by Jamie Wesley
“Okay. I get that. I grew up the same way.”
“Right. Because of it, I have a hard time letting go of money because you never know when you’ll need it. So I keep as much of my money as I can. I bought Hans only after finding a ridiculously good deal on it.”
He studied her. “I get that. So you have some money saved?”
“Yes.”
“Enough for a down payment for a new car?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice going small.
“More than that?”
Caitlin hesitated. “Yes.”
“How much more?”
“I have a car fund.”
“Outside your retirement and other savings?”
Her chin lifted. “Yes.”
“How much is in the fund?”
She swallowed. His gaze refused to let her back away and not answer. “Enough to buy a new car,” she whispered.
He nodded slowly as though expecting the answer. “And you don’t want to use it even though I have no doubt you are fully on track for retirement, correct?”
“Yes.” His calmness only served to agitate her. “What if I need it? You never know what the future holds. What if the ratings for the show go in the toilet in the new cities? What if I get fired tomorrow?”
He side-eyed her. “The best producer in the game is not going to get fired tomorrow.”
His confident tone coaxed a smile out of her. “The best producer? You know a lot of producers?”
“Just one, but she was smart enough to hire me for a segment on her show, so that obviously makes her the brightest and the best.” He smiled, highlighting his sharp cheekbones, but the serious look on his face told her he believed in her.
Caitlin laughed. He had a way of making her do that on a regular basis.
He clapped his hands. “Change of plans. Instead of dinner and a movie, I’ll take you car shopping.”
Her laughter cut off. “Wait. What? You’ll do no such thing. I’ll get my car fixed, and I’ll be fine.”
“Caitlin, you’re throwing good money after bad.” He pointed to the paper she still held. “Look at that estimate. Those are just the most serious repairs. I’m sure there’s a whole list of other recommended repairs, too.”
She hid the invoice behind her back. His look told her it was too late.
“I know you’re concerned about spending money,” he said. “But I’m concerned about you being stranded on the side of the road somewhere, and it not being me who pulls over to help you. You have the same concerns, too. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you basically accused me of being a serial killer.”
Damn it, she hated when he was right. But she kept her mouth shut. It was one thing to think he was right, it was another to open her mouth and let him know it.
“Not going to say anything, huh?” he asked. He cupped her shoulders with his big hands and squeezed. “Look, I understand being poor and the fear that comes with not being sure where your next meal is coming from or if your parents have enough gas in the car to get you to school and them to work. That’s part of the reason I was so obsessed with basketball. But you can’t let fear win and overrule good sense. You know that. That’s why you have a new car fund in the first place.” He grabbed her purse off the coffee table. “Let’s go.”
“Hey, give that back!”
“Not until we pull into a car dealership and you actually look at a car.”
He held the bag above his head. She glared at him. She would not jump like a dog. She had too much respect for herself. Besides, even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to grab the purse. Being short sucked monkey balls sometimes. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Fine. Let’s go.”
She marched to the door and ignored his low chuckle behind her. She didn’t speak to him when they arrived at his Porsche or when he unlocked the door and she got in.
“What kind of car do you want?” he asked after he slid in.
“Probably a Toyota,” she mumbled.
“Been doing some research?” he asked, the laughter silent but heard all the same.
“Yes. Leave me alone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of messing with you.”
“Unless it’s bullying me into going car shopping.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Yes, Ms. Caitlin.” Amusement colored his tone.
She knew she was being silly. This was precisely the reason she’d been saving for a car. And doing research on the car that would offer the best combination of good gas mileage, safety features, and reliability. But letting go of her money, knowing she’d never have it again, made her anxious.
They didn’t speak again until he pulled into the dealership a few blocks from her place. He shifted toward her. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Maybe.
She stepped out of the car. Shiny cars in a variety of hues filled the lot as far as the eye could see. A fire-engine red sedan caught her eye. It sparkled underneath the bright sun like it had known she was coming, and it was making its best effort to impress her. She found herself in front of it, her hands balled into fists at her sides. It was so pretty and shiny, she almost didn’t want to touch it. Thanks to her research, she already knew all its specs and what it could do. The only thing she didn’t know was how she would feel behind the wheel. Great, she didn’t doubt, but she wanted to test her theory out to make sure.
Brady didn’t say anything as she prowled around the pretty, pretty car, studying it from every angle. She maintained her dignity by not pressing her face to the glass to look inside. Dignity, she had it. In tiny, tiny amounts. But the car was so pretty.
An hour later, she drove off in a brand-new car.
And she had Brady to thank for pushing her to do what needed to be done. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be trying to get Hans to work while her money didn’t do what she’d intended for it to do. He’d acknowledged her concerns without belittling them, but still giving her the tough love everyone could use every now and then.
What was she going to do about him? About them? About the fact that her plans to take things slowly had no chance in hell of withstanding the Brady onslaught? Not with the feelings he awakened in her. And if she looked closely into his eyes, the feelings she’d awakened in him.
