“Ah, that explains a lot,” Hayes said as she drove out of the parking lot.
Cait wasn’t sure exactly what her remark had explained, but maybe Hayes thought she was comparing him to Marty Jameson. Which she was doing. Heck, what she’d already done only a couple of days ago.
“Both Marty and you are celebrities,” she explained. “Both have the looks to draw in all the female attention you want.”
And the biggie—both could and would crush a woman’s heart in the blink of an eye.
“I haven’t fathered a slew of kids like Marty,” Hayes said, pointing out the big difference between her dad and him. “In fact, I haven’t fathered any kids.”
That was good, considering his often wonky Hollywood lifestyle. But there was another difference between Hayes and her dad. A massive one. Over the years, Hayes had actually been there for his sisters and Em. He’d stepped up time after time to help them, even if that help often came from a distance. Cait had no doubts that he would give up a kidney for any one of the triplets. Marty wouldn’t bother even if there was nothing more than a fingernail donation involved.
“Still, I guess there are enough similarities to put you off making a play for me,” Hayes added a moment later.
Well, there was that whole crushed-heart outcome. She could make that play for him and haul him into her bed, but then he’d leave and she would have to live with that broken heart. Worse, she’d have to live with the sympathy it would cause and do that in a town, and a family, where everyone would know just how hurt she was. Her brothers would use that to try to shelter her for years to come.
Considering all of that, and some other things as well, Cait started the drive to Em’s. “I believe the only reason you want me to be interested in you is because I rejected you.” When he gave her a blank look, she added, “Eleven years ago when you’d come home for a visit. We ran into each other at the Watering Hole, where I was celebrating my twenty-first birthday.”
The Watering Hole was the town’s only bar, and she gave Hayes a moment to recall the incident. She suspected he had many memories of bars. And of hooking up with women in them. But Cait finally saw the light in his eyes when it clicked.
“Yeah,” he said, and judging from his change in tone, he was making a quick trip to the past. Or rather trying to do that. Cait suspected he didn’t remember much about that night.
But she was wrong.
“Red dress,” he went on. “That’s what you were wearing, and it was short. About yea high.” He motioned to a spot about midthigh. “You were wearing sandals. Silver strappy ones that sparkled.”
That was true. The sandals had been a new purchase, to show off the pedi that Sunny had talked her into getting. In those days, Sunny hadn’t made it back to town that often, but she’d made a point of coming in for Cait’s birthday. Cait had welcomed it even if Sunny usually treated her like a kid sister.
“You had your hair down that night,” he went on, and he was obviously giving her a dose of that honeyed voice. “And it was a little wispy with sweat because the AC was barely sputtering out cool air.”
“Wispy?” she questioned.
It was a bad question because it caused him to touch her cheek. Well, actually, he skimmed his finger over her skin.
Damn tingles.
“Wispy,” he verified, doing another finger skim before finally drawing back his hand. “As in clinging to your face. It made you look as if you’d just gotten out of bed after having great sex.”
Of course, he would equate a sweaty face with bed/sex. Then again, she’d sort of thought the same thing about him that night. He’d been wearing his usual jeans and tee, but he’d been “wispy” faced, too. Mostly from the heat, but perhaps the birthday tequila shots had added to it.
“Red dress, yes,” she verified. “Strappy sandals, yes. And yes, to me rejecting you.”
Now he frowned, and his forehead bunched up. “We were both a little drunk,” he admitted. “Would you really call that a rejection?”
Cait gave him a flat look. “You were more than a little drunk, and you asked me to go to Prego Trail with you.”
Prego Trail was the local make-out spot, and it hadn’t been named for the spaghetti sauce but because more than one girl had gotten knocked up there. Despite the dubious reputations of both Hayes and the trail, Cait had been flattered.
And very tempted.
But she’d also had her three brothers nearby. If she had gone staggering out with Hayes, one of them would have tried to stop her. Or at least one would have attempted to talk some sense into her. It turned out, though, that her temptation was short-lived because Hayes had gotten a call. He’d stepped out to answer it and hadn’t come back into the Watering Hole.
So, maybe the whole incident hadn’t actually been an all-out rejection. But she had managed to give Hayes a scowl when he’d made the sloppy no-finesse pass at her, and she’d told him she wasn’t interested.
Thankfully, Cait didn’t have to dwell on it anymore or keep talking about it because they reached their destination. Cait pulled to a stop in front of the two-story yellow Victorian. Em’s house. It was practically a landmark since all twelve seasons of Little Cowgirls had been filmed right here.
Hayes looked around as if trying to take it all in. There were plenty of good memories here. At least she thought there were. But Cait was also well aware of the bad ones, too. Hayes’s folks had basically treated him like dung to be mucked out of the horse barn. He’d never been given a big part in Little Cowgirls but instead had been pushed to the shadows. Almost like a footnote. He’d been the triplets’ surly brother who had turned from the cameras and spent most of those years behind the locked door of his bedroom.
