Her Knight in Black Leather (10 page)

“Was he nice to you?”

She turned to her father. His eyes held nothing but gentleness and understanding, but the look did nothing to ease her nerves. “He was a gentleman, yes.”

Her father nodded before turning back to the newspaper. “That’s all that matters.”

She turned to a box of books on the counter and pulled the flaps open. Was it really that simple? Could it be?

“Do you think it’ll affect sales?” She asked more out of a need to fill the uncomfortable silence than an actual need to know.

He let out a quiet laugh, his shoulders shaking. “When you moved into town nine years ago, it actually
increased
sales. They all came in here to gawk.” Her father joked about it back then, too. He always seemed to take things in stride. Not much ever bothered him. It was a personality trait she wished she shared, but unfortunately she hadn’t been able to laugh about it nine years ago and she couldn’t laugh now, either.

She let out a heavy sigh. “They really are shameless about it, aren’t they?”

Her father threw his arm around her shoulders, drew her gently against his side. “You worry too much, sweetheart. It’s just a kiss.”

“Dad, the entire town now thinks I … ” Her cheeks grew hot, the words refusing to leave her mouth. She swallowed and tried again. “They know who Mom was, and this is just another ugly reminder.”

“I should never have let your mother leave with you.” Regret etched from her father’s voice. His hands gripped her shoulders. He turned her toward him and cupped her face in his palms. “You are not your mother, Catherine. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Somewhere deep inside, she knew he was right, but it still felt good to hear him say the words. She’d be forever grateful to her father. He’d always been her biggest supporter. Without him, the leftover shame would have swallowed her whole a long time ago. “Thanks, Dad.”

He dropped his hands to his sides and turned back to the newspaper. “The town will get over itself and move on to bigger and better news. It always does.”

She hoped he was right. Despite the awful gossip, Crest Point was home. Judy had been more of a mother than her own, and when she died two years ago, Cat felt the loss every bit as keenly as her father.

She had allowed the pressure to make her leave once. She and her mother had lived in Crest Point until Cat was twelve. After Senator Brant paid her mother to leave quietly, they’d spent a few years wandering from city to city, everywhere from Seattle to Las Vegas. When her mother dumped her here at sixteen, the rumors got to be more than she could handle. Kids, unfortunately, could be so cruel to each other. So she’d left, ending up in San Diego. After having grown up with her mother, dealing with the stigma she left in every single town, all Cat wanted was peace. To finally be able to stand on her own two feet and judged by her own merits. If the people of Crest Point were going to judge her, then to hell with them.

But Judy had gotten sick, and Cat realized she’d allowed the town to drive her away from the only home she’d ever known. She came back determined to prove she was the absolute opposite of her mother. Determined they wouldn’t push her from her home again.

Now this. Old wounds died hard. Despite knowing she had nothing to be ashamed of, her stomach still knotted wondering what people would say. She still wanted to hide in a hole.

The bell over the door chimed, signaling a customer’s entrance. She and her father turned. The sight that greeted her stopped her heart.

Michael.

He stood frozen two steps inside the entrance, one hand holding the door open. His eyes widened. Her heart hammered like pistons as she stared at him. She’d known she was bound to run into him sooner or later — the town simply wasn’t that big — but she was unprepared for the actuality of it. Looking at him, she heard again every sinful tidbit he murmured in her ear, felt again his soft, warm hands sliding over her skin …

Heat flashed in his eyes, telling her he remembered as well. Electricity zipped between them, hot and tangible, thickening the air. She hadn’t realized how much she longed to see him again until this very moment. Everything inside of her ached with the need to go to him, to press herself against him. She yearned to be back in his embrace, lost in the urgent heat of his kiss.

He was completely out of her league. Yet there he was, and her heart fluttered with hope even as fear reached up to grab her by the throat. It was supposed to be one night of passion. She wasn’t supposed to see him again …

Drawing her brows together, she shook her head in miserable confusion. “What are you doing here?”

