by Law, Kim
She wanted to be ready to appropriately thank him when he returned.
Twenty minutes later, Cat dropped onto the couch in Brody’s family room, once again taking in the disarray of books and papers. She’d hopped into the shower before pulling on one of his button-downs, and now sat waiting for her kids to call.
And trying to decide if she should clean up the room.
She settled on no.
There was no need to stress over something so insignificant as scattered books. Instead, she’d be totally frivolous. She grabbed a bottle of polish she’d brought over earlier in the week and propped her bare feet on the coffee table. She even kicked a book onto the floor that was in her way.
It was more of a gentle slide and tip off the side of the table, but she had used her foot. The delighted feeling the action produced made her laugh out loud. Brody was rubbing off on her.
She’d just started on her right foot when her cell rang. Her kids. The best part of her day.
“Hey, sweet girl.”
Tyler giggled on the other end of the phone. “We tricked you! I called you today.”
Cat laughed. “I hear that. Did you dial the phone yourself or did your sister do it?”
Tyler chortled this time. His full-belly laugh making her happy. “Becca did it for me,” he announced amid more giggles.
“Hi, Mom,” Becca spoke up. “I’m on grandma’s other phone so we can talk to you together.”
“Perfect,” Cat purred. “The best two people in the world, talking to me at the same time.”
Cat could picture both kids preening with the praise.
They settled into their normal morning routine. Tyler mostly making noises as he “zoomed” whatever toy he had in his hand, and Becca rattling nonstop about their plans for the day. It would be their last full day in Florida, so it needed to be special.
“Grandma says we can’t go to the ’quarium today like we planned,” Becca informed her as if stating something of high importance, “so she’s gonna take us to the park.”
Irritation ate at Cat. Not because her in-laws wouldn’t be taking the kids to the aquarium, but because they couldn’t. Cat had discussed the plans with the Carltons the day before. The three of them had decided something a little less public might be wiser.
But it pissed her off that her kids had to miss their trip to the aquarium with their grandparents because Cat’s father had cheated on her mother with a volunteer. That was exactly the kind of thing she didn’t want to infiltrate her kids’ lives.
“The park will be fun,” Cat said. She made sure she sounded excited.
“But we did the park already.” This came from Tyler. His sad little voice broke her heart.
“I’ll bet you’re looking forward to spending time with Uncle JP and Aunt Vega.” Change subjects. That would help.
“I am,” Becca chimed in. “Aunt Vega’s gonna buy me new shoes.”
“Ugh,” Tyler moaned. “Girl stuff. Me and Uncle P are gonna do somethin’ for boys.”
Cat laughed at her kids. She missed them so much. “And the week after that you’re all coming up here to see me.”
“Yes!” both kids shouted.
A beep signaled call-waiting and Cat glanced at the screen thinking it might be Brody.
It was her mother. She ignored it and continued talking. The kids told her all about the two sand castles they’d built the day before. But unfortunately, the ocean had swept them away before pictures could be taken.
Cat finished with her toes and leaned back on the couch as she listened to her kids.
Her feet remained propped on the coffee table, she had on Brody’s shirt, and her man was bringing her doughnuts. What could be better than that?
Her phone beeped again.
She ignored it again.
But she did eye the television. A sense of déjà vu had suddenly come over her. Yesterday morning had started out with her phone ringing off the hook, too.
The beeping stopped, then started once again. Dread settled in her gut.
“Let me call you back, sweetheart,” Cat interrupted when Becca took a breath. Cat told them both that she loved them and hung up.
Her phone rang in her hand.
“Turn on your television.” Her mother didn’t bother with pleasantries.
“What do you want?” Cat did not want to talk to her mother. Or do anything she said.
“The news, Catherine. Turn it on. Now.”
Anger was pushed aside for the moment as recognition set in, and cold fear whipped down Cat’s spine. Her mother wasn’t merely commanding. Her voice was frantic. It was . . . desperate.
That was different.
Without further delay, Cat searched for the remote but was unable to find it. She stood in the middle of the room and turned in a full circle, her gaze hitting every surface, wondering if the blasted thing was tucked under one of the many books on the floor. That was the reason to keep a clean room. So the remote could be found when your mother was yelling at you.
“Is it on?” her mother snapped out.
“I’m looking,” Cat snapped back as she gave up her search and went to her knees to fumble directly with the buttons on the television. “Which station?”
“Probably all of them.” Her mother’s reply was short and brittle. The anger seemed over the top.
But then Cat saw it. She sighed.
A picture of her and Brody was on the screen from last night. They’d been caught holding hands at the playhouse.
“I forgot to tell you,” she said sarcastically. “Brody and I are back together.”
Her mother was reacting about the way Cat had expected.
The screen changed to show more pictures. Her high in Brody’s arms right before he deposited her into his car. Them kissing the first night she’d been in the play. Several others.
