Caught by You (19 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Bernard

BOOK: Caught by You
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“What are you going to tell Zack?” Donna called after him. Her heart ached at the thought that her little boy might think she was ignoring him. “Can you at least tell him something . . . not horrible?”

“We'll him you're not feeling well.”

“Fine,” she choked. It was true, after all, even though she'd never canceled a date with Zack before. She never got sick . . . except for that one time, four years ago, when she couldn't keep anything down and her world went so dark.

In desperate need of a quiet place to get a grip on her emotions, she drove to the Kilby Zoo, where she had planned to bring Zack. Taj, the zoo's new white tiger, had finally arrived. His large enclosure held a cavelike area where he could snooze in privacy. Benches lined the outside of the fence, along with frequent posted warnings not to feed the tiger or put any part of your body through the fence.

She settled onto one of the benches, from which she could just get a glimpse of Taj napping in his cave. The tiger's mighty head lay peacefully on his white paws. His coloring was almost ethereal, a splash of illumination in the darkness of the pen. She watched him for a while, thinking that Zack might find Taj a little boring after all. Weren't tigers supposed to roar and pounce on their prey? What use was a tiger who just napped in the shade?

When she finally felt ready for a coherent conversation, she took out her phone and dialed Ms. Griswold.

“I know,” the lawyer said before she could utter a word. “Emergency order. What a backstabbing move. The next time I see Judge Quinn, I'm going to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Shouldn't you have been there? How can they do that without my lawyer present?”

“I had a conflict,” she said vaguely. “Sorry, doll. You know I care, but you don't pay the bills.”

A pro bono charity case didn't rate, apparently, even when her entire life was falling apart. “So they just went ahead and stopped me from seeing my kid? How is that fair?”

“Child's best interests, Donna. I'm sorry.” The lawyer was obviously trying to gentle her voice, but succeeded only marginally. “The media attention changed everything. Paparazzi in Kilby—­who thought we'd ever see the day? It's kind of a thrill, knowing that the next time I make a statement on your behalf I might end up on YouTube.”


A thrill?

“Sorry. Poor phrasing. What I meant was that the presence of all these photographers has changed the landscape. It gave them an opening to make the case that you're an unfit mother.”

Donna's palm was so sweaty she had to grip the phone in both hands to keep it from slipping out. “It's not going to last. It's because of Yazmer and Crush, and I just got caught in the middle of it.”

“We can try making that argument, but Mike Solo is a promising ballplayer. From what I've heard, he's likely to be in the public eye for some time. He's also a team leader. He's well-­liked and ­people respect him. With that ability, do you think he's going to avoid the spotlight the rest of his life?”

In the dim recesses of the cave, Taj stirred. He licked one paw with his long tongue, then lumbered to his feet. Donna fixed her gaze on the magnificent creature.

“No, of course not. Why should he? It's part of being a ballplayer. I think it's even in their contract that they have to speak to the media.”

“Exactly. So it very likely is not an isolated incident. Mike has a very compelling story, with his military background and his kidney donation. Not only that, he's good-­looking and extremely charming. That Vow of Celibacy? Genius. Oh yes, Donna, you've picked yourself a future husband who will continue to be the target of media attention. Good for him, but I'm not sure that was the best move for you, frankly. You might have given Harvey an edge. He can play the stable, normal family card.”

Taj sauntered into the enclosure, his feet padding softly across the turf. A whisper of excitement rippled through the knots of ­people watching outside the fence. His eyes were pure living gold, and they swept across the crowd with absolute indifference.

“But . . . but . . . you were all
for
the idea of me getting engaged to Mike! You said it was brilliant! The wedding's in a week.”

“Did you tell me he had a gay brother? And that he gave that brother his kidney?”

“But . . . but . . .” She seemed to be able to do nothing but splutter. “What difference does it make that he has a gay brother?”

