Caught in the Act (The Davenports) (5 page)

“It was a great summer, Brody. I remember many things about it. I’m just sorry . . .”

“I am, too,” he replied when she couldn’t find the words to express all that she was sorry for. He studied her in the waning light, and she felt another chink form in her armor. She had no protection around him. Just like the first time, it simply felt right to be with him.

She took a small step back and looked away. Stooping, she placed the hydrangea on the sand behind them, trying to force herself to say good-bye to their daughter. But she found she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t let go.

Guilt shredded her. She should have told Brody about Annabelle.

“Want to walk back to the house with me?” she asked as she rose. Her voice was impressively steady.

Brody pinned her with his gaze before sliding it to the flower she’d placed on the ground. “You brought that all the way out here?” his words sounded odd in his throat. “To put in this spot?”

She looked at him in the shadows. No words would come out. She nodded.

He studied her for another moment, no doubt seeing far more than she wanted him to, but she knew he couldn’t see the truth. He couldn’t see the reason she’d needed to be in this very spot.

“What has you so sad?” he asked. His gentle tone almost did her in.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. “I’m fine.”

She turned and started back the way she’d come, hoping he would follow. He did.

“Then why the long face?” He matched his pace to her shorter legs. “And the holing up in your house all week?”

A warm sizzle began in her and she shot him a sidelong glance. “Have you been spying on me, Brody Hollister?”

“Yes,” he answered the instant her words stopped. His voice was strong and solid. She liked that. He leaned in a bit, bumping his arm against hers. “I have been spying on you,” he whispered. The back of her neck tingled.

She let out a nervous laugh.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re here, actually.” His tone went back to serious.

She raised a brow. He was honest, too. She’d forgotten he would say or do whatever crossed his mind.

“But at least I haven’t been using binoculars,” he teased.

Her feet tripped over some magically appearing rock, or maybe a stick—surely it hadn’t been mere sand—and Brody reached out a hand to steady her. He managed to keep her from face-planting at his feet.

When she regained her balance, he kept his hand around her elbow.

Probably he was afraid she would fall in the dark again.

Wouldn’t surprise her if she did. Especially if he kept flirting with her. Wait . . . he was flirting with her?

She glanced at him. He raised his brows.

Her chest squeezed.

She was pretty sure he was flirting with her.

But she still didn’t want to admit she’d been staring at him through binoculars.

Instead, she changed the subject. They talked about mundane things on the walk back. Both laughing at times. Occasionally one of them bringing up something that had happened during their summer together. It was nice remembering.

They’d been so young. Being with him now wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d thought it might be, because they both realized that. Life had turned out the way it was supposed to. He’d seemingly met all the goals he’d set out for himself. He was brilliant and successful. He had a good life.

And she’d . . . well, she’d done what she’d been born to do. Be a Davenport.

She made a face at the thought.

“What was that for?” Brody asked.

“What?” They’d reached the bottom of the steps to her deck and turned to face each other. There were small solar lights dotting the perimeter of the deck railing, which lit the space enough that they could see each other.

His hand had dropped from her arm at some point on the walk back, but he lifted it now and smoothed the pad of his index finger across her forehead. “You’re scowling.”

She scowled again. “No, I’m not.”

He hiked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m just thinking about how things didn’t quite turn out the way I’d once imagined.”

His hand lowered and cupped hers. “How so?” he asked.

It was hard to remember what she’d been thinking when his fingers slid lightly over the center of her palm.

“Well,” she stammered. She licked her lips. “What have I done, exactly?” It was a question she’d been thinking about a lot this week.

“From what I can tell, you’ve done a lot. You
do
a lot. I follow the news religiously, and I regularly see something that has your mark on it. Additionally, I’m sure you’re a great mother—as I can’t see how you wouldn’t be. You arrange for your family’s foundation to help out many people and organizations. You—”

“Don’t do anything out of the ordinary,” she said, the exasperation inside her coming out through her words. “I don’t ever color outside the lines.”

His fingers stilled on her skin. “And you want to color outside the lines?”