• • •

Michael’s mind went blank. The words he’d been about to say evaporated into thin air as he soaked in the sight of Cat. She’d been on his mind all morning and suddenly there she was. She looked even better than when he left her, dressed simply in a T-shirt and khaki shorts. The way the shirt hugged the curves of her body, outlining the shape of her full breasts, made his palms sweat. Made him remember cupping the weighty mounds in his hands …

He glanced at the older gentleman beside her — a man in his mid to late fifties with a full head of salt and pepper hair — and noticed the open newspaper on the counter in front of him. He easily recognized the picture on the front page.

When Gabe pointed it out to him an hour ago, he hoped somehow Cat hadn’t seen it. Judging by the look on her face, she obviously had. His heart sank. That meant not only did she know who he was, but the whole ugly story had been rehashed in the newspaper. She now knew why he left ten years ago.

Cat twisted her hands together, confusion dancing in her eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder — did knowing the truth change her view of him?

His whole life people treated him differently, his parents holding him to almost impossible standards, all because his family was well-known. His grandfather’s affair had dragged their name down along with him, and life had always been about repairing the damage and putting out the right image. An image he thrived on going against once upon a time, because he felt compressed and cornered by the pressure. His rebellion had gotten not one, but three people killed, all of it outlined in that damn article. It all made him wonder: Would Cat care? Would it change the way she saw him?

Sucking in a deep breath, he turned to the older gentleman beside her, forcing his mind back to the reason he came in here in the first place. A safer alternative at the moment.

“Actually — ” He stepped farther into the shop, the door swooshing closed behind him, setting the bell tinkling again. “I came looking for Jonathan Edwards. I was told I could find him here?”

Disappointment flitted across Cat’s features as she turned to the box on the counter and began pulling out books. The look twisted at something in his gut, made him wish they were alone.

Either oblivious to the tension between him and Cat or too polite to say anything, the older man flashed a pleasant smile and stuck his hand out in greeting. “You found him.”

Stopping in front of the counter, he accepted the man’s handshake and tried his damndest not to stare at Cat. Or lean across the counter and inhale the now familiar scent of her skin. “Michael Brant. I come on behalf of my father. I’m told you were the one who found him?”

Jonathan nodded. “On the side of the road, just off the highway. Seemed like he was having a heart attack. How’s he doing?”

“Fine, thanks to you. My mother tells me you followed him all the way to the hospital and stayed with him until she arrived.”

A smile touched Jonathan’s mouth. “Never would have forgiven myself if something had happened to him. My late wife used to say nobody should die alone.”

Michael offered a polite smile. “My family’s very grateful to you. My father said four cars passed him, but yours was the only one that stopped. He’d like to thank you in person. I’ve actually come to extend an invitation. My folks throw a barbeque every year for the Fourth, just family and friends, nothing huge, and they’d like you to come.”

Pulled by the power of her presence, he looked over at Cat. She peeked at him from beneath her lashes as she stacked the books on the counter. Something flashed in her jade eyes, but she quickly diverted her gaze before he could register what it had been. It ate at him. She didn’t look pleased to see him. She seemed … torn, tormented. Did the damn picture in the paper have anything to do with it?

Hope fluttered in his stomach as an idea flitted through his mind. He kept a careful watch on her expression. “My mother said to make sure to tell you to bring your family.”

As hoped, Cat looked up.

“Since my wife died, it’s just the two of us.” Jonathan wrapped an arm around Cat, something akin to amusement and challenge flashing in the old man’s eyes. “This is my daughter, Catherine, but I suspect you know that already.”

His face heating, Michael rubbed the back of his neck. Well, that confirmed his suspicion that Jonathan was her father. Coming back to town, he hoped to avoid this exact problem.

With a sigh, he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I came back once before and managed to not end up in the paper. Clearly I wasn’t so lucky this time.”

Michael paused, turned his head and stared pointedly at Cat. He was playing with fire and ought to leave well enough alone. Getting involved while he was here wasn’t a good idea. Never mind he had to leave when he said he was. He had an interview with a large biker magazine the first of next month. He’d recently built a few custom bikes for a couple of big name celebrities, and the publication wanted to do an article on him. It meant more promotion for the shop. For the first time in his life, he’d made a name for himself separate from his family.

