by Law, Kim
“Your kids?” he asked immediately. The stricken look on his face comforted her.
“No.” Her hands began to shake. “I don’t think so. It was JP.”
“But you talk to him every morning, too.”
She had been that week. She swallowed and looked toward the back door, wondering if the news had already broken nationally. “My mother also sent a text,” she added softly.
She didn’t mention Bennett’s missed call, or what she suspected the problem actually was. Poor Bennett. She hadn’t wanted him to find out this way.
“I need to turn on the news.” She moved toward the door as if in a trance. Her legs felt twice as heavy as usual, and as if they no longer bent at the knees. “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” she mumbled, talking only to herself.
Brody gripped her by the elbow and led her into the house. She neither wanted to turn on the television nor to call either of her brothers back. She wanted to return to the deck with Brody. She wasn’t ready for more intrusions on their time.
And if this was the problem she thought it was, it would be a major intrusion.
So big, she’d have to go home.
No matter how angry she might be with her mother, if her brother’s lack of paternity had come out, Cat couldn’t ignore the scandal that would ensue—or how it would hurt her brother. Her mother would be finished for her run for reelection, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have major cleanup to do. The whole family would be all hands on deck.
Brody pushed her down to the couch as she brought up JP’s number. He grabbed the remote to turn on the television, and a well-known anchor for one of the major news stations filled the screen. In the background was a picture of Cat’s late father.
Her last bit of hope fizzled out.
The phone rang in her ear as the picture on the screen changed to a woman and young boy dashing from a car into a well-kept house, and Cat gasped. All the blood drained from her face. This wasn’t about Bennett after all.
JP answered the call, and at the same time Brody must have heard whatever the reporter had said on the television. He turned to her, his jaw slack.
She spoke to both men at the same time. “They found out about Dad’s other kid.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRODY PACED FROM his kitchen to the living room, while keeping an eye on Cat. With her announcement, she’d lost the color in her face, and it had yet to come back. Additionally, there were now cars lining the street out front. Someone had revealed where she was living.
Of course, the reporters were watching her rental, not his house. And his blinds were now closed. They didn’t know to point their cameras thirty feet to the left.
After Cat had finished talking with her brother, her phone had immediately chimed again. She was perched stoically on the couch now, talking in monotones to her mother. Brody listened in, feeling like a spy. Cat didn’t know his connection to Thomas. If she did, she would not be so open in her conversations in front of him.
He currently had a front-row view to the plans being laid out on the Davenport side of this race, and if he were the wrong kind of person, he could use that to his brother’s benefit.
He knew Thomas would be keeping a close watch on every last move right now. And he knew Thomas would be calling again. In fact, he already had. Brody hadn’t answered.
Thomas was calling only for information, and Brody had no information to share.
“Of course they did this,” Cat said into the phone. “We already covered that.” She rose and moved to the front door, where she carefully peeked out the side window, and Brody couldn’t help but take in her trim legs coming out from under his Stonehenge Rocks T-shirt. He liked her being comfortable enough to wear his clothes.
“I had nothing to do with it.” Her voice rose, one hand flitting in the air as she paced back and forth in his foyer. “Who would I tell? Why would I tell anyone?”
She listened, and Brody wondered if her mother was explaining to her at that very moment exactly who he was. Because in Emma Davenport’s eyes, he was the enemy. Especially with this kind of news. There was an illegitimate Davenport son. That was explosive.
He really should tell Cat who he was.
He’d actually considered it for one brief moment outside. If she’d said yes to going out in public with him, he’d sworn to himself that he would tell her. They couldn’t be more than they were if she didn’t know his background. And he wanted to be more than they were. No matter that she had thrown their just-sex rule in his face. The way he saw it, that had been her way of fighting her own feelings.
So he’d fought back by pushing forward. He wanted to know all about her. He wanted her to know about him.
He wanted to see if they could go somewhere other than to bed.
But there remained the issue of her family standing between them. The importance of the Davenport name was a viable living entity in Cat’s world, and it probably always would be.
Which would never allow them to coexist.
Brody would have to be first in a woman’s life or he wouldn’t be in it at all.
Cat blew out a breath. “Fine. I’ll be ready.”
She hung up and began punching out a message on her phone. She didn’t even look up at him. “JP is readying his jet to come and get me,” she informed him. “I’ll have to get back over to my place without those vultures out on the street catching me. Do you have a hoodie I can borrow?”
Brody stared at her. “You’re leaving?”
Of course she was leaving. Her mother had spoken, thus Cat would be getting on that plane. No thoughts about him. Him and her. Or the fact that she was the lead in his damned play.
Cat shot him a quick look. “They’re setting up a press conference for this afternoon. That barely gives me enough time to get there and get changed.”
“What about the play?”
It finally appeared as if something other than her precious family had crossed her mind. “Ah, crap,” she muttered. “Brody—”
“You’re really going to do that to me?” He cut in. “To everyone?”