She didn’t even have to think about it.
Yes!

She wanted to push the boundaries. To be more than who she was.

She wanted to be
her
at sixteen.

The person she’d been
before
she’d gotten pregnant. Because after . . . things had been different. In one move, she could have single-handedly destroyed her family’s reputation. All because she’d gone and followed her heart instead of logic.

The decision to be with Brody that night had changed her permanently. It had solidified the life she’d been born to live.

But did that mean she never got a break?

“I want to do something that no one sees coming,” she whispered quietly.

He released her then, studying her carefully for a few seconds before turning to peer out toward the waves. His jaw was strong and solid, and she found herself wanting to reach over and touch it. To feel his whiskers against her fingers. She didn’t, though. She simply stood there, the sound of the waves making their way ever closer to her deck, the lights from the railing casting their shadows together in a haphazard way across the sand.

Finally, Brody faced her. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and gave her a teasing grin. “You once went skinny dipping up here. I don’t think anyone would see that coming.”

She snorted with laughter. “I’m thirty-five years old now. I know better. I already froze my rear off out there once. That was enough to last a lifetime.”

But the thought of skinny dipping with the grown man standing in front of her did have appeal. Not that he’d offered to go in with her.

“Tell you what,” she said before he could read her mind. For some reason, she felt as if her feelings were plastered across her face tonight. “How about I start by suggesting we be friends while I’m here? Be someone I can hang out with. That would be different. I haven’t had a person in my life who wasn’t family—or looking for an in with my family—in a long time.”

His stance didn’t change, but he went still.

“Unless you don’t want to,” she hurriedly added. Good grief, how embarrassing. She’d just had one of the more enjoyable hours she could remember, and he’d apparently been feeling—

“I would love it,” he said. His tone was full of sincerity, and her heart did a little squeeze-jump thing. “I could use a friend myself.”

At the look on his solemn face, she wanted to hug him close.

“I can’t see how that’s coloring outside the lines, though,” he pointed out, bringing the teasing back out. “I’m a college history professor. I’m not exactly risqué.”

She thought about the past and of how adamantly her mother had insisted Cat have nothing to do with Brody. He
was
risqué. At least in
her
world.

She gave him a wide smile. “My mother wouldn’t approve.”

His returning grin heated her from the inside out. “Far be it from me to keep a girl from rebelling against her own mother.”

The joy she felt at having Brody in her life once again was like sunshine coming out after a late-summer storm. It appeared quickly, bright and strong. She’d never been able to talk to anyone like she could him. Not even her late husband. Which probably should make her feel more guilty than it did. There had been something special between her and Brody. More than he knew, but even without the pregnancy, it had always been there.

Given their easy conversation of the night, it appeared it still was.

Maybe they would simply spend a few weeks hanging out, or . . .

She studied him as he stood in front of her, his eyes mostly hidden in the shadows, but the curve of his mouth saying all she needed to know. He did something to her. She wasn’t looking for a relationship. Who had time for that with two kids and a foundation to run? But she couldn’t say that she would object to a fling if the opportunity presented itself.

Either way, her summer was looking up.

She smiled up at him, letting it once again grow wide across her face. She felt lighter than she had in years.

“There’s a play opening at the community theater Friday night,” he said in a rush. “How about going with me?” He paused before adding, “As my friend.”

She nodded, no hesitation. “I saw that when I drove by the theater the other day. I would love to go with you.”

A gust of wind picked up her hair and tossed it in front of her eyes, and as she reached to swipe it back, she noticed the massive blooms of the hydrangeas in his yard. They swayed as if dancing in the wind. Then something occurred to her.

“If you were in the house when I picked the flower,” she began, trying to figure out the answer to her question before she asked it, “how is it that you were . . .” she paused and motioned back toward the way they’d come, not wanting to say
in our spot
, “. . . already out there before me?”

His features did a quick change, and she would swear embarrassment shone back at her before the line of his mouth tightened in a grimace. “I drove out there,” he confessed.

Her lips parted. “And yet you walked all the way back with me?”

