Some Kind of Wonderful

by Barbara Freethy

  "I'll come with you," Caitlyn replied. "I'll talk to Brian later."

  Matt followed her to the French doors leading into the family room. They were almost home free when Brian stepped away from her father with a wary smile and greeting.

  "You remember Matt and his niece, Emily?" Caitlyn said politely.

  "Yes," Brian said with a nod, not looking at all pleased to see Matt again. "He's your... neighbor."

  Matt didn't like the way Brian said the word neighbor, as if he were spitting out something distasteful. "Honey, I think we should change the baby," Matt said, deliberately implying that Caitlyn was more to him than a neighbor. He didn't know why he did it, because he certainly hadn't intended to give Caitlyn's family the wrong impression, but there was something so smug about Brian that his competitive instinct immediately sprang to the fore.

  Caitlyn's jaw dropped at his endearment, but Matt didn't wait for a response from either her or Brian. He headed into the house and scooped the diaper bag off of a nearby table.

  "What was that 'honey' all about?" Caitlyn demanded, catching up to him in the hall.

  "Bradley looks at you like he owns you."

  "Well, Brian doesn't. And that's not because you called me honey."

  She grabbed Emily's diaper bag out of his hand and walked up the stairs. "Come on."

  "Can't we just do it down here somewhere?" Matt asked, not sure he wanted to see any more of Caitlyn's life. On second thought, judging by the stink of Emily's diaper, changing her on top of the mahogany dining table probably wouldn't be a good idea.

  "In here," Caitlyn said, leading him into a bedroom.

  It was a beautiful room, white walls, soft lacy curtains, and a large queen-size bed filled high with fluffy yellow pillows. A plush armchair and matching ottoman were placed comfortably by the window, offering a view of the trees outside. There was an array of feminine things in the room, perfumes, music boxes, and pictures.

  "This is your room," Matt said.

  "Was my room."

  He stopped by the dresser to check out a picture of a young Caitlyn. She was standing by a bus with a backpack at her feet and couldn't have been more than about ten.

  "That's my fat picture," she told him as she walked into the adjoining bathroom to get a towel.

  "Fat?" The girl was a little pudgy but certainly not obese.

  "My mother told me she'd signed me up for this great camp in Santa Rosa," Caitlyn said as she returned to the room with a towel, which she spread over the bed. "It turned out to be a camp for fat kids. They fed us celery and carrots and made us hike ten miles a day. So much for the art, watercolors, and charades I was expecting."

  "Doesn't sound like fun."

  "It wasn't supposed to be fun, it was supposed to be good for me."

  "Your mother knows what she wants."

  "And goes after it full steam ahead," Caitlyn agreed. "She can be a little ruthless. I'll take Emily."

  He handed her the baby and dug his hands in his pockets as he watched Caitlyn change Emily in record time.

  "That's better, isn't it, sweetie?" Caitlyn fixed the tape on a new diaper. "Let's hope your mother doesn't try to change every last thing about you."

  "Being smothered with motherly attention isn't the worst thing that can happen to you," Matt reminded her.

  A guilty look flashed in her eyes, as well as a glint of irritation. "Maybe not the worst thing. You wouldn't understand."

  And he didn't. How could he when he'd had absolutely no motherly attention? From where he stood, Caitlyn's life looked pretty damn good. "Look at your bedroom," he said with a sweep of his hand. "Who could be unhappy here? It's a room for a princess, a pampered princess."

  "You think I'm spoiled?" she snapped.

  "I think you got everything you wanted."

  Caitlyn looked like she was counting to ten, and there was a thundercloud gathering in her eyes that told him he should probably shut up. But he'd never been very good at avoiding trouble. And in truth he wanted to fight with her. He wanted to remind himself that this would never be his world and a woman like Caitlyn would never be his woman.

  He had to suck in a breath of air at that thought, because the real truth was he wanted her to be his woman.

  "You're just like the rest of them," Caitlyn said.

  It wasn't what he'd expected. "You're comparing me to your parents?" he asked in amazement. "That's a laugh."