But she could obsess about that later. She cranked up the radio in her brand-new car. When she arrived back at her apartment complex, she parked next to Brady. He’d already gotten out of his Porsche. She jumped out of her car. “Thank you for making me go and stare down my fears.” She ran around to caress the bumper. “I’m so excited! Look at my baby.”
“Why am I jealous of a car?” he grumbled.
“Aww, you don’t have to be jealous. I wouldn’t have her without you.”
“Yeah?” He snagged her belt loop with a finger and drew her closer.
“Yeah,” she murmured against his neck, wanting a taste. Just a small one. He smelled so good. She inhaled the spicy scent she would forever associate with him.
“Why don’t you bring your mouth to the left?” he whispered.
She did just that. His mouth, that talented eighth wonder of the world, was waiting. She got lost in him, in how he made her feel.
“Let’s take this inside,” he said.
“Good idea.”
“Caitlin.” Her mother appeared out of nowhere. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d gotten so wrapped up in Brady, she hadn’t heard her mom approach. Her mom’s eyes immediately homed in on the spot where Brady’s hand rested possessively at Caitlin’s hip.
Caitlin froze. Fought the impulse to move away from the man at her side. “Mama, what are you doing here?”
Her mother adjusted the designer handbag on her shoulder. She was impeccably dressed as always in trouser jeans and a sleek green sweater, a matching scarf shot with gold loosely tied around her neck. “I didn’t realize I couldn’t visit my only daughter.”
Guilt wormed its way into Caitlin’s
heart. “Of course you can. You usually call first, that’s all.”
“I thought I’d surprise you. I was on my way to the mall and thought I’d see if you’d like to join me. Looks like I’m the one to get a surprise.”
“Brady and I went car shopping,” Caitlin said inanely.
“You did?” Surprise flashed across her mom’s face. She peered behind them. “I see you did. I assume the Toyota is yours and not the Porsche.”
“Right.”
Her mother returned her attention to her daughter.
“I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” Probably buried underneath the chaos running rampant through her brain. “Mama, this is Brady Hudson. Brady, this is my mother, Miranda Monroe.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Monroe.” Brady held out his hand.
To Caitlin’s relief, her mom didn’t hesitate in taking it. “Likewise. I thought I recognized you from that photo in which you seemed to be very interested in my daughter in a very public place.”
“Mama.” Concrete, please open up and swallow me whole.
To his credit, Brady didn’t flinch. “Yes, that photo was unfortunate. I didn’t realize someone was out there.”
“Maybe you should have,” her mother returned coolly. “You are a public figure. People are always watching.”
“Indeed.” Brownie points to Brady for not rising to the bait. He clapped his hands together. “It’s getting late. Why don’t I take you two to dinner, if you don’t mind me horning in on mother-daughter time?”
“That would be excellent.” To Caitlin’s utter shock and amazement, that statement came from her mom.
They agreed on an Italian restaurant a few blocks away from Caitlin’s apartment. Unfortunately, that was the last smooth interaction. They’d barely sat at their table at the restaurant when Miranda spoke.
“Are you toying with my daughter, Mr. Hudson?” It didn’t seem to occur to her mother that Brady was a foot taller and over one hundred pounds heavier than she was. “How many other women are you seeing or should I say sleeping with? You did get into a fight over a woman who isn’t my daughter at a nightclub recently, didn’t you?”
“Mama!” Caitlin stared at her in horror.
Brady squeezed her leg under the table. “It’s okay. No, I didn’t get into a fight at a club over another woman. That was a misunderstanding. No, I’m not seeing anyone else and no, I’m not toying with your daughter.”
“Talk is cheap,” her mom said, her tone casual like they were discussing the weather.
“Indeed it is. Only time and my actions will tell.”
“You are correct.” Her mother picked up her menu and serenely inspected it like she hadn’t engaged in a verbal smackdown.
The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully. Miranda was unfailingly polite, but inaccessible, offering only tepid responses.
“I’m sorry about my mom,” Caitlin said later that night back at her apartment.
Brady shrugged. “She’s reserving judgment.”
Caitlin snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
He lifted her chin with one hand while drawing her close with the other arm around her waist. “Here’s the deal. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what she thinks. It matters what you think.”
“She’s my mother.” Please understand, she pleaded with him silently. A message he didn’t seem interested in receiving.
He frowned. “And? She can’t control you forever. You’re an adult. You have no problem telling me what’s on your mind. Why aren’t you like that with her?”
“I don’t want to let her down again. I got involved with an athlete, and it blew up in my face. She was always there for me. Still is.”
“So you’re going to break up with me if she tells you to?”
“No. It’s just—that time was so crazy. I felt like the biggest fool.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to forgive yourself?”
She shook her head. “I almost ruined a marriage. My mom tried to warn me about him, but I didn’t listen.”
“One of the things I admire about you is that you put others first, but that doesn’t mean you should let your mom rule your life.”