Taj sniffed the air indifferently, as if searching for a good reason to explore. He didn't seem to find one, since he turned, head lowered, and padded back into his cave. She hadn't even taken a picture for Zack, she realized sadly.

“It made no difference, until he went and made that PSA and started making the headlines. Now he's a lightning rod for attention. Judges don't like controversy. They don't like brouhahas. I'm afraid it may come down to a choice. Do you want to marry Mike Solo or do you want to pursue your custody battle for Zack?”

 

Chapter 19

T
HAT NIGHT,
D
ONNA
made love to Mike with a craving she'd never even imagined before. She felt as if a fever had infiltrated her bloodstream and the only cure was Mike. If she had to walk away from him she needed to soak in as much of him as possible. He didn't seem to have a problem with that, letting her revel in his body, his heat and hardness, forget herself in the electric pleasure they generated.

Finally, he stilled her as she straddled him, her thighs clinging to his hips. “What's wrong?”

“How do you know something's wrong?”

“I read pitchers for a living. You make a nice change of pace. Something's up, I can tell.”

She didn't want to talk. She wanted to bone. Screw. Fuck her brains out. She shifted her position, trying to work his penis inside her, but he tightened his grip on her hips. “Talk, Donna. Tell me what's going on.”

She dropped her head, knowing she'd cry if she met his eyes. “They won't let me see Zack.” The words ripped out of her, a primal whisper of pain. “Because of all the media.”


What?
” He pulled himself upright, so she was cradled between his legs. “What are you talking about? Tell me the whole thing.”

So she explained it, in all its horrid injustice, taking quick little peeks to see his reaction. Mike's face went grimmer and grimmer, so he looked like a statue with blazing green eyes by the end. He let out a stream of creative curse words.

“So our engagement, which was supposed to help you get Zack back, is now the problem. I'm now
keeping
you from Zack. I'm the reason you can't see him.”

“No, no. It's not so much
you
as . . . the spotlight, the controversy, the circus, all that.”

“Which I'm in the middle of. Which I caused.”

She rolled away from him and pulled a sheet over her. “You didn't cause it,” she said miserably. “You just did the right thing. I'm totally behind the PSA, even though I didn't know any of this would happen. If you're going to blame yourself you have to blame me too.”

“I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just pointing out that at this moment, I'm the reason you can't see Zack.”

“No . . .” She trailed off. What Mike said was true. If she hadn't gotten engaged to Mike, she'd still be up against Harvey and Bonita, but she probably wouldn't be facing a total ban from seeing Zack. “The lawyer says I have to make a choice,” she confessed in a faltering voice.

Mike stroked her back, his hands warm through the sheet. “You're saying we have to end our engagement. Call off the wedding.”

A sob ripped from her throat, coming out as a pitiful croak. It was what she had decided, but hearing it out loud made her heart crack. “But what if she's wrong . . . I mean, won't it make me look bad? Like I change my mind too much? One minute I'm engaged, the next I'm a single mom again? What if that's bad advice?”

“But you said the emergency order is because of the media crap right now. Because of me.”

She nodded miserably.

“The last thing I want to do is prevent you from seeing Zack. That's the whole reason I pushed you into this thing, for Zack. Everything's different now. I'm a liability. I won't ruin things for you, Donna. I won't.”

Everything in her wanted to scream that he wasn't ruining things. That he was a blessing in her life, that he gave her strength and joy and comfort. But she couldn't. Because she couldn't lose Zack. She couldn't let Bonita be in charge of Zack's childhood. And that's exactly what would happen if Harvey got custody. If she'd had any doubts before, they were gone. Bonita called all the shots with Harvey.

Mike pulled his body away from hers, out of the tangle of sheets, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I'll take the blame. Completely, so it doesn't come back on you. I'll make a public announcement right away. I'll say that I didn't want the media attention to affect the ­people I care about, so I'm releasing you from our engagement. I'll add some more stuff too, like it's been an honor to be part of your life, and you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and a wonderful person and mother and all that.”

