?” Jake asked, from the far end of the table.

  Angie pushed her ham around her plate with her fork and shook her head. “We haven’t talked about it.”

  “Maybe you should wait until you see her,” Livvie suggested. “I’ve read that some parents do that. To get a feel for the baby’s personality.”

  “Babies have personalities?” Josh asked, and Angie couldn’t help but notice her mother staring with a narrowed gaze at the knife Josh held in his hand. So much for his phobia.

  “Of course they do,” Jake said. “They’re human beings.”

  “But how can their personalities be developed that young?” Josh asked.

  “Babies are born with certain personality traits,” J.T. said, as he set his fork on his plate. “Some are mellow and laid back, others are hyperactive and some are shy.”

  Josh’s expression turned skeptical. “How do you know that?”

  “I read it in Angie’s pregnancy book.”

  “It’s true,” Sharon said. “All of you boys had different personalities when you were babies.”

  “Justin was probably hyperactive,” Jake said, with a sidelong glance at Justin.

  “And you were mellow, little brother,” Justin finally spoke. “I was only three, but I remember you used to lie in your crib all day and stare up at the ceiling with the weirdest look on your face.”

  “I was deep in thought.” Jake flashed a grin as he reached for a dinner roll from a wire basket in front of him.

  “You wish. It was gas,” Justin retorted, and earned a laugh from everyone except her mother, who looked like she either had gas or tasted something sour.

  Sharon took a sip of her wine and peered at Angie over her glass. “How’s the nursery coming along? I’m dying to see what color you’ve picked out.”

  “We haven’t started on the nursery yet,” Angie replied. “We’ve got—”

  “Angie’s not concerned about the nursery,” Selena interrupted. A tight knot of dread formed in Angie’s stomach as a glimmer of spite flashed in her mother’s eyes. “She doesn’t plan to stick around long enough to care what the nursery looks like.”

  “Mom.” Angie shot her a pleading glance. “Please don’t do this,” she said, as a tense silence filled the room.

  “Mrs. DeMarco.” Sharpness edged J.T.’s voice as he jerked forward. “This isn’t the time or the place.”

  Angie looked from J.T.’s stony profile to her mother. The moment she’d dreaded had arrived, and like a runaway freight train careening toward disaster, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  “Oh, it’s definitely the time and the place for the truth,” Selena said, with a condescending lift of one brow as she looked around the table. “My daughter never wanted to marry J.T. But she was desperate. So desperate that she agreed to marry him so he could pay her medical bills and put a roof over her head until she’s able to support herself and her baby on her own.” She smiled coolly as her gaze returned to J.T. “If you don’t believe me, ask him. He agreed to the charade.”

  “Is that true?”Justin’s eyes were as hard as granite and focused squarely on J.T. Angie tried to speak but no words would come. “Answer me.” His voice rose as J.T. remained silent.

  “Shut up.” J.T.’s voice was dangerously low, and judging the muscle twitching in his jaw, it was a safe
assumption that he wanted to reach across the table and strangle her mother. Not coincidentally, so did Angie.

  “So it’s true? You’ve been conning us this whole time?” Justin demanded. “I can’t believe you’re letting her use you. What about your career? Are you going to let this bitch ruin it?”

  Livvie gasped and dropped her fork. It clattered to her plate as she covered her mouth with her hand.

  “His career isn’t ruined.” Jake’s tone was measured. “J.T. has been training hard.”

  “Wait,” Josh interjected, looking at Jake. “You told me just the other day that J.T.’s missed several training sessions.”

  “Just three,” J.T. said, through a clenched jaw. His face was pure white now. Angie placed her hand on his arm. Without looking at her, he pulled away and pushed his chair back. And then, with a snap of wrist, he threw his napkin on top of his plate and stalked out of the dining room.

  Angie’s cheeks burned as she looked around the table and saw the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces, everyone’s except for her mother and Justin, of course. Her mother’s eyes glittered with something that looked a lot like satisfaction, and Justin’s were narrowed with disdain. She met Jake’s compassionate gaze. At least one Sawyer didn’t hate her.

  * * *

  J.T. sought refuge in the family room. Of all the rooms in the house, it was the one he felt the most comfortable in. It was a room filled with years of memories—good memories that could be seen in the many family photos displayed on the built-in shelving units on either side of the brick fireplace. The fireplace where his parents had hung one more stocking on the mantle—one for Angie, who along with him, had just been outed by the mother-in-law from hell.

  It was pointless to blame Selena DeMarco. The scene in the dining room was entirely his fault. If he hadn’t been so concerned about his ego, he never would have forced Angie to lie about their arrangement. But he had, and now not only had she been humiliated in front of his family, his parents had looked at him like he was some stranger they’d never met.

  “J.T.”

  He swung around to find Angie closing the white double doors behind her. As it always did, her beautiful face took his breath away. That was the problem. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on her he’d wanted her. And the minute the opportunity to make her a part of his life had presented itself he’d taken it. Only a self-serving scumbag would use an innocent baby and a woman’s desperation as a bargaining chip. He couldn’t sink any lower if he tried.

  She moved forward to stand in front of him. “I’m sorry for what my mother did.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I never should have married you in the first place.”

  Angie’s eyes shadowed with an indefinable emotion as she placed her hands protectively on her stomach. “You wanted to do the right thing.”

  J.T. let out a mirthless laugh. “And instead I fucked everything up. Your life. Mine. My training schedule.”Damn it all. He wanted Angie and an MVP trophy, but having both seemed almost impossible. Yes, being with her had distracted him from his training regimen, yet he couldn’t deny that being with her was the best time he’d ever had. “Shit,” he muttered, unable to make sense of his conflicting emotions.