“Brady.”
“Look, I get wanting your parent’s approval. I was never what my parents wanted. Look, I get wanting your mom’s approval, but I also know you have to give up on that dream at some point. I was always drawn to basketball. It made me happy and I was good at it. My parents tolerated basketball, but no more than that. They resented the money it cost, the time it took. I got it. We didn’t have a lot of money, but I thought if I could turn pro, it would be worth it. They saw it as a pipe dream. When it became clear that I was headed to the pros, they started paying more attention. I thought finally they loved me. They saw what I had to offer. They came to my games. They cheered.” He shook his head. “Then I turned pro, and the money demands, I’m sorry—the money requests started. Just a little at first. I gave it to them because they were my parents, and I wanted them to love me. Like a chump.”
“You’re not a chump for wanting your parents’ love. You should expect it.”
He shrugged. “It got to the point that all of our conversations centered around money. So-and-so needed money. They wanted to buy a bigger house because surely it’s embarrassing for Brady Hudson’s parents to live in a 3000-square foot house. Never mind that I’d paid off the mortgage on that ‘ridiculously small house.’ I did that on my own to say thank you. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. I finally got the courage to cut them off.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. He’d told the story in a matter-of-fact tone with no bitterness, but she knew the situation had killed him. He was still dealing with the scars of their betrayal. “You don’t talk to them?”
He shrugged again. “Once every few months. Very stilted conversation. At some point, I get accused of being a bad son for not sending them a blank check, and I hang up the phone.”
“But you keep trying.”
“Only to a certain extent.” A resolute light entered his eyes. “I refuse to let them dictate my actions. I refuse to be used. By anybody.” His expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his normally arrogant face. “That’s why I’m lucky to have you. You want me for me with no ulterior motives.”
Caitlin pushed her lips upward, hoping he couldn’t sense her unrest. She should tell him about Mack. But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted him to continue looking at her the way he was. And she did. So much.
Chapter Twelve
“Why the hell am I in Milwaukee?” Brady grumbled the following Wednesday.
“Um, because you have to play the Bucks tomorrow?” Caitlin offered.
He glared at her through the computer screen. “Thanks, smart-ass.”
“You’re welcome,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, though, what’s up?”
“I’m bored.” He straightened against the bed’s headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, his computer resting on his thighs. His white T-shirt stretched across his chest.
“Why didn’t you go out with your teammates?”
“I did. We had dinner, and a few of us came back to watch film. But I kicked them out. Tilly kept talking…chattering. I needed some peace and quiet.”
“You’re talking to me.”
“You’re not people. You’re Caitlin.” He said it like it was obvious. Like she was special and in no way could others compare to her.
Warmth spread through her veins. “What’s stopping you from watching more film?”
“Feeling like I know what play the Bucks are going to call before they do. There’s only so much film I can watch. I’m just antsy. We haven’t played a game in three days, which is weird. I’m ready to go.”
She tucked a leg underneath her on her bed. “TV?”
“I thought about watching The Wire again, but I’ve watched the entire series five times. Not in the mood for that tonight. I miss you.”
>
“I miss you, too.” And she did. She’d seen him that morning before he left, but that recent visit did nothing to dull the sensation that a part of her was missing. She bit her lip as an idea occurred to her. Could she do it? Did she have the nerve? “I can think of something that won’t bore you.”
His brows lifted. “What? Got a pirate joke for me?”
“Not tonight.”
“Then what?”
She kept her eyes on him as she wiggled.
His eyes widened. “Are you…?”
She held up her shorts. “Yeah, I am.”
“Caitlin?” he croaked. The only way to describe the sound that came out of his mouth.
“It’s time to stop dreaming, Brady,” she said, looking him dead in the eye. He’d joked about this once before, but she hadn’t forgotten. She’d do just about anything for him. She set aside her laptop, making sure the webcam faced her. She rose on her knees and whipped her T-shirt over her head, leaving her clad in a matching blue bra and panty set, and nothing else. “What do you want me to do, Brady?”
His gaze swept her figure, missing nothing. She felt the look like a caress. His eyes darkened. “Do you trust me to make you feel good?” His voice had deepened.
“Yes,” she said simply. Calmly.
“Take off the bra.”
Her eyes trained squarely on his, she reached behind her. A second later, she drew the bra down her arms. “Now what?”
He didn’t answer right away. “I love your body.” His eyes traced every curve. “Your breasts. Your hips. Your skin. I wish I was there to lick you all over.”
A tremor of desire coursed through her at the erotic promise. “Next time.”
“Count on it. Your breasts always taste so good. I love when your nipples go hard in my mouth. Touch yourself.”
“Where?” She grazed her neck and shoulders with the tips of her fingers. “Here?”
“Lower.”
Her fingers slipped to the upper slopes of her breasts. Skimming the skin there. Tracing the outline of the mounds.
“Don’t play with me, Caitlin.”
Her nipples tightened at the command in his voice.