With his back was to her, that strong, powerful back, he seemed impossibly distant. She wanted to scream at him. How had he put it?
Some more stuff
. All those nice words were just for show, to impress the public. None of it was real. He'd never pretended there was anything more between them than friendship, chemistry, and a desire to help her. She threw her arm across her eyes to hide her tears. The scent of their night of lovemaking, intimate and sweaty, still surrounded her. Outside, the sewage plant rumbled with its nighttime workings.

A soft touch on her chin startled her. Mike was pressing a kiss to it, then up the curve of her cheek. “It's all true, you goose,” he whispered. “Every single word.”

Emotion swelled, threatening to swamp her.

“You don't have to say that,” she managed. “Whatever we tell the rest of the world, you have to tell me the truth.”

“I am.” He covered her body with his, his long limbs stretching beyond hers. “It's possible that my Superhero Complex and your act-­before-­you-­think personality might have been a bad combination. And I know I should regret it, because now you'll have to fight to lift that emergency order. But I can't regret everything that's happened between us. I just can't. Donna, I—­”

He broke off, leaving her wondering frantically what he'd almost said. That he . . . loved her? Was it possible? A deep panic ripped through her. What if he was on the verge of saying, “I love you,” but wouldn't now because they had to break off the engagement? She knew him. His instinct would be to protect her from more trouble by walking away.

Desperately, she threw her arms around him and it was like flying into the sunshine. One last ride into bliss. One last drink from the narcotic of sex with Mike. One last dose of her baseball player—­and it would have to last her forever. No more Mike—­the thought turned her heart into a desert, bleak and empty.

Unless . . . A last-­ditch idea flashed into her mind.

Deep in their kiss, she tried to pull away, but couldn't. She pounded her fists on his back to get his attention. Finally he released her, his eyes deep, dark pools of green fire. “What?”

“I have an idea. What if we break off the engagement publicly but keep seeing each other secretly?”

“Huh?”

Mike's brain didn't usually operate this slowly; he must be foggy with lust, which she completely understood.

“As far as the world knows, we're through. We don't appear in public together. We deny that we're involved. We go on with our lives. When it's safe and no one's paying attention, we sneak away and go at it like freaky little bunnies.”

“Freaky little bunnies?” He still seemed a bit dazed.

“Or some other metaphor that's maybe not so disturbing.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if trying to circulate blood back toward his brain. “You're saying . . . sneak around? Hide our relationship?” When she shrugged in carefree agreement, he shook his head. “I don't get it. What exactly would our relationship be?”

“Well, we just go back to the basics. It all started with a flirtation. Remember, from the Roadhouse?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Then came the big brawl, when you rode to my rescue. Then we ran into each other at the library. That's when we segued into the kissing and snogging and all that.”

“Snogging?”

“Harry Potter fan from way back. After the snogging, we got fake-­engaged.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, which had the effect of drawing her unwilling eyes to that magnificent part of his body, the dusting of dark curls shading the hard slopes of his pectorals. Seriously, maybe he should be required to put clothes on for this conversation. He was simply too distracting.

“I never considered it fake,” he told her.

“I know. You considered it something along the lines of a good deed. A good deed with benefits.”

“Now you're just pissing me off.” A frown drew creases between his eyebrows. “I swear to you I've never seen you as a good deed with benefits.”

Keep it light. Don't show how much he means to you.
She waved one hand airily. “Fine, you can use whatever phrasing you like. But it was a good deed and there were benefits. Excellent benefits, if you ask me.”

Judging by his stormy expression, Mike didn't seem impressed by this line of conversation. Alarm bells were going off all over the place, but she couldn't seem to stop.

“Sounds like you're making a joke out of this,” he said slowly.

The similarity to Harvey's accusation gave her an unwelcome jolt. “No, I'm not. I'm just saying that we've gone about this backwards. You like me, I like you, we like sleeping together, but we never would have gotten engaged if not for Zack. Admit it, Mike. Just admit it!” For some reason, this felt very important. As if everything else would seem like a lie if he didn't agree with that statement.

