by Anne Rainey
When the doorbell rang her heart stuttered. She knew it couldn’t possibly be Dean, but she couldn’t help hoping he’d come for her, ready to profess his undying love. When she heard her friend Mary call out to her, Catherine rolled her eyes. “Go away!”
“Open up or I’ll pick the lock.”
Catherine frowned, but deep down she was glad to have her friend’s company. Leaving the couch behind, Catherine went to the door and unlatched it. “You know how to pick locks?” Catherine asked as she opened the door.
Mary merely pushed her way inside and said, “Yes, now what the hell is going on with you?” She looked around at the mess and screwed up her nose. “Uh, it looks like shit in here. What have you been doing for the last two weeks?”
“Working, what else?” Catherine growled as she headed back to the couch. When she picked up her beer to take a drink, Mary arched her brow and plucked it right out of her hand.
“Enough already. Get your butt in the shower before I have to drag you there myself. You look horrible.”
Catherine didn’t take long to think over Mary’s threat. She knew her too well. Mary was always as good as her word. Besides, she was right, she did look like hell.
“I’ll be back.”
“Take your time,” Mary said as she looked her over. “Seriously.”
Catherine rolled her eyes and left the room. She tried not to think about Dean when her gaze strayed to her bed. God, how she wished he were there. She felt her stomach quiver in response as she imagined him sprawled out on top of her blankets, a delicious grin on his gorgeous face as he held a hand out to her. Damn, there went the tears again. Evidently, she wasn’t quite through. Yippie.
After she finished her shower, Catherine slipped into a clean pair of heather-gray cotton shorts and a white tank. She tucked her hair under a towel and went to find Mary. She was surprised to see the living room all spick-and-span. When she went into the kitchen, Catherine found Mary doing the dishes. “Might as well get a pot of coffee going,” Mary said when she looked over at her. “I think we’re going to need it.”
“I don’t want to talk about Dean,” she mumbled as she took the coffee can out of the freezer.
“Too bad,” Mary said as she rinsed the last dish and set in the drainer to dry. “You’re going to anyway.”
Catherine slammed a couple of mugs on the counter, surprised when they didn’t break, and asked, “Geez, since when did you get so bossy?”
Mary chuckled. “All part of my charm, hon.”
For the first time since leaving Ohio, Catherine laughed. The sound was foreign to her ears, but it was a start. Catherine looked over at her friend and said, “Thanks for coming over.”
Mary pointed to a kitchen chair and said, “Sit, while I get the coffee.”
Catherine did as she was told and sat down. She watched Mary pour the coffee and felt like a heel for being such a jerk. “I’m sorry for being a grump,” she said. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you.”
“We’re lucky to have each other,” Mary said as she sat across from her. “Now that we’re all lovey-dovey, what are you planning to do about the hottie who has your panties all in a twist?”
“I don’t know,” Catherine said, as she stared down at her coffee.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes,” she muttered. “I feel like my insides are being torn apart.”
Mary threw her hands in the air. “Then what’s the problem?”
“He lied to me,” Catherine gritted out. “He pried into my background and didn’t bother telling me about it.”
Mary winced. “Wow, you told me he didn’t trust you, but I didn’t think he’d go that far. What’d he discover?”
Catherine took a sip of her coffee. The hot liquid reminded her of the way Dean had made her the yummy hot chocolate. The coffee tasted like dirt in comparison. “He found out information about my real father,” she told Mary.
Her eyes widened. “Your biological father? Seriously?”
Catherine nodded as she related the story to her. “I’m the product of that monster, Mary.” She recoiled thinking about it. “I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“That’s crap and you know it,” Mary said, her lips thinning in anger. “You aren’t the product of anything except your mama and daddy. We both know that.”
She pushed her coffee away, no longer wanting it. “It makes sense why they didn’t tell me I was adopted, at least.”
“Yeah. They were trying to spare you the pain.” Mary paused, then asked, “So, Dean was a total bullheaded ass. What do you plan to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if it were my man acting like that, I’d want to smack him upside the head. I’d want to make him grovel a little, but I wouldn’t give up on him. Not if it’s the real deal.”
“It is the real deal, but—”
“But nothing!” Mary shouted. “I saw the flowers he sent. I read the cards. He loves you and he wants you back. Don’t you think you owe it to both of you to at least talk to him?”
Catherine frowned down at the table, considering Mary’s words. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
Mary reached a hand across the wood surface and laid it on top of Catherine’s. “Look, I don’t know him, but it doesn’t appear to me that he sees you as some passing fancy.”
Catherine remembered the stricken look on his face when she’d left. He’d looked as if she’d kicked his puppy. She didn’t want to think of him hurting. “I know he cares about me, but I can’t stop thinking about the way he went behind my back to dig up dirt on me. If he’d only told me.”
“No doubt about it, he screwed up, but do you want to risk losing him for good over it?”
As Mary’s words sank in, Catherine felt sicker and sicker. “Oh, God, you’re right. I’m miserable without him.”
Mary smiled and sipped her coffee. “If you ask me you’re both a couple of stubborn mules. Heck, you sort of deserve each other.”