But none of them was what her attention zoomed in on.
The caption printed across the bottom had Cat rising to her feet.
The reporter’s words seemed to run together, making Cat unable to understand anything being said, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to hear the words. The important part was staring at her from the bottom.
A Harrison and a Davenport . . . are they this century’s Romeo and Juliet?
What?
She walked backward, away from the TV, until the edge of the coffee table pushed into her calf. She sank to the top. More books tumbled to the floor, along with her nail polish. Brody was a . . .
She blinked and read the caption again, forcing her eyes to go slower. To make sure she understood what she was reading.
Brody was a Harrison?
Fury began to simmer inside her. He was Congressman Thomas Harrison’s brother?
How?
Her fingers clenched at her side as she tried to piece things together. The reporter was still rambling, not making a lot of sense, but the picture behind the woman changed, and suddenly Thomas Harrison’s face was there. Next to it was Brody’s. The air left Cat’s body.
Oh, shit.
It wasn’t completely obvious, but yes, she saw it. The same nose. The same chin.
She’d always thought he looked like his mother, but he’d also gotten features from his father. Features that matched his brother’s.
Nausea rolled through her as she stared at the two photos. An unconscious niggling pulled at her, as if she was missing something else, and she tilted her head to study the shots more closely. But what could she be missing? What she saw was enough.
Brody was Thomas Harrison’s brother.
Her hands began to shake. She’d slept with the enemy.
Another thought entered her mind. This one leaving her entire body trembling.
She’d told him about her mother writing a check to Lexi Dougard. She’d told him
that they hadn’t just found out about her father’s illegitimate kid!
What had she done?
She’d had the stupid notion that if she wanted to have something real with him, she had to share who she truly was. Where she came from. And where she came from was a family who wrote million-dollar checks to keep mistresses quiet.
“Oh, God,” she moaned. She was going to be sick.
“What have you told him?” Her mother clued right in on the problem.
“Nothing!”
Fuck. She wasn’t about to tell her mother what she’d told him.
She closed her eyes, trying to calm down. Reminding herself that this was Brody they were talking about. He cared for her. He wanted more than sex with her.
He had not been sleeping with her to get information for his brother!
She hoped.
She’d even admitted that Lexi had been only seventeen!
“It’s time to come home, Catherine,” her mother stated in a monotone. “Enough is enough. Quit playing these games and get on a plane.”
Cat shook her head; no words would come out. Brody was a Harrison?
“Do you hear me?”
“I hear you,” Cat whispered. But she had no idea what her mother had said.
“Get away from that boy,” her mother insisted. “I already fixed this problem for you once. I’m not sure I can do it again.”
The harsh words registered, reminding Cat of her mother’s involvement in her past.
“You shouldn’t have stepped into things before,” she growled out. “He told me you did.”
“Oh please, Catherine. If I hadn’t, you would have run off with the boy. You thought you were in love.”
“I was in love!” she shouted. She rose and began to pace. Something else was bothering her, just right outside of her consciousness, but she couldn’t quite connect the dots.
“You were sixteen. You didn’t know what love was.”
“I was pregnant, Mom. With Brody’s baby.”
“With a Harrison’s baby,” her mother spat out.
And that was it. The missing piece. “You knew.”
Cat stopped walking as it all fell into place. Nineteen years ago, she’d come home from her summer vacation and told her mother about her new love.
Her mother hadn’t said much at first, thinking Cat was silly and immature. But she had asked about Brody’s parents. Who were they? What did they do? Cat had assured her Brody was just someone she’d met in Maine. Her mother wouldn’t even know his parents.
A few weeks later, when Cat complained that Brody hadn’t called her lately, her mother had had plenty to say then. Namely, stay away from that boy.
But how had she known? And did it even matter?
The fact was, her mother had scoured out the information. Then she’d put a plan into action. A plan she hadn’t let Cat in on.
“Well, of course I knew.” Her mother’s words snapped out. She’d known nineteen years ago that the son of the “enemy” had gotten the daughter of the “upstanding, moral family” pregnant. That would have been reason enough to get rid of the baby.
At least in her mother’s eyes.
Yet she’d gone on and on about how it would be the best thing for Cat. For the baby.
“You were never worried about me.”
“Of course I was. You were sixteen. You couldn’t—”
“I could have,” Cat interrupted calmly. “We could have. You lied to Brody. You called his mother to make sure he didn’t take my calls. You hurt me, Mom. And I didn’t even know about it.”
“I don’t know what he’s been telling you.”
“He’s been telling me the truth. Far more than you have.”
“So you knew he was a Harrison?” her mother asked coldly.
That ripped at her. Because no. She hadn’t known he was a Harrison. Brody had kept that piece of information from her. And she didn’t yet know what to do about it.
“You didn’t need him in your life, Catherine. You had the baby to think about.”