Considering that he’d become such a big name in Hollywood, it was ironic that back then neither his parents nor the show’s producers had seen the “star” potential in him. That was probably a good thing, though, because of his moneygrubbing mother, Sunshine. If Sunshine could have figured out a way to use Hayes and make money off him, she would have done it.
Cait got out, and she played another round of human crutch to get Hayes from the SUV. This time, the touching went up significantly when he slid off the seat—and against her. Crud. Her nipples reacted again. Her breath hitched. She probably went a little dewy looking.
Just like before, Hayes noticed, too. “You really want to keep pretending you’re not interested in me?”
Cait had an easy answer for that. “Yes.”
He chuckled, a husky, manly sound doused with so much testosterone that her body whined for an orgasm. Thankfully, there was no chance of that happening, and her body cooled when she spotted the woman in the doorway.
Bernice Biggs.
She was Em’s part-time housekeeper, and like the twins’ assistant preschool teacher, Fredricka Myers, Bernice brought crotchety to a whole new level. Cait had never seen the woman smile, and it quickly became clear that she wasn’t going to see such a cheery expression today. Bernice scowled and then scowled harder when her attention landed on Hayes.
Despite the woman’s obvious disapproval, Hayes doled out one of his grins to her. “As beautiful as ever,” he told Bernice. He dropped a kiss on her cheek when Cait led him past her.
Bernice swiped away the kiss as if he’d left a slathering of Ebola-laced spittle on her. “You’re not taking him upstairs to have sexual relations with him, are you?” she snarled at Cait.
“Absolutely,” Cait said.
She considered making sure that Bernice realized that what she’d said was a snarky comeback and not the truth. Just so the woman wouldn’t spill the gossip about it as gospel. But then Cait remembered Bernice didn’t like anyone enough to shoot the breeze with them.
Cait led Hayes through the foyer and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Can you do this or should you just stay in one of the downstairs rooms?”
“I can do it,” he assured her. “What’s a little pain when possible relations is the reward?”
Cait appreciated his attempt to keep this light, but about halfway up, she realized this just wasn’t a good idea. Hayes’s breathing became labored, he had a white-knuckle grip on the stair rail and some sweat popped out on his face. It definitely didn’t give him a wispy romantic look. Just the opposite. She thought he might keel over.
She stopped, giving him a minute to compose himself. “Just take a breath. We’re in no hurry.”
He looked at her. Gave her a little glimmer of a smile. And she thought he might do or say something to cover up the pain that he didn’t want her to see. He didn’t.
“Thanks for helping me,” he murmured. There was no testosterone overload now, just the pain coating his voice. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Sure you could have. You would have done it one step at a time. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m pretty good at lending a shoulder when needed.”
“Yes, you are.” His gaze stayed locked with hers. “Thank you for helping me,” he repeated.
Okay, this chat had just moved below the surface. She saw the whirl of emotions there in his eyes. Like the pain, it was the very emotions he was trying to cover up with everyone else.
Apparently, not with her, though. Because they were right there for her to see. Maybe this was because she’d rejected him, but it was also possible that she was just Switzerland to him. Not a family member. Not a lover, current or ex. Not someone who planned on being his lover, current or ex. Just...neutral.
“FYI,” Cait offered. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re around me.”
He nodded and continued to stare at her for several long moments. “Why?”
Cait tested out that question a couple of different ways before responding, but she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Why what?” she challenged.
Hayes started to say something. Then he stopped. He shook his head. “I was going to ask why you’re being nice to me, but that sounds way too dick-ish and needy. Like fishing for you to say things other women say to me without fishing. Instead, I’ll just say another thank-you. First for the help and second for giving that help in your own unique Cait way.”
Now it was Cait who started to say something and then stopped. She hadn’t considered his question dick-ish at all, but she could see the change in his eyes. It was almost a plea for her not to push this, that he’d already been pushed to his limits today. She got that. And she backed off.
Not literally.
Hayes would have fallen on his superior butt if she’d let go of him, but she wouldn’t keep up this little chat about feelings and other things. For now, they were back to surface stuff.
“Why am I being nice to you?” Cait repeated, and she went with light. “Well, I have to take my relations whatever way I can get them.”
He chuckled, winced and squeezed his eyes shut a moment. Steeling himself up. And it must have worked because when he opened his eyes, the other emotions were gone, and they got moving. They started up the steps again. It took them a while. Slow, easy movements. One at a time. Then an equally slow one-step-at-a-time walk down the upstairs hall to his room.
“You remembered which room was mine,” he mumbled.
Oh, yeah. No way could she put that out of her memory. She’d visited his sisters here often enough, and once when Hayes had been about seventeen and she fourteen, she had gotten an eyeful when he’d come out of his room in just his boxers. It didn’t matter that he had done that to yell at them for making so much noise. Nope. A memory like that stayed with a teenage girl.
Apparently, it stayed with a grown woman, too.
Cait had to do some maneuvering to get them both through the doorway of his bedroom. More touching. More grimaces and grunts of pain from Hayes. But she finally got him to his bed. She nearly tumbled down on it with him, but she anchored her feet to the floor just in time.
