Caught in the Act (The Davenports)

by Law, Kim

  She had been close with her father. As the only girl, she’d once been the apple of his eye.

  And yes, learning he’d been unfaithful with a young girl working on his presidential campaign had damaged her memory of him. But it wasn’t as if she’d ever thought him perfect. He’d been a driven man. She’d known that all her life.

  “You most definitely should have told me when Mom confessed that Dad wasn’t Bennett’s father,” she chastised, refusing to let him off the hook. Their mother had come clean with that juicy morsel last summer as well. Only, she hadn’t shared who the father was. That would be for Bennett to worry about, if he was so inclined. She and JP had their hands full with all the other issues. “Have you heard from Bennett?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” JP confirmed. “I’ve got calls in to several people, but haven’t been able to find out anything about where he’s stationed. If he’s gotten my messages, he’s either where he can’t return the call, or he’s choosing not to.”

  She’d bet on the latter.

  Bennett was career army. He’d barely come back home since he’d left at eighteen. She couldn’t help but worry about him, though. More than usual. According to their mother, he wasn’t aware that his father was anyone but the man he’d grown up with. However, Cat had realized as a kid that Bennett had been treated differently. She’d simply had no idea why.

  He’d publicly been the honored oldest son of Jackson Parker Davenport Sr. Pride had shone from every pore of her father’s being. Yet at home, her father had barely had anything to do with him. It hadn’t been blatant, as he’d often had little time for JP either, but Cat had spent years watching this play out. She’d never mentioned it to Bennett, but she knew he couldn’t have missed it.

  This difference had likely led to him choosing to spend the last twenty years of his life away from his family instead of making sure to see them when he was stateside.

  But if the truth of his parentage managed to get out before they were able to tell him in person, she could only imagine that would hurt him worse. Learning the news would be bad enough. Learning it from the tabloids?

  Unforgiveable.

  “I’ll try to reach him, too,” she told JP. “Maybe if he gets a message from both of us he’ll realize it’s not simply a request to check in. And I’ll work on something to take the focus off Mom and the governor.”

  “No need,” JP said. “She’s putting out a press release Monday detailing a bill she’ll be presenting to Congress. It’ll get the attention back where it needs to be.”

  Her mother always had a backup. She may have only stepped into the limelight the previous year, but she was a born politician.

  A moving shape came into view far down the beach and Cat smiled. She couldn’t help it. It was the highlight of her day. What was a little vacation without secret fantasies involving a hot stranger?

  If only she had the guts to see if she could make it more.

  She picked up the binoculars and put them to her eyes.

  “Here comes Becca,” JP said in her ear.

  Before he could hand the phone to her daughter, Cat spoke his name.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Don’t do it again.” She didn’t have to say what it was. Don’t keep me in the dark. “I deserve better.”

  “I won’t. And yes, you do.”

  Brody Hollister pulled his T-shirt over his head as he continued running toward his beach house and mopped at his sweaty brow. Before he could stop himself, he let his gaze travel beyond his house to the one on the far side of it.

  It was a large home. Close to twice the size of his—though his wasn’t small. With an even larger front yard. That’s what had attracted Brody to the area. The houses not only sat on one of the few sandy beaches along the rocky coastline, but they were, for the most part, secluded from the road. Large pines filled both yards, while gates remained closed at the ends of the driveways.

  Not that he needed the privacy himself, but having it was nice.

  There were other houses in the area, spaced out farther down the beach, but these were the only two that sat side by side. They’d been built together several years ago, his once being the guesthouse for the original owners of the bigger home. Those owners rarely spent time there these days, instead renting out their remaining property pretty much year-round.

  A celebrity showing up for the summer wasn’t out of the question, usually with a passel of kids or extended family. But this year’s guest had shocked him.

  It had gone to a single woman.

  Who, yes, was a celebrity in her own right. Her family name made her one. But she’d been the last person he would have expected to find next door.

  Catherine Davenport Carlton had shown up a few days earlier, and if rumors were to be believed, hadn’t left the inside of the house for more than groceries since she’d arrived. She had ventured out to her deck, of course. He’d seen that one firsthand.

  According to those same rumors, she was here for the month. But what he really wanted to know was why she’d landed in the beachfront rental next door to him instead of at the Davenport compound farther down the coast.

  Everyone in the small town was abuzz about that very fact themselves.

  Having a Davenport around wasn’t all that unusual. The family had originated from Dyersport, after all. They’d owned their home and several pieces of land in the county for more than a century. Not to mention, they were a far-reaching bunch.

  There were cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents. Many of them had been involved in US politics in one way or another for decades. Several of them came to town on a regular basis for vacations and getaways.

  But never did they stay in a rental on the beach.