One shoulder lifted under his T-shirt. The man filled out his clothes nicely. “A pretty girl asks me to take a stroll on a moonlit beach, I’m going to say yes every time.” His voice gentled as he said the words, and though it was hard to tell for certain, she would lay money down that he’d shifted his gaze to her mouth. Did he want to kiss her?

Because hell yes,
she
wanted to kiss
him
.

At one point in her life, she’d been the kind of girl who’d gone for whatever had struck her fancy. It was time to channel that girl.

Inching up on the balls of her feet, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She desperately hoped she didn’t do this wrong. It had been a really long time since she’d had a first kiss.

Brody’s eyebrows shot up at her movement, and then his hand touched her. Lightly.

His hot palm grazed the skin of her arm, and a shiver danced across her shoulders. She sucked in a breath. Then she inched higher.

And then her cell phone rang.

They froze. Both leaning in within breathing distance of each other. Both wanting what the other was offering.

“Ignore it,” she begged.
Oh please, ignore it. Just kiss me.

Brody gave a little nod as the phone stopped ringing. He moved closer.

And it rang again.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she muttered, dropping back on her heels.

Brody chuckled. It was late and she’d already talked to her kids tonight, but possibly one of them needed something.

“Let me make sure it isn’t my . . .” She didn’t say “kids,” instead waving the word away. What a way to ruin the moment, to bring your children into the mix.

She dug into her back pocket for her phone, shaking her head at the timing. Was this some kind of message from the universe? That she needed to keep her priorities straight?

And what? The universe didn’t think Brody Hollister was a priority?

Too bad.

Screw the universe. She wanted sex.

What she saw on the lit screen, though, made her grind her teeth together. It was her brother. Geez, the guy needed to give her a break. She was on vacation. She did not need her family calling all week to make sure she wasn’t still upset.

Planting a tight smile on her face, she sent the call to voice mail and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Then she peered up at Brody.

“Problem?” he asked.

“No. Just my annoying brother.”

He nodded again, but then glanced over her shoulder toward the road. A heavy pause hung in the air. “I should probably go get my car.”

Her spirits sank. He wasn’t going to kiss her.

Probably for the best. No need risking making this uncomfortable.

She nodded just as her cell went off again, this time signaling that she’d received a text. With a growl, Cat pulled out the phone and jabbed at the screen.

The message that came up froze her. It was from JP.

The tabloids know there was a mistress.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE NEXT AFTERNOON,
Cat stood in the midst of reporters and Dyersport city officials, smiling and shaking hands, doing whatever it took to make sure they knew she was there for the right reason.

In reality, she was standing in the middle of a plot of land owned by her family for exactly the wrong reason. To take the focus off the paparazzi having a field day in Atlanta. Her father’s mistress from nine years ago had yet to be identified, but an ex–campaign manager had been unearthed, stating that he’d witnessed Jackson Davenport Sr., more than once, canoodling up to an underage volunteer.

Pictures had been posted, but they’d been fuzzy.

But canoodling with an underage volunteer was exactly what her father had done. Though the girl
had
been eighteen when she’d had his baby.

None of it, however, meant that Cat or her family would lie down and declare the Harrisons the winner. They had an image to uphold—a political lineage—and she would do her best to help maintain it.

Even if it did interrupt her vacation to do so.

At least it hadn’t ended it. That had been her first thought. She would be needed at home.

After saying a quick good night to Brody the night before, she’d gone inside the house and immediately returned JP’s call. She’d had her laptop open and was looking up flight schedules before he’d answered.

But her brother had calmed her down. He’d reminded her that this was the first time she’d had to herself in years, and that he and their mother could handle things in Atlanta.

They
had
come up with an alternative plan for her, though.

Which was why she stood in front of reporters today.

She, her mother, and JP had decided to dedicate a piece of land to the city for a multipurpose park. Given that Dyersport held decades of Davenport history, it would look good to give back. The only drawback for her was that her location would be publicized to the world. So much for her quiet little trip away.

But still, this was their way of life. Thinking she could maintain her privacy for the full month had been a pipe dream, and she’d known it. No one in her family went anywhere for very long without being found out.