Hurt and betrayal clogged Cat’s throat. Had her mother ever done anything out of love? Or was it all for PR?
“I was only thinking about you,” her mother tried again.
Tears began to flow down Cat’s cheeks. Her life could have been vastly different had her mother not gotten involved. What the difference might have been, she didn’t know. But it wasn’t right that she’d been cheated of the chance to find out. The pain sliced her from front to back. “I’m not sure you’ve ever thought of anyone but you,” she whispered brokenly.
“That’s ridiculous. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Right.” The garage door burst open and Brody stood there. His face was white, his eyes panicked, and there was a newspaper gripped tightly in his fist. “Only you love you more.”
She turned her back to Brody.
“I had to protect you,” her mother insisted.
“You had to protect you.”
The two families may have been political adversaries for decades, but Cat had never understood the absolute hatred her parents had for anyone with the Harrison name. It went too far.
“Don’t send the plane,” she whispered. She didn’t know what would come next, but she could not go back to Atlanta and face her mother right now. Not yet. “I won’t get on it.”
She hung up before her mother could say anything else, her hand gripping the phone so tightly she worried it might crush under the pressure. Her breathing came out ragged. She forced herself to calm down, turn off the phone, and wipe the tears from her face. Then she faced Brody.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BRODY REMAINED JUST inside the kitchen door, his eyes carefully watching hers. Everyone had lied to her. Everyone kept things from her. And he was no different.
“You slept with me,” Cat accused. “Without telling me who you were.”
“I didn’t know the first time.” He looked as pained as she felt. “You can’t blame me for that. I found out after I met you. I told you that this morning.”
“You didn’t tell me you were a Harrison this morning.” Her voice rose. She felt shattered.
“I had planned to. Before you took that call from your brother.”
Before she’d let her family come before her relationship. So it was her fault?
Which sounded about right. Her throat ached with more tears. She was the one with the shitty mother. The mother who’d intervened and reshaped their past. She was the one with the family secrets invading her life—and the grand need to constantly try to cover them up.
And she was the one who’d given away their baby. Oh God, she had to tell him.
But she wasn’t the one whose family was dragging hers through the mud.
“What have you told them?” she bit out coldly.
Fury exploded across his face. “Told them?” He took a step forward. “What? You find out who my biological father is, so you immediately assume that I’m the one sharing your family’s dirty laundry?”
She didn’t know what to think. “I told you things.” Her voice broke. She couldn’t believe she’d blurted out family secrets to a Harrison. “Yesterday, in your office. Things I shouldn’t have.”
“And you know I would never do anything with that information.”
“Do I? I didn’t know you were a Harrison!”
“I’m not a Harrison!” he bellowed.
He moved across the room so that he stood directly before her. His body was tight with rage. Hers shook with each breath she took. He scrubbed a hand over his face as if trying to rein in his emotions, and blew out a harsh breath. They looked like two strangers facing off.
“You know me, Cat. You know who we are. I’m not one of them. I never have been.”
“But you’re—”
; “Do not lump me into that category just because you’re used to everyone in your family using people.”
She gasped. “Not everyone in my family uses people,” she spat out. “JP is the best person I know. Bennett has served our country for twenty years. My father—” She paused. Her father may have loved her, but he was a bad example in this situation. “We’re good people,” she finished defensively.
“Yet even the good ones stand behind the lies. Your family has made its nest, Cat. Maybe it’s time they lie in it.”
The sounds of her breaths were heavy in the room. He was her family’s enemy. That kept repeating in her mind. He was one of them. She couldn’t be with him. Only . . .
She didn’t know who he was or what she could do anymore.
“Brody,” she whispered. She just wanted all the problems to disappear.
“I’m not a part of them, Cat. Come on. You know that. Think about it. I’m thirty-four years old and no one has ever been made aware that Arthur Harrison is my father. Why do you suppose that is?”
She stared at him. She hadn’t thought about that. But he wouldn’t have kept this a secret simply to use against her family. That made no sense. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
“I don’t talk to Arthur. Never. I met him at the age of sixteen, and my ex got me back in front of him when I was twenty-three. Twice in my lifetime. Two times too many. And I only speak to Thomas on the rare occasion. Only then because . . .” His words trailed off. He clenched his jaw and held his hands out to his sides. He looked defeated. “Because he’s my brother. And I once thought that might mean something.”
She wanted to believe him. What he said made sense.
She wanted to trust in her own feelings.
“But you didn’t tell me.” She ignored the inner voice calling her a hypocrite.
“No, I didn’t. Because we were supposed to just be sex.”
“It doesn’t matter. I deserved to know. Before sleeping with you.”
“Maybe. Yeah, okay,” he growled. “I should have told you. Given who you are and that it could—does—impact your life, you had a right to know. I’m an ass. I’m sorry. I knew that going into it. But admit it, you wouldn’t have come near me if you’d known. It would risk marring your perfect public image.”