  “I guess neither of us thought about the effect this arrangement would have on your career.” She paused. “Maybe that’s what you need to focus on right now.”

  J.T.’s heart plummeted straight to his gut. Was that her polite way of saying they were over? If so, then he only had himself to blame. If she wanted to be free of him then he couldn’t use the baby to make her stay, he had to let her go. But a life without Angie in it? Unimaginable. He couldn’t face that decision right now.

  “I need to get out of here,” he muttered, and brushed past her. Her soft floral scent almost halted him in his tracks and he had to forcibly shake off the desire to turn around and pull her into his arms. He couldn’t do that—not when he didn’t know what the hell he wanted. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

  * * *

  The word coward was certainly applicable in this moment. Angie could have asked J.T. straight out if he cared about her—if he wanted to stay married and raise their daughter together. But fear that he’d tell her that his career was more important than her and the baby had kept her from asking.

  A dry sob burned like a blowtorch in her throat as she whirled around and watched J.T. pull open the doors and leave the room. For several long seconds she couldn’t seem to breathe, and then finally she sucked in a gulp of air and fought back tears. If only J.T. had given her one clue as to how he felt about her. Then maybe she wouldn’t have a gaping hole in her heart the size of Texas.

  The last thing she wanted was to be the reason he was unable to achieve his goals and if they stayed married he might grow to resent her and the baby. How could she live with that? But how could she live without J.T.—the man she fallen completely and irrevocably in love with?

  Moving to the recliner, Angie sank down on its soft pliant cushion and buried her face in her hands. As her tears finally fell, all she could think about was something her grandmother had told her many times over the years. When faced with a difficult decision, follow your heart. It will never lead you astray.

  Helpful advice if she was deciding on a new car or a career change—not so helpful when it came to living without J.T.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Are you happy now?” Angie asked, and wrapped her arms around her midriff as her mother opened her car door. Livvie, who had been quiet and withdrawn on the drive back to the house, was already ensconced in the passenger seat of her mother’s seen-better-days Ford Escort.

  Selena half-turned and in the faint light from a nearby street lamp Angie could see no sign of remorse on her mother’s face. Not that she expected any. Selena DeMarco didn’t do remorse, just cynicism and resentment. She did those things very well.

  “Did you know your husband with having breakfast with an attractive blonde this morning? I saw them together when we were having brunch.”

  “Was that who you were staring at?” Angie blew out an exasperated breath. “I know about the blonde, Mom. Her name is Leah Porter and she was interviewing J.T. for an online magazine article. If that’s what triggered your outburst at dinner then you embarrassed me and yourself for nothing.”

  Selena lifted her chin and gave Angie an imperious stare. “I did what I thought was best. Someday you’ll thank me from saving you from certain heartache.”

  “It wasn’t your decision to make.”

  “Leave him,” Selena ordered in a hard voice. “Go inside and pack your bags. Come home with us. We’ll make room.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Angie pointed toward the house. “This is my home, and I’m staying right here.”

  Her mother’s lips thinned. “Cut your losses, Angela. Get a divorce, a healthy child support payment and forget J.T. Sawyer.”

  “The only person I want to forget right now is you,” Angie said stonily, then turned and stalked toward the house. She opened the front door and then stood in the doorway and watched her mother get into her car. The frigid air stinging her cheeks barely registered as she waited for the red tail-lights of the Escort to disappear. As Christmas Eves went, this one was memorable. But not for any of the right reasons.

  “Close the door. You’ll catch your death.”

  “After what happened tonight, that’s the least of my worries,” Angie muttered, as she closed the door and locked it. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her mother-in-law. “Thank you for bringing us home,” she said, noting that Sharon had shed her coat and gloves and was watching her with a somber gaze from her seat on the edge of the couch. So much for wallowing alone in her misery. “You must hate me.”

  Sharon shook her head. “I don’t hate you. But I am disappointed in you.” Sharon settled back against the leather cushion. “The Angie I’ve come to love isn’t someone who would deliberately de
ceive anyone. What am I missing?”

  Angie blinked. “You love me?”

  “You sound surprised.” Sharon’s lips tilted in a slight smile. “Do you think you’re unlovable?”

  “I know my grandma loved me.” Angie moved toward the couch, unbuttoning her coat. “And when I was a kid, I thought my parents did too. But everything changed when the truth came out about my father.”

  “Your mother is an unhappy woman.”

  “She’s beyond bitter. My father cheated on her from almost the beginning of their marriage.” Angie shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the arm of the couch before sitting down. “He was a ballplayer.”

  Sharon nodded. “Like J.T.”

  “J.T. isn’t anything like my father, but I didn’t know that at the time. Like my mom, I believed all ballplayers were cut from the same cloth.” Angie sighed. “But from the first moment I met J.T. I couldn’t think of anyone else. He asked me out several times but I kept saying no and then he gave up. The thought of getting involved with him and being betrayed like my mother scared me. To death.”

  “Obviously, that changed. Or you wouldn’t be pregnant.”

  Angie smiled at the unexpected sparkle in Sharon’s light eyes. “He came to my softball game in August. I was pitching. After the game he approached me and congratulated me on the win. I don’t know if it was the thrill of winning the championship, or what, but when he asked if he could tag along to our celebration party I didn’t tell him to get lost.”

  “And that was the night your baby was conceived?”

  “Yes. I used to think it was because I’d had a couple of beers and my defenses were lowered, but I know now that it was inevitable.” Angie plopped back against the couch and shoved her hair from her face. Her heart clenched at the sight of the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree she and J.T. had decorated together. Their first and probably last tree as a couple. “The next morning I ran away and tried to pretend like it didn’t happen.”

  “Why?”