  Yet there she sat, blonde hair shining on the back deck, looking for all the world as if she belonged there. He watched her as he continued to jog in her direction. She had one hand to her ear as if talking on a phone. Her other was raised to her eyes, her face turned in his direction.

  She’d been out there each morning since she’d arrived. Sitting at the little glass-topped table, leaned back in the chair, but with her back straight and one leg crossed over the other.

  Pretending she wasn’t watching him.

  She wore what he thought of as her “Davenport air.” He saw it anytime she got captured on television or in the papers. She never had a hair out of place or appeared to be anything but important and influential. Just like every other member of her family. It made his stomach clench each time he witnessed it. All that fakeness was too much. He preferred things simple and straightforward.

  That’s why he lived on the beach. He had his job, his hobbies, and he had his town. He didn’t need what Cat brought to the party—even if finding out she was next door had stirred up something he hadn’t felt in years. Mostly curiosity. But there was more to it than that. Something that kept him watching her as carefully as she was watching him.

  He wondered if she recognized him. Did she know who lived next door?

  But then, how could she not? It was likely the reason she’d rented the house.

  And not, he suspected, due to their past. Not because of some long-lost need to have a conversation he might have once yearned for. They’d been teenagers, for heaven’s sake. Kids. It had meant nothing to either of them.

  No. She was there because she’d discovered who his brother was. Why else would she have binoculars?

  Though how she’d pulled that off, he had no idea. No one knew who his brother was.

  He wiped his brow once more, annoyed at the thought of her renting the house to spy on him. Did she think he wouldn’t figure out what she was up to?

  She wouldn’t find anything useful; that was for sure. He rarely spoke to his brother, hadn’t seen him in person in years, and never spoke to his “father.” He had zero information that could be of value to a
Davenport.

  Cat lowered the phone and clasped both hands in her lap, taking on that air he so despised. He’d once thought she was different than that. Different than every other politician he’d ever known. No matter who her family was.

  She turned to face the ocean as he neared, and he had the urge to make a right and confront her. He wanted to ask why she’d quit taking his calls all those years ago. Why hadn’t she come back the next summer as they’d each promised? What in the hell had changed from one week to the next?

  But then, he supposed he knew.

  He’d seen pictures of her and Joseph Carlton in a DC paper the following summer. The man had gone on to become her husband, while Brody had deduced that the DC trip had been the lowest point of his life.

  And not because of Cat.

  He passed by her house without so much as a glance in her direction. He had five miles to get in before he began the day ahead of him, and he didn’t miss workouts.

  Being distracted by a woman who was up to no good was not an option.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CAT LET OFF the brakes of the Honda sedan and made the turn from the narrow side road onto Main. It was Monday morning. She’d spent the remainder of the weekend alternately staring at her neighbor, thinking about how people had flings all the time, and taking late evening walks on the beach.

  And continuing to shake her head at the depth of her family’s secrets.

  Her mother had called both Saturday and Sunday, but Cat had let the calls go to voice mail. Her mother could be a little much sometimes, and Cat hadn’t been ready to talk to her yet.

  She wasn’t sure when she’d be ready.

  She opened the sunroof of the car to let in fresh air but was careful not to open it too far so as not to mess up her hair. She had a good impression to make that morning. Not just for herself, but for her whole family.

  After talking to JP on Saturday morning and then looking up the offending tabloids online, she’d decided that her mother’s planned press release could use a bit more oomph. She’d talked to her brother again yesterday, and the two of them had agreed to make a generous donation to the Dyersport Museum and Historical Center.

  There was a Davenport collection on display there that she’d been sending family memorabilia to for years. She intended to spend the morning enjoying the exhibits before talking to the proprietor about making a monetary donation. She also had an AP reporter out of Portland scheduled to show up later in the day for pictures. The article should run nationally.

  She did worry that a donation might bring attention to her being in the area, but was hopeful they could keep the focus on the good the Davenports were doing and not on the fact that one of them just happened to be in Dyersport.

  The people of the town knew she was there, of course. The few times she’d left the house she’d caught more than one person eyeing her as if excited to see what she might do next. But it was a laid-back little place. They weren’t into following her every move just because of who she was. And if Cat were to bet, she’d say they weren’t into running to the tabloids to report she’d been seen buying strawberries at the supermarket, either.

  At least, it hadn’t happened so far.

  Not that the paparazzi were a huge concern for her in Atlanta, either. That was mostly her brother’s issue, though less now that he was married. He was the epitome of hot, and until last year he’d been expected to follow in their father’s political footsteps. His refusal to accept the Senate seat left vacant by their cousin’s unexpected death had given their mother the opportunity to finally step forward.

  However, paparazzi following her or not, the world never stopped watching. That meant Cat was always careful with everything she said and did.