“This is my job.”
“It’s your family.” He hid his hurt with anger.
“Exactly.” The word signified that he should understand. And he did understand. Politics and saving face would always come first with people like her.
“You have a commitment here,” he stated bluntly. “But hey, you’re a Davenport. That trumps everything doesn’t it?”
“Don’t be like that.”
“How am I supposed to be? Nothing will ever be more important for you than your precious name. No matter who it hurts. No matter how much it might have hurt you in the past.”
“You mean what you told me outside? About my mother breaking us up.”
“Does that not bother you at all?”
“Of course it bothers me,” she suddenly yelled. “I’m furious with her. And you can bet I’ll let her know it. But there’s not a hell of a lot I can do about it at this very moment, is there? And it just so happens, something a bit more important than what my mother did nineteen years ago has come up. I kind of need to deal with that first.”
They stared at each other, both furious, both breathing hard, and Brody beginning to wonder if it would’ve been better if she’d never come back. It would’ve hurt less.
“Please, Brody,” she began. The level of her voice lowered, but he could tell she was still riled. “I can’t be in the play now anyway, can’t you see? The press would hound the theater. Is that what you want? They’ll hound me when I so much as step outside.”
“Life must be rough for you.”
She turned angry eyes to his. “You’re not being fair. I’ll come back. I just need to be there for this. This one night. To show a united front.”
“Right. I’m the one not being fair.”
He moved to his front closet to pull a hoodie from a hanger, and tossed it to her. “I thought you were on vacation, Cat. I thought you had more backbone than this.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Can you ever really be on vacation from your family? What if your mother needed you?”
Cat had a point, but his mother would never ask him to ignore his obligations and leave a group of people hanging. And certainly not to protect her reputation.
He raked Cat over from head to toe. Ten minutes ago she’d looked to him like a woman he could consider risking everything for. He’d been ready to do anything to try to win her over. Even break his own rules about playing political games in public. She might be someone he could do that for—on occasion, and for good reason, of course. And he’d even believed he stood a chance.
But now, the only thing he saw standing before him was a Davenport.
Before he could think too hard about the heaviness in his chest at the thought of Cat going back to Atlanta—possibly never seeing her in the flesh again—his phone rang.
Thomas.
Shit. His brother would likely just keep calling. He was persistent when it came to politics. His doggedness had won him more than one race over the years. However, Brody had no desire to talk to him. He didn’t want to be used.
He also didn’t want to risk saying anything that could inadvertently hurt Cat.
Not that it mattered. Hell, she already had one foot out the door anyway.
He wouldn’t stand there and continue arguing with her, though. She clearly wouldn’t be changing her mind, thus more confrontation would only lead to him saying things he didn’t really mean. She said she would come back. That didn’t fix the fact that she was walking away to begin with. Leaving the play. Leaving him.
But it stupidly did something to his heart. Something he needed to fix.
Maybe talking to Thomas would help harden his heart.
He held up his still-ringing phone. “Don’t forget to let Clyde know you’re bailing.”
And then he very purposefully stepped out the back door and closed it soundly behind him.
“I assume she’s there with you?” Thomas oozed his special brand of charm the instant Brody answered the phone.
“What do you want?”
Thomas laughed the laugh of someone who knew he’d just won the grand prize. “I want you to tell me what’s going on. Mama Davenport ready to pull out yet?”
The entire situation made Brody sick. The games that went into running for office were beyond his tolerance.
“How did you even find this to leak it?” Brody bit out. Her dad had been dead for years. It had clearly been a closely guarded secret.
“Hey, there’s no proof it came from me. Not that I won’t pounce on it. It’s the best thing I’ve heard in . . . well . . . in a decade,” he finished, his final words said in such a purposeful manner as to put an itch between Brody’s shoulders.
“What happened a decade ago?” Brody asked carefully.
Thomas didn’t hesitate. “Your fiancée dumped you.”
A chill traced Brody’s spine. “And this made you happy?”
Brody had taken the job at Georgetown to be close to his brother. To form a relationship. They’d pretended to be friends over the years, meeting up a few times. But if they’d done it too often, the fear was that their actions might look suspicious. Yet Brody had always wanted more.
Thomas had been enrolled at the college at the time, and seeing each other in passing had made it possible to begin that relationship. His ex-fiancée, Devan, had gotten herself involved as well. Strategically, though unbeknownst to Brody at the time.
“She wasn’t right for you,” Thomas pointed out.
“How would you know?”
“Because she dumped you for Dad.”
Irritation squeezed like thick fingers around Brody’s neck. She’d dumped him to work for his father. Which still pissed him off. Brody had come home one afternoon, having decided to press her to set a wedding date. They’d been engaged for a couple of years at that point, and she’d sidestepped the conversation each time he’d brought it up.