He narrowed his eyes at her, a tiny muscle flexing in his jaw. “Fine. I admit that. But I was serious about it. I was going to marry you. I wanted to marry you. It wasn't just a so-­called good deed. And I thought you were serious about it too.”

Serious? How could she have been completely serious about it when he never came close to the topic of love? Which ought to belong in the same sentence as the topic of marriage?

She couldn't bring “love” up. That would be pure disaster.

“I gave an interview to the
Kilby Press-­Herald
, didn't I? Would I have done that if I wasn't serious?”

“That's what I'd like to know.”

That comment sounded ominous, but she decided to ignore it. She rose onto her knees.

“We're getting off track here. Here's what I'm suggesting. Let's just go back to before everything happened. Before we got engaged. Except that we keep sleeping together, because we've already done that, so why stop now?”

“And no one else will know.”

“Exactly. No one else will know.”

“What if they find out? Bonita busted us over a kiss.”

“We just have to keep it low-­key for a while, until all the attention dies down. Until everything is back to normal with Zack.”

“So when my family asks me what happened to my fiancée, I say, oops, another broken engagement. But really I'm still secretly boning you?” His eyes glittered with some mysterious emotion she couldn't name.

She scrambled off the bed, planting her feet on the carpet. “I don't know why you're so mad at me. It makes perfect sense. You still get to have sex, but you don't have to go through with something you never really wanted anyway! You ought to be loving this idea.”

“And what about my vow?”

“Your vow? It's already . . . It doesn't apply anymore.”

He grabbed his shirt, which had gotten tumbled in with her sheets, and yanked it over his head. “You really don't know anything about me, do you?”

“What . . . of course . . .”

“You want me to deceive my family, dishonor my vow, and put your future at risk if anyone finds out. Three things I would never do.” He bounded off the bed, located his boxer briefs, and pulled them on.

She watched, horrified, feeling like someone who had thrown a stick of dynamite onto a fire. “You're twisting it all around. That's not what I meant.”

“That's what it comes down to. All so I can get some booty. On the down-­low, so nobody knows.”

“You make it sound so . . .” Dirty. Immoral. Sinful. Wrong. She'd never thought of sex with Mike as any of those things. “You think of me as ‘booty'?”

“Of course I don't. That's the whole point. I was going to
marry
you. Give you my name, my support, my life. But you're fine just sneaking around with me. Who do you think you're dealing with here?”

She picked up a pillow and hurled it at him. “You're being crazy, Solo.”

With elite-­level reaction time, he swatted the pillow aside, then found his jeans and dragged them on. “I thought you knew me better by now, Donna.”

The chilly disappointment in his voice made her want to scream. Taking advantage of the fact that his hands were occupied with his pants, she threw her other pillow at his head. He ducked and it knocked over her new lamp, the one with the base shaped like a football.

“You ought to know
me
by now!” she cried. “You ought to know—­” She broke off, because the thing he ought to know was the thing she couldn't tell him. That she
loved
him and that's why she wanted to keep seeing him. Because the thought of not seeing him was like death.

While he was able to walk away without blinking an eye.

He righted the lamp. “Starting another brawl, Donna? Great strategy. That ought to really impress the judge.” He strode toward the door, all athletic grace and male confidence. Maddening, and so sexy she wanted to rip his head off.

She picked up pillow number three and winged it across the room with all her might. He turned at the last minute and plucked it from the air.

“Wild pitch, babe. One more and the batter walks.” He tossed the pillow over his shoulder on his way out the room.

“I hate baseball!” she shouted after him, but heard only an unintelligible answer before the front door slammed shut.

“I hate you,” she whispered after him, before collapsing backward onto her bed, which still smelled of his aftershave and essence of Mike. No, she didn't. “I wish I hated you,” she added helplessly to the ceiling. Hatred would be so much easier than this bottled-­up, invisible, frustrating
love.

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