  "Why? You're just as ruthless, critical, judgmental, making comments about something you know little about but acting like you know everything there is to know."

  "So what are you trying to say? You were the lonely little rich girl? No one understood you? You didn't get to go to a real camp? It still doesn't compare to growing up wondering where your next meal is coming from. That's trouble, Caitlyn. That's adversity."

  "Fine, you win. Your mother was worse than my mother. Are you happy now?"

  "It's not about winning," he grumbled, her comment making him feel like he was about ten years old.

  "Then what is it about?"

  "You and me," he said with a cryptic wave of his hand.

  Caitlyn sat down on the bed and adjusted Emily's sleeper. "You're going to have to give me more than that."

  "I don't fit in here."

  "No man does," she said. "It's a girl's room. In fact, my mother designed it to make boys feel uncomfortable so they wouldn't think about sneaking up here with me."

  "That's not true."

  "It is true," she said. "But you're right. I did have an okay childhood. I certainly had more than the basics. Maybe I was due for a fall. Maybe that accident was a way for fate to balance the scales." Her face grew pensive. "Maybe I deserved what I got because I had so much and I didn't appreciate it."

  "Whoa there. No one deserves to fall down a mountain or to be hurt. That wasn't my point."

  "I'm not sure you had a point."

  He wasn't so sure, either. But he didn't know why she didn't think she measured up to her parents. As far as he could tell, she was a very bright woman, perceptive, intuitive, compassionate. Okay, this wasn't working. He was supposed to be concentrating on the negative, not the positive.

  She shrugged. "Well, it doesn't really matter. I am who I am, shaped by everything in my life, the good stuff and the bad stuff. And frankly, I've worried too much about what other people think of me, so whatever you think of me -- so be it. I'm not going to apologize." She looked up at him and shook her head. "I can't believe the deep conversations we have. Haven't you ever heard of polite chitchat? Where you talk about the weather and the ball game and who's dating Jennifer Aniston?”

  "Who is dating Jennifer Aniston?”

  "That's better."

  He sat down on the bed next to Emily, who was looking with delight at a couple of stuffed animals on top of Caitlyn's dresser. He wondered what kind of bedroom Emily would have. One like this, he hoped. What a hypocrite he was, condemning Caitlyn for having what every little girl should have, what he'd want to give his own little girl.

  That thought hit him like a punch in the gut. He wanted his own daughter. He wanted a bedroom like this one in his house. He wanted pictures on the dresser, height marks on the doorway, stuffed animals on the bed.

  "What are you thinking?" she asked, a curious note in her voice.

  There was no way in hell he was going to tell her. "Nothing."

  "I guess we should go downstairs."

  "In a second."

  "What? You're not ready to face my incredibly wonderful parents? Have brunch off China plates and sip on champagne cocktails? Didn't you just say I had everything? So why the hesitation?"

  "Facing your mother is a bit like going before the firing squad," he admitted.

  "My beautiful mother?" Caitlyn asked in mock wonder. "Really?"

  "Okay, I'll admit that having material things isn't everything," he conceded. "But I always thought I'd like a shot at being rich and unhappy instead of poor and unhappy. At least I could sunburn my sorr
ows while I was sailing on a yacht instead of counting the cockroaches darting under my bed."

  "There aren't any cockroaches in your apartment now. In fact, I bet you make a pretty good living -- a single guy, a good job, no furniture. Oh, my God! I bet you even have a bank account." She put a hand to her mouth in horror.

  "A small one, maybe." He liked the fact that she could give it right back, that his harsh words hadn't sent her into an all-day sulk, which would have occurred with many of the women he'd dated over the years. Not that he ever would have allowed himself to speak so freely or so openly. But there was something about Caitlyn that made him feel like he could be himself.

  "And you have a nice car, too," she said with a growing smile. "Yeah, you're really suffering these days."

  "I might be a little lonely."

  "Well, lonely isn't real trouble, real adversity, Matt, it's just lonely. You can get over that. Get yourself a cat."

  He laughed out loud. "You're enjoying yourself now, aren't you?"