Only, on that day, when he’d pushed, she’d pushed back. Said she’d have to clear the time off with her new boss. Once Brody had learned her new boss was his father, he’d given her an ultimatum. Brody might want to build a relationship with his brother, but he wouldn’t live with Arthur Harrison in his life. Ever.
Devan hadn’t even needed time to think about it.
“She used you since day one,” Thomas added. Which was true. After the breakup, Brody had realized that she’d only gotten serious about him after realizing he was “friends” with Thomas Harrison. The up-and-coming son of Senator Arthur Harrison.
Eighteen months after their engagement, after Brody had finally shared with his future wife who his father was, Devan had conned him into attending a fund-raising dinner for the express purpose of meeting Arthur. Brody had not been pleased to find himself standing in the middle of a crowd, pretending he and Arthur were longtime acquaintances, and being forced to introduce his fiancée.
And now?
Now Devan was press secretary for the White House. She’d gotten exactly what she’d gone after. Another step up the career ladder.
“You didn’t need someone like that.” Thomas’s words lost their charm and took on a seriousness Brody couldn’t remember ever hearing. “She was only out for herself.”
Brody suddenly recalled a rumor he’d heard not long after he’d moved to Dyersport. He hadn’t wanted to believe the rumor then.
He still didn’t.
However . . .
“You slept with her,” he stated. He didn’t need an answer. Thomas didn’t bother to give one.
Which was fine. Deep down, Brody had known all along. And he hadn’t been surprised. He supposed he’d never asked about it because then he could go on blindly pretending they shared nothing more than DNA.
“She came on to me,” Thomas explained.
Brody made a noise of disgust.
“You guys were over. I knew that. I also knew what she was up to. She had the job with Dad, but she wanted more. She wanted to be in the family.”
“Then why didn’t she marry you?”
A bark of laughter echoed through the phone. “Are you kidding me? I didn’t want to marry her. She was using me.” He could almost see Thomas shrug. “So I used her. I wanted to make sure that if you happened to have second thoughts, you’d see the type of woman she was and steer clear.”
Thomas was saying that he’d slept with Brody’s fiancée to protect him? Bullshit.
He’d slept with Devan because he was just like their father. He’d wanted to prove that he could. Because people like that did things for the pure power of it.
“She was livid to find out she’d barked up the wrong tree yet again,” Thomas told him.
Brody did get some slight satisfaction from that. “Yet she’s made her way to where she wanted to be,” he pointed out. “She always wanted the White House.”
“She also slept with many people to get herself there.”
Disgust had Brody moving to the railing. He let the wood press into his lower stomach as he leaned over the edging, wanting to vomit up the fact that he’d ever cared about someone who’d cared so little for him. She’d been conniving from the start. And he’d been a blind sap to ever think it was love.
Then it occurred to him what else Thomas was saying. Brody stood up straight.
“She slept with Arthur?” he asked.
“Still does from what I gather. An occasional thing.”
“But didn’t he remarry last year?” To some woman who was less than half his age, if Brody remembered correctly.
“Marriage has never kept our father’s pants zipped,” Thomas pointed out.
“What abo
ut you?” he asked.
“What about me?”
“Do you have a problem keeping it in your pants?” Thomas had gotten married two years before. Brody had been invited to the wedding. He hadn’t gone.
“My marriage is very happy,” Thomas stated.
Brody noticed his brother didn’t say monogamous. He simply couldn’t imagine living that kind of lifestyle. “I need to go,” he said abruptly. No possible good could come from this conversation.
“Can you at least tell me—”
“No.” He had no idea what Thomas intended to ask. But no, he wouldn’t tell his brother anything. Ever. “And don’t ask me to again.”
“Okay.” Thomas accepted defeat. “But the latest gossip wasn’t the only reason I called. I wanted to check on you.”
“Why?”
“You once told me about her,” Thomas said, his words coming out cautiously. “The summer we first met.”
Brody closed his eyes and tilted his face up to the sky. He had told Thomas about Cat. He’d been staying at the Harrison house in DC for a few weeks, having just learned who his father was—and still believing it mattered—when he’d seen the paper with the picture of Cat and Joseph Carlton in it. Thomas had caught him staring at the photo as if wanting the man to step out of the picture so Brody could rip his throat from his body.
“You were in love with her.”
“Lust,” Brody corrected. “We were kids.”
“You’re not kids now.”
He gripped the railing in his hand, taking note of two additional vehicles pulling up behind the line of cars already parked at the road. He could barely make them out through the trees, but they were there. All lining up, waiting to pounce. “What’s your point?”
“You back with her?”
Brody shot a glance at his back door as it opened. Cat stepped out dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and his hoodie. It completely covered her blonde hair and hung to midthigh. Her gaze landed on him.
Did she want him to tell her it was okay for her to go?
He wouldn’t do it. It was not okay for her to run back to Atlanta just because her mother told her to. There was more to life than living it for someone else.