The bigger issue was that they had exactly twenty-two days to get the park functional.

And that there were more secrets in danger of being exposed.

Her father had experienced a huge lapse in judgment in getting involved with Lexi Dougard, yes. But he’d made an even bigger one in getting her pregnant. And Cat’s mother had stood by him. She’d
known
about the seventeen-year-old. About the kid. She’d written out the million-dollar check.

Thankfully, nothing about the money or the child had been discovered.

Yet.

Thus they needed to draw the attention north.

The hope was that the rest of the world would somehow forget that there was a woman out there whom her father—Mr. High Morals and Family Values—had cheated on her mother
with, while also helping to deflect many of the sordid questions the media was now firing at her mother.

Cat nodded a greeting as yet another reporter joined the group, and silently expounded on the last thought to run through her head. Her father had cheated on her mother after over three decades of a seemingly perfect marriage.

With a teenager.

How did something like that happen?

Other than the fact that power went to a person’s head, she could come up with no possible explanation. And now she worried that same power would change her mother as well. Maybe it already had.

Emma Davenport hadn’t exactly been mother of the year as Cat and her brothers were growing up, but she’d been a good mom. They’d never wanted for anything other than a bit more time with their parents. But all Davenports understood that family came first. And the family was politics.

Her dad had been involved at the federal level for sixteen years before he’d run for president. If he hadn’t lost his battle with cancer before the election, Cat was certain he would have won. He was that good. So was her mother.

The fact was, the country needed the wisdom and experience that her family brought.

So she’d stand before the crowd, today, and she’d donate the park. And she’d be gracious as she did it. Even if she did feel a little dishonest in her motives.

She understood the need, but for the first time in her many years of representing her family, her actions weren’t sitting quite right with her. Maybe it was simply because she knew she’d prefer to be on her deck at that very moment, enjoying the blue skies and the afternoon sun. And thinking about that almost kiss from the night before.

Actually, that almost kiss would have probably turned into a real kiss.

And then they might have—

A low rumble cut off her thoughts, and she looked away from the crowd to watch a two-door, dark red car roll up behind the row of vehicles parked along the side of the road. The car had wide white stripes down the hood and a white convertible top, and it growled, low and dangerous, like a savage animal ready to pounce.

She knew little about cars, but if she were to guess, she’d say it was a sixties or seventies model. Maybe a Chevy? A Ford? Heck, she didn’t know. But it was drop-dead sexy. And it made her think devilish thoughts about what she’d wanted to do with Brody last night.

When Brody himself uncoiled from behind the wheel, dark sunglasses in place, her heart rate took off as if it planned to meet him at the car and dance him into the backseat.

Brody drove a hot, sexy machine like that? She almost purred at the thought.

But what was he doing here?

“Ah,” the mayor hummed at her side. “Clyde must have sent Dr. Hollister in his place.”

“Clyde?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Brody. “The owner of the playhouse?” Clyde Reynolds had been invited to the press conference to ensure that all members of the community who would have a stake in the new park were included.

Part of their plan was to build a community amphitheater for open-air plays. That’s why they had only twenty-two days to get the park ready. The last run of the play would be held on day twenty-three. Right here.

Cat eyed Brody as he shrugged a blazer on over dark jeans and a light blue oxford shirt, and set off across the lawn in a lazy stroll.

“Does Dr. Hollister have something to do with the theater?” she asked absentmindedly.

Brody hadn’t looked anywhere but toward the small group of people she was standing with since he’d stepped from the car, and though she couldn’t see behind his glasses, she was almost positive that he had his gaze set on her.

Was he thinking about almost kissing her the night before?

About their friendly “date” coming up the next night?

Or maybe he was replaying their walk along the ocean.

All three of those things—as well as knowing he would be outside running on the beach—had been the impetus for getting Cat out of bed that morning with a happy attitude, no matter the mess her parents had made of all their lives.

Or the fact that she was in charge of cleaning it up.

In charge or not, she wouldn’t be doing all the work. She’d already hired a project manager for the job. The woman would be arriving later that day to get started.