  "Pretty much."

  Emily gave a little gurgle, as if she, too, were enjoying herself.

  Matt shook his head. "Figures you'd both gang up on me. After all, you're both female."

  "Caitlyn?" Brian's voice caught them both off guard. He stood in the doorway, a frown spreading across his face as he took in their cozy appearance on the bed. "Am I interrupting?"

  "No," Caitlyn said.

  "Yes," Matt said.

  "I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes before brunch is served," Brian replied.

  "I'm listening."

  "Alone?" He sent Matt a pointed look.

  "I can hardly ask Matt to leave. He's a guest."

  At her words, Matt made himself more comfortable on the bed, ignoring Brian's look of displeasure. He probably should leave them alone, but he didn't feel like it. The guy was an ass, and he didn't deserve one second of Caitlyn's time.

  "Fine." Brian took a deep breath, then continued. "I thought about what you said yesterday, about my impulsive comments in the hospital after your accident. I realize now how deeply I must have hurt you, which in turn must have influenced your reaction later on when the fellowship came up. I'm very sorry. I can't take my words back, but I wish I could."

  Matt saw Caitlyn lick her lips and wondered if she was actually buying this load of crap. Damn. Her eyes were moist like she was about to cry, like she was about to jump off the bed and give Brian a big old reunion kiss. Couldn't she see that the guy wanted her back now because she was healthy and beautiful? What would happen when life knocked them down again? She wouldn't be able to count on this man.

  "Maybe you should leave us alone," Caitlyn said to Matt.

  Before he could tell her he wasn't going anywhere, Emily let out a sharp cry. Good girl, Matt thought with a small smile, as Caitlyn immediately turned her attention to the baby.

  "What's wrong, sweetie?" Caitlyn picked Emily up and cuddled her in her arms.

  "Can't you take her for a minute?" Brian said impatiently to Matt. "She is your niece, isn't she?"

  "She's hungry," Caitlyn said to Matt. "I know that cry."

  "Can't he feed her?" Brian asked.

  "Emily likes Caitlyn to give her the bottle," Matt said.

  "I don't think that's true," Caitlyn replied, but she didn't give up the baby. Instead, she turned to Brian and said, "I appreciate what you're saying, but this isn't the time or the place to have this discussion."

  Matt frowned. Didn't she realize her statement was leaving the door open for future conversations? Brian, too, interpreted her words that way, his eyes lighting up with optimism.

  "Would you at least consider having a meal with me one day this week, if for no other reason than old times' sake?"

  "Why don't you call me?" Caitlyn stood up and walked to the door, pausing in front of Brian. "I know that on the outside I must look like the girl you used to love, but the truth is she's gone, and she's not coming back. The last year and a half changed me forever. You better think about that. There is the possibility that you might not want me back."

  "I don't think so, Caitlyn. But let me get to know you now. That's all I'm asking."

  "I'll -- I'll think about it," she said as she left the bedroom.

  Matt followed Caitlyn down to the kitchen, wanting to shake some sense into her. It was ridiculous to give that idiot a second chance. He'd left her once. That should have been enough to tell her he wasn't a man to be trusted.

  "Why did you leave the door open?" he demanded as she entered the kitchen. Thankfully, they were alone, the cook or whoever she was having gone out to the deck to serve appetizers.

  Caitlyn sent him a puzzled look. "What door? That door?" She pointed to the kitchen door.

  "No, the door to your relationship. You should have cut him off at the knees. Instead you gave him hope."

  She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I was engaged to the man. All he wants now is one meal. I didn't know what else to say."

  "How about 'Hit the road, Jack'?"

  "I couldn't do that."

  "For God's sake, Caitlyn, the man left you in a wheelchair. How can you let him back into your life just like that?"

  "I'm trying not to."

  "You better try harder. Because right now I guarantee you he's calling around for dinner reservations."

  "I just don't want to hurt him unnecessarily."

  "You are too damn... nice," he said spitting out the word like it was foul tasting.

  "You think I'm too nice?" She looked more pleased than upset.