“Great, but there’s a catch,” she muttered. “He lives in Ohio, not exactly a quick trip back and forth.”
“If you love him, then you’ll figure something out. And I’ll bet my last dollar that he’s kicking himself in the ass for letting you walk away.” Mary winked and said, “Maybe you should invite him here. I wouldn’t mind meeting him.”
Could she be so bold as to call him and invite him to Atlanta? It’d been two weeks and she hadn’t returned a single one of his phone calls. Would he even want to see her after all that time?
Still, Mary was right. She loved him. She was miserable without him. It was time to stop moping and do something about it.
The next morning, Catherine stood in her bathroom, staring at the little plastic stick in her hand, willing it to change. It didn’t. The little plus sign wasn’t going away. It was the second test she’d taken.
She was pregnant. Dean Harrison was going to be a father.
The first thing she needed to do was call him. This was so not the way she’d hoped their meeting would go.
“How is it possible that the first chance I let myself have some fun I end up pregnant?”
She wanted to shout to the heavens at the unfairness of it. Fat lot of good that would do. Wishing it away wouldn’t help the situation. She’d tried to wish her parents back alive, and it hadn’t worked. She’d tried to wish her biological father wasn’t a rapist, and that hadn’t worked either. Catherine stomped on the miserable thoughts and concentrated on her current situation.
“A baby,” she said as she covered her stomach with her hand. What sort of mother would she be? Sadness welled up as she thought of how happy her mama would be if she were alive. She could almost hear her soft voice making plans for a nursery. No doubt about it, her parents would’ve spoiled her baby something fierce.
She looked up at the ceiling and whispered, “I miss you, Mama.”
When the phone rang, Catherine jumped. Could it be Dean? This time she wasn
’t going to send him to her answering machine. She ran out of the bathroom and bounded across her bed, answering it on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Catherine?” Gracie said on the other end. “Is that you? You sound winded.”
Her sister, and one of the few people who would understand her predicament. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up? Is Wade treating you right?”
Gracie and Wade were moving right along on their wedding preparations. The last time she’d talked to Gracie, she and Wade were having issues about the flowers. Gracie felt they were too expensive, but Wade had insisted she go all out, considering it’d be the only time she ever walked down the aisle. Catherine thought Wade was perfect for her sister.
“I threatened to drag Wade off to the nearest judge if he doesn’t stop insisting on having the best of the best of everything. This wedding is going to cost a bloody fortune.”
Catherine laughed. “That man is so stupid in love with you, Gracie. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, sis.” There was a beat of silence, then Gracie said, “Uh, there’s something else I wanted to share with you. A bit of news. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
Boy, do I have news for you. “Spill it, the suspense is killing me.”
“Um, well, I’m pregnant.”
Was it even possible? She went back to the bathroom, holding the phone to her ear, and stared at her own two tests.
“Catherine? Did you hear me?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m here.” Then she realized she hadn’t congratulated her. “Oh, Gracie, this is fantastic news!” Something else occurred to her and she grinned. “I’m going to be an aunt!”
Gracie laughed, and Catherine heard Wade say something in the background. “Wade says it’s the potent Harrison DNA. He’s outrageous,” she said, love and happiness in her voice.
Catherine nearly choked. Potent Harrison DNA? Yeah, Gracie didn’t know the half of it. “So,” Catherine said as she went back to the bedroom, “let me get this straight. You’re getting married to the most wonderful man in the world, and you’re going to have his baby. Now that’s what I call a happily ever after ending.”
She heard Gracie sigh. “I know, it’s too much sometimes. I have to pinch myself to make sure it’s not all a dream.”
“Of course it’s real. No one deserves it more than you, hon.”
“Thanks, Catherine,” Gracie said in a shaky voice. “I love you so much.”
“Don’t get all wishy-washy or I’ll start crying, and then we’ll each be an emotional mess.”
“I’ve been like that a lot lately. I wonder if it’s the hormones,” she said.
“Probably,” Catherine replied, since she was feeling pretty darn weepy too.
“Well, I need to go,” Gracie said. “Wade is pestering me to get in touch with the flower shop. He says he needs to keep wielding the whip so things stay on schedule. He’s quite the taskmaster.”
They said their good-byes and Catherine placed the phone back on the cradle. She looked down at the two test sticks in her hand and sighed. She’d ached to tell Gracie, but she hadn’t wanted to dampen her sister’s happiness in any way. Besides, she needed to tell Dean first. She frowned as she considered Dean’s reaction and that of his family. What would they all say once she told them? Either way, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.
Would Dean want her after he learned he was about to be a father? Would he want his child? She didn’t know the answers to those questions and that scared her. Before she lost her nerve, Catherine slipped the little pregnancy sticks in the dresser drawer and picked up the phone. She called the airlines and booked the earliest flight to Ohio. Her hands were shaking as she got off the phone. The extra trip would cut into her savings, but she had to have a little faith. She loved Dean and he’d said he loved her too. It was time to put those declarations to the test.