  She drove along Main Street, taking in the quaint storefronts lining the edges of the sidewalks, each building painted a different color. Yellow, orange, pink, green, blue, lavender. It was charming and added a nice sense of comfort. Dyersport was a calm, lovely place to spend a few weeks. She was glad she’d come. Even if everything she saw did make her think of her last summer here.

  Her first-born daughter would have graduated high school last month had she lived.

  Not that Cat would have been around to witness it. She’d made the painful decision to give her daughter up. That fact still weighed heavy on her heart. She should have done better for her. At times, she’d wondered if Annabelle had died of a broken heart because she’d believed her mother hadn’t wanted her.

  Which was ridiculous; Cat knew that. Annabelle had been born sick. Cat’s mother had found out months later that the baby hadn’t made it. While Cat had been clueless that her little girl had been struggling to live.

  Alive or not, Cat had been unable to forgive herself for walking away from her daughter.

  She hadn’t had a choice; she understood that. She’d been sixteen and her father had been running for reelection to the House. He hadn’t needed a pregnant teen on the campaign trail.

  But giving her baby up had destroyed Cat’s spirit. It had changed her.

  Given the chance for a redo, she’d often wondered if she would make the same decisions a second time. Was that really the type of person she was? Or had she merely let circumstances convince her otherwise?

  Possibly her guilt had as much to do with Brody as anything. She’d never told him. She’d tried. But she could have tried harder. He’d been even younger than she was, and no doubt as ill-prepared for parenthood as she. But still . . .

  Telling him was one decision she most definitely would do differently the second time around.

  He’d been from New Hampshire, here that summer attending a program at St. Mary’s College when they’d met and become fast friends. Nights of hanging out at beach parties had turned into more. She’d given him her heart.

  They’d had a glorious last day together that had ended with them making love. Then they’d gone their separate ways. Promises had been made. They’d talk, keep in touch. They’d return the next summer.

  But little of that had happened.

  There had been a few phone calls. Great calls. Calls she’d anxiously waited for.

  And then nothing.

  Cat couldn’t help but believe his life was better not knowing he had a kid who’d died, though. That was a pain she wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

  She pulled her head back out of the past and realized she was being watched. She smiled and waved at the residents dotted along the sidewalks. Some appeared to be owners opening up shop, others out for a morning walk. All with an easygoing sense about them. All seemingly blissfully happy. It made her once again think about how Becca and Tyler would love this town. She was anxious to get them up here.

  Though she was just as anxious to enjoy her remaining free time as a single woman.

  Which once again made her think of summer flings and getting naked with strangers.

  She mentally rolled her eyes at the thought. She couldn’t allow her hormones to get the best of her. The risk of dragging her kids into the middle of something like that wasn’t worth it.

  Heck, the risk of dragging herself into something like that wasn’t worth it.

  With her luck, it would make the front page of the national news. Cat Carlton finally dates again.

  She sighed. She couldn’t let that happen. This was a trip about remaining under the radar.

  Instead of driving straight through the square and taking the direct route to the museum, she turned beside a florist’s shop and headed down a street where she could see additional stores lining both sides of the road. She’d looked up a bakery before heading out, having decided to arrive at the museum bearing tasty treats. It seemed a good way to start her introduction off right.

  Several minutes later, as she slid back behind the wheel of her car with an armful of white boxes, she breathed in a lungful of sweet bread and salty air and
reached out to close her door. When she did, a sign in a window across the street caught her attention. Sea Mist Playhouse.

  Dyersport had a community theater? Her pulse sped up. She hadn’t been in a local theater in years. She’d loved being in the drama club in high school. She’d even been somewhat of a star.

  If only in her mind.

  She pulled the keys from the ignition and hurried across the asphalt to the entrance of the building to find a small sign stating that opening night for the next play would be this Friday.

  Too late to audition.

  She took a quick step back, almost falling in her haste, shocked that the thought had entered her mind. She wouldn’t want to audition even if there was time. She hadn’t done anything like that in years.

  But she could come back and see the play. That would be fun.

  Hurrying to her car, she pulled out of her parking spot feeling more lighthearted than she had in a long time, and made the turn onto Main. That lightheartedness allowed her to answer her phone when it rang. It was her mother.

  “Catherine.” Her mother breathed the word out as if Cat had been missing for weeks.

  “Hi, Mom. I’m just heading to the museum.” JP had filled their mother in on their plans. “Do you have your press release ready to go today?”

  “I’m fine, yes. It’s set to go out within the hour. But are you okay? It’s not like you to not take my calls. I’ve been worried sick.”

  No, it wasn’t like her. Normally she immediately jumped when her mother called, but this was her vacation. The way she saw it, she could ignore phone calls while on vacation if she wanted to. Especially when the subject matter wasn’t something she was anxious to discuss.

  She chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought about how to best answer her mother. No, she was not okay. Each of her parents had had a kid with someone else. They’d paid off her dad’s mistress. She wasn’t happy about any of it.