“He sure does,” the mayor said, reminding Cat that she’d asked a question. She dragged her gaze away from Brody and glanced at the mayor, forcing a polite expression back to her face as he stretched out his hand to greet Brody. “He writes the best plays that Dyersport has ever seen.”

Cat’s smile faltered as her brain stuttered over the mayor’s words. She looked back at Brody.

He what?

Brody watched Cat as shock passed across her face. There was one secret out of the bag.

Not that he’d been planning to keep it from her—or that he would have been able to. His name was listed on the program. But he would have loved to get her honest feedback before she found out he was the playwright.

He flicked his gaze over the rest of her now, taking in her attire and noting that she was dressed for her Davenport role today. Slim, yellow tailored skirt with a perfectly ironed white short-sleeved button-up tucked into the waistband. Her blonde hair was pulled up behind her head, and she even had on tiny glasses. Dark, wire-rimmed frames that made him think naughty teacher instead of the dignified professional he assumed she was going for.

He’d seen pictures of her in glasses before. He liked it.

“Dr. Hollister.” She held out her hand, her tone polite. He looked at it before closing his fingers around hers. Did she not realize that everyone knew they were living beside each other? Of course they would be friendlier than “Dr. Hollister” and “Ms. Carlton” at this point.

Her hand was soft in his.

“Cat.” He dipped his head with the word. He wouldn’t tell them that she’d been the first girl he’d ever seen naked, but he also wouldn’t act as if they’d never met. “I heard you were out here,” he added, releasing her hand. “Something about a land donation?”

Clyde had only given him the barest of details. Land for a park was being donated, the city wanted it opened for closing night of the play. Clyde had been unable to come out himself when he’d gotten the last-minute call, but had caught Brody as he’d been leaving the college for the day. Brody had one summer class and kept morning office hours three days a week.

At first he’d been thrilled at the news. There would be another venue for the local acting community. And Dyersport could always use another park.

Then Clyde had mentioned the Davenports, and all the pieces had clicked into place.

Brody had seen the news that morning. Her family was in the spotlight at the moment, and not for a good reason. Of course, he assumed his “family” was behind it.

A secret Davenport mistress that had been hidden for nearly nine years? No doubt someone had helped that along at this opportune moment.

Or made it up.

Until he’d arrived, he’d assumed a fifty-fifty chance of the rumor being false. But Cat had quite the crowd assembled here. Her family was clearly intending to make some noise.

Which told him that Daddy Davenport
had
been the bad boy the news was making him out to be.

And, of course, Cat was going along with whatever her family needed her to do.

As she picked up a conversation with the mayor, city planner, and several other dignitaries about her plans for the park, Brody stepped to her side, inching closer until he was just slightly behind her, and waited until she stopped talking long enough to take a breath. When she did, he whispered, “Not coloring outside the lines today, are you, Cat?”

Her crystal-clear gaze shot immediately to his. She didn’t like having the obvious pointed out to her. Or maybe she didn’t like the role she was playing?

He gave her an evil grin. “Such a rule follower.”

Why he was teasing her, he didn’t know. Other than the fact that he’d almost forgotten who she was the night before. He’d been about to kiss her.

And he’d intended to take her to bed.

Luckily, she’d gotten a call and he’d had a moment to pull his brain back out of his pants. This was Cat. They did
not
need to be anything more than buddies.

For his sanity, but also for her peace of mind. A Davenport and a Harrison?

That would go over like a sinking ship.

Not that anyone would know, but still. If his brother or father were to find out—

The sound of a camera clicking caught his attention and he shifted his gaze from Cat’s perturbed expression to the nearest reporter. There was a lens focused directly on them.

Well, shit.

Arthur and Thomas Harrison would most definitely be watching the papers to see how the next round played out with the Davenports, and Brody did
not
want them to see him with Cat. It was none of their business whom he associated with.

He glanced at her as she suddenly smiled brightly and shifted her focus back to the crowd, no doubt aware of the cameras as well. His gaze clung to her lips as she talked.