  "I didn't mean that as a compliment. You shouldn't let people take advantage of you."

  "Oh, you mean like when someone knocks on my door and asks me to help him take care of a baby?"

  "How long are you going to throw that at me?"

  Caitlyn considered the question. "For a while, I think."

  Her wicked smile took his blood pressure up a notch. How he wished they were alone -- no baby, no family, no old boyfriends around -- so he could wipe that smile off her face in his own very personal way. He couldn't help licking his lips, and saw Caitlyn follow the move with a pair of widening eyes.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, a breathless note in her voice.

  "Nothing."

  "That's not nothing," she said. "You licked your lips like you were thinking about..."

  "About what?"

  "You know."

  "Why don't you tell me?"

  "Like kissing me. And if that's the case, you better stop thinking."

  "And start acting? I agree," he said, moving swiftly forward to steal a brief but passionate kiss that left his mouth tingling.

  "That was..."

  "You're having trouble completing your sentences," he told her huskily.

  'Too short," she finished.

  He shook his head in disbelief. "You're one of the few people who doesn't say what I expect you to say."

  "I'll take that as a compliment. And by the way, I'm taking the too nice thing as a compliment, too."

  Emily gave a cry, reminding them that she was still hungry and they better get back to business. "I'll take her. You can make the bottle," Matt said, reaching for the baby.

  "What's going on in here?" Jolie asked as she entered the room.

  Caitlyn blushed. Matt saw it. So did Jolie.

  "Just getting Emily a bottle," Caitlyn said hastily.

  "Really?" Jolie sent them both a thoughtful look. "You three look like a family, you know that?"

  "We're not," Caitlyn replied.

  "No, we're not," Matt echoed, but he had a shocking feeling he wanted them to be just that.

  Chapter Nine

  "Where are we going?" Caitlyn asked Matt as she drove through the streets of San Francisco at his direction, making turns that were inexplicably leading them away from their apartment building.

  "I want to show you something," Matt said somewhat tersely.

  She cast him a quick glance, but he was staring out the window, tapp
ing his fingers against one thigh. He'd been quiet at brunch, too. In fact, after that kiss in the kitchen he'd pulled away from her, keeping a distance between them at all times.

  It had been easy for him to do that, her mother having placed Brian next to Caitlyn with Matt at the other end of the table. The conversation had been carefully manipulated by her mother as well, as Marilyn discussed the highlights of Brian's year in Boston, accentuating each positive point for Caitlyn's benefit.

  Did Caitlyn realize that Brian's research paper had won an important award? That he was being courted by both Stanford and California University? And wasn't Caitlyn proud of him for all that he had accomplished?

  Caitlyn had managed to nod and murmur appropriately, the only saving grace being Brian's own embarrassment. It reminded her of the man she'd once loved, a man who could be intellectually arrogant but also appealingly human.

  She knew Matt thought she was an idiot for even considering giving Brian another chance. But he only knew part of the story. That was the problem. Everyone knew only a small part of the story, and she wasn't brave enough to put it all together for them.

  "Turn right at the next light," Matt said.

  "What are you planning to show me?" she asked, relieved to have something else to think about. Granted, she was quickly becoming the queen of denial, but like Scarlett in her favorite novel, Gone with the Wind, she'd think about that tomorrow.

  "You'll see."

  "How's Emily doing?"

  "Fast asleep." Matt looked into the backseat, where they'd placed Emily's car seat. "I think she likes cars."

  "You'll have to remember that the next time she wakes up at two A.M."

  "So, now I'll be driving around the city in the middle of the night?"

  "Or spending a lot of time on the roof."

  He smiled, and she felt a welcome relief that the camaraderie between them had returned. As they drove down lower Market toward the theater district and the area known as the Tenderloin, Caitlyn noticed the growing numbers of homeless people on the streets, the graffiti on alley walls, the gradual deterioration of the neighborhoods.

  "Hard to wear those rose-colored glasses around here, isn't it?" Matt asked, an edge back in his voice. His profile was etched in stone, his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses that gave nothing away. "Turn left at the next block."