29
It’d been two friggin’ weeks. Two weeks of dreaming of Catherine’s perfect freckled skin and sexy green eyes. He missed her smiles the most. Every time he walked into his bedroom he was confronted with the bed he’d shared with her, and the sketch she’d left behind. She’d done a damn good job of avoiding him, and he’d had enough. He’d tried everything to get her to open up and talk to him. He loved her, damn it. He wanted to share his life with her, but that was going to be damn hard to do if she wouldn’t even answer her phone.
Dean remembered the way she’d looked tied to his bed. He kept seeing her face as she’d exploded all around his cock. And just like that, his dick swelled and hardened. He had to shift around in his chair so his cock didn’t feel strangled in his jeans.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he stared at the screwed-up bid he’d been working on for the last hour. He wadded up the paper and tossed it in the trash before starting to figure it up all over again.
A sound outside his office drew his attention away from his thoughts. It was a woman’s voice. And not just any woman. He’d know that sexy tone anywhere.
Dean shot out of his chair and headed out to the front. She’d come back to him? His heart sped up when he spotted her. For whatever reason, she had come to him, and this time he wouldn’t be letting her go. Never again. He wouldn’t survive it.
“I’m sure he is busy,” Catherine said, “but I want to talk to him.”
Dean watched from across the room as Catherine frowned at his new receptionist, Gloria. The girl was young, but she was smart and he thought she’d been doing a good job so far. But he didn’t much care for her attitude toward Catherine.
While the women were distracted, Dean took a moment to drink Catherine in. God, she looked good. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wore a white T-shirt and jeans. Dean had never seen anything more beautiful.
He heard Gloria deny Catherine’s plea, and Dean frowned. Hell, when he’d told his receptionist that he didn’t want to be disturbed, he hadn’t expected Catherine to pop up out of nowhere.
“Look, miss, he’s busy. Come back tomorrow, or better yet, call and make an appointment with him.”
“I don’t need an appointment and I’m not coming back,” Catherine said, clearly frustrated. “I want to see him now.”
Dean figured Catherine had had enough. He cleared his throat, drawing the women’s attention immediately. Gloria rolled her eyes and said, “She said she knows you, but I told her you’re busy.”
Catherine looked up and their gazes locked. Even from across the room, Dean could see how nervous she was. “I’m sorry to just burst in here like this, Dean, but we need to talk.”
Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb to keep from striding across the room and taking her into his arms. “Thanks, Gloria, I’ll take it from here.”
Gloria gave him a grateful look. “Good luck,” she muttered.
Yeah, he’d need all the luck he could get, but he didn’t much care for the way Gloria acted toward Catherine.
“Let’s make something clear,” he said to the young woman. “Catherine doesn’t need an appointment and she is never to be kept waiting. Remember that in the future, okay?”
Gloria visibly paled. “Of course, Mr. Harrison.”
Dean sighed. “I told you to call me Dean,” he muttered. He looked over at Catherine and held out a hand. “Come on, we can talk in my office.” It didn’t escape Dean’s notice when Catherine didn’t take his hand as they headed to the back.
After they entered the small room he closed the door. He moved around the desk and sat, then waited as Catherine sat in the chair across from him. Her back was ramrod straight and she clutched her purse in her lap. God, it was killing him to keep his distance, but until he knew what she was up to he couldn’t very well come at her like a bull in a China shop.
With her mass of red hair tied back in a ponytail and no makeup on, she looked all of eighteen. He had to grip onto the arms of the chair just to keep from leaping across the desk. “Gracie didn’t tell me you were coming,” he said, hoping to
get them around the awkward silence.
Catherine’s eyes lit with humor. “She doesn’t know I’m here. I haven’t told her. I plan to surprise her later.”
Damn, she was so pretty when she smiled. It’d been way too long since he’d seen here. He felt it like a punch to the gut. He’d been a miserable bastard since she’d left. Everyone had been steering a wide path around him, but one smile from Catherine and his world was right again.
Christ, he was so fucking in love with her. He knew now that what he’d felt for Linda paled in comparison. Catherine was the real deal and he would do anything in his power to prove they belonged together.
“You wouldn’t take my calls.”
She looked down at her lap. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I hurt you and I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “More sorry than you can ever know.”
Catherine started to fidget, as if trying to figure out how to tell him something. For the life of him he couldn’t imagine what. “The direct approach is always best,” he said, his voice softening.
She looked across the desk and blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
Dean blinked, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “Say again?”
Catherine covered her belly with the palm of her hand and said, “I’m pregnant, Dean.”
Dean’s gaze zeroed in on her still-flat stomach. “Wow.”
She shot from the chair and paced around the room. “I thought you should hear it in person. You’re going to be a father.”
Dean came out of his shocked stupor and said, “Are you certain?” He shook his head. “I mean, I thought you were on the pill.”
She stopped and turned. “I’m certain. And I was on the pill, but in all the . . . excitement I got off schedule, I guess.” She turned red and looked at the far wall, as if finding the dull tan paint fascinating.
He stood and went to her. Dean quickly noted her pale face and trembling body. Was she about to cry? He took her into his arms and held her tight. God, she felt good there. She felt right.
