"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 bedioom.
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 ab solutely 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 ieu 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 tit in here,"
"No man does," she said. "It's a girl's room. In fact, my mother
designed it to make boys feei 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 Gwyneth Paltrow?"
"Who
is
dating Gwyneth
Paltrow?"
"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
sorrows 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 fee! 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 lo 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.