“Meds.” He thrust the little white bag he’d been carrying at her. “I’d appreciate it if you opened the bottle and got me a couple of pills.”
Cait did open the bottle, dropped two capsules into his somewhat shaky palm and then went into the adjoining bathroom to get him some water. By the time she made it back into the room, he’d already taken the pills and was trying to get his boots off.
“Drink,” she insisted, helping him with that and then tackling the boots.
She considered he might want her to help him strip down, but he dashed that notion when he lay back, his head sinking into the pillow, and he pulled the side of the covers over him. His eyelids drifted down.
Cait didn’t mean to stare, but like her nipples, her eyes also had minds of their own when it came to Hayes. Good grief. Even banged up like this, he was, well, straight fire, and just looking at him put a serious dent in her willpower. Thankfully, though, she wouldn’t have to worry about that for long.
“Do you have your phone charged in case you need to call someone?” Cait whispered.
He nodded, and with his eyes still closed, he patted his pocket.
When he didn’t add anything else, Cait took that as her signal to leave. She turned to tiptoe out, but the sound of his voice stopped her.
“I need to ask you for one more favor,” he said. “A big one.”
“No, I’m not going to have relations with you,” she joked.
Even though he smiled a little, Cait could tell that whatever he was about to ask would indeed be big.
“Maybe in a day or two, then.” His smile faded, and he opened his eyes, his gaze zeroing in on her. “I have an appointment in San Antonio next week, and I was wondering if you could take me if I’m not in any shape to drive yet. I don’t want my family to know, so that’s why I can’t ask one of them,” Hayes added.
She nodded, cautiously. “I can take you. Are you sure you’re up to a ride like that?”
“I have to be.” He stared at her. “Since I know you can keep secrets, I’ll tell you that it’s an appointment with a psychiatrist.”
Well, that got her attention, and Cait thought of all those tabloid rumors about Hayes maybe trying to kill himself.
“Okay,” she said, waiting for him to tell her more.
But he didn’t follow through on her suspected more. Hayes just muttered a thank-you and closed his eyes again.
Cait stood there several more moments. Still nothing from him. But she saw the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that let her know he’d gone to sleep. Or else he was pretending to sleep so she would just leave. So that’s what she did. Cait turned and left, understanding that he was putting a lot of faith in her. Then again, she was indeed good at keeping secrets.
After all, Hayes had no idea just how much she cared about him.
And if she had any say in the matter, he never would.
CHAPTER SIX
HAYES DIDN’T MAKE a habit of studying himself in the mirror, but he did plenty of that today. He didn’t especially want to walk into a shrink’s office while looking as if he’d had the ever-livin’ crap beat out of him. He already had enough to talk about without adding that to the appointment. Plus, if anyone recognized him in San Antonio and snapped his picture, which would almost certainly happen, a bruised face would pump up the gossip and speculation.
He’d filled his speculation quota for a while, and the gossip bucket had long since overflowed.
The bruises were almost all gone, thank God, and he no longer had a sore ass. A week could do that, but those seven days hadn’t totally repaired his ribs. He could feel the dull ache in his right side. Still, it was better, and most of the time he could cover the grimace he made whenever any sudden movement caused the pain to spike.
He was feeling well enough that he had texted Cait to let her off the hook about driving him to his appoint
ment with the shrink. He’d told her that he could arrange for a rental car to be brought to him. But Cait had nixed that and had merely texted back, asking what time she should pick him up.
Maybe Cait’s feelings toward him were softening. More likely, though, she just felt sorry for him and doubted he was telling the truth when he said he could drive himself. She was a cop, after all, and it could be she thought his cracked ribs might cause him to wreck. So, it was maybe some civic duty thrown in with the pity.
His phone dinged with a text from Abe Simon, his agent, and in Abe’s usual chatty manner, the entire message was a single question mark. Hayes figured Abe was asking plenty, though. Since Hayes had told him about the motorcycle wreck, Abe likely wanted to know if he was recovering and maybe even when he would be back in California. Not that there was a pressing demand for Hayes’s return, but Abe might be having to make reports to the studio.
Following Abe’s “chatty” way, Hayes texted him back a thumbs-up emoji.
Unless something big broke with the studio, that would probably be the only conversation Abe and he would have during these next weeks before Hayes had to go back.
Since it was only about fifteen minutes before Cait was due to arrive, Hayes made his way down the stairs. Quietly. He’d told Em the night before that he would be going out with Cait today, but he didn’t want her to quiz him about it. Especially since Em clearly wasn’t buying his lie that he’d come back to town to test the waters with Cait and assure Em that he was truly okay. However, it wasn’t Em he saw in the foyer.
It was Hadley.
Out of all his sisters, she was the best one for him to run into. Hadley was the least likely to quiz him on the whole “Cait” lie. He didn’t play favorites with the triplets, but Hadley and he had more in common than he did with the others.
They were the biggest misfits in their misfit family.
Added to that, Hadley had lived in LA for years, where she’d had a costume-design business, so he saw her more often than Sunny or McCall. That would change, though, now that Hadley had moved back to Lone Star Ridge to marry Leyton.
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