Getting involved with her beyond last night wasn’t a good idea, yet the words fell from his mouth anyway. “Both of you are more than welcome.”

He prayed she understood his silent invitation, that she’d be at the barbeque, because he had to know. He wanted to find out if knowing what he’d done changed her view of him. In an effort to sympathize and be supportive, the article still told a secret he’d rather forget. It was important Cat know he was the same man from last night. For the first time in a long time, someone else’s opinion of him mattered.

• • •

Standing in the shadows of the gazebo, Cat gripped the wooden banister as she scanned the sea of people lining the park across the street. Celebrations were always a big deal in Crest Point, and the Fourth of July was no exception. Clowns roamed around with balloons for the kids. Vendors of every kind lined the sidewalk. The scents of burning charcoal, grilling meat, popcorn and cotton candy all floated on the light, warm breeze. There was a general hum of quiet chatter, occasionally interrupted by children’s giggles and squeals, lending the night an air of energy and excitement.

She couldn’t share that sense. Once again, her life had become a three-ring circus. A week had passed since Michael showed up in the bookstore. Since the newspaper photo. Every day she’d gotten more calls. Her phone rang at all hours of the day and night, sometimes as late as two in the morning. They were always the same — creepy, heavy breathing. At first, she and Lisa put them off as pranks, assuming some kid was getting his jollies. Now she was beginning to wonder. They’d begun calling her cell, too, and had increased in sheer number until she was fielding sometimes two and three per hour. Maybe she was paranoid, but it sure seemed like someone was stalking her.

“Anybody ever call you Kitty?”

Michael’s rich baritone voice shivered all the way down her spine, weakening her knees, and Cat’s grip tightened on the wooden banister. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he left her father’s bookshop last week. Since he’d invited her to his parents’ barbeque.

She darted a glance back. His shadowy form filled the gazebo’s entrance. Every inch of her tingled with awareness. She hadn’t been able to stop craving being near him, longed to be back in the blissful place where there was only him and her. Before the real world had entered her fantasy, shattering what the night had been.

Suddenly there he was, close enough to touch.

“You weren’t at the barbecue. I was hoping you’d be there.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” She’d seen the unmistakable longing in his eyes, the silent question when he invited her father. She’d almost gone. She ached for the knowledge — to see his life, where and how he lived. To learn about his character, how he interacted with his family. To see the man behind the façade. All things words could never describe. “If I’m being honest, I was afraid to come.”

The desire to see him had been overwhelming. It meant he’d become more important than he should have, that she was beginning to allow herself to think of him beyond the one night, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.

A loose board creaked beneath his weight, and Cat gripped the rail tighter, her ears homing in on the sound of his footsteps growing nearer. Every shuffle of his boots across the planks made her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in her chest.

When the creaking stopped, his heat radiated against her back, sending goose bumps shivering along her skin. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t have to. His closeness, his very presence, electrified her nerve endings and her body hummed with need to feel the hard lines of his body molding against her back, his strong arms enveloping her. Bringing her back to the safe, comfortable place, where she could be whoever she wanted without worrying what part of her mother’s past hung over her head.

“Afraid of what?” His voice came as quiet as the night, but it was oddly calm and soothing, returning her to the ease and comfort she felt lying in his arms.

“Facing you.” The ease with which the words fell from her lips surprised her. How much she wanted, needed, to finally answer the question that burned within her. “I wasn’t completely honest with you either that morning. You hid your identity from me that night for the anonymity. The chance to be just yourself.”

“Yes.”

“So did I. My whole life I’ve been tainted by the life my mother chose. When I moved into town nine years ago, it got bad. Kids are kids, you know? But I was tired of it, so I left. When I came back three years ago, people had finally forgotten and moved on. Now there’s a picture of us in the paper and people are going to start putting two and two together.”