Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 (20 page)

Wishing she
could
be that person again even as she wondered if that was ever possible.

For the umpteenth time, she rewound the recorded footage and pressed play again.

Josh walked toward the curb, his limp subtle, guitar in hand. He waved at an approaching cab, opened the back seat when the taxi pulled to a halt in front of him and climbed inside.

She could see him move against the seat, but that was it. Nothing else before the car pulled away out of the Chaos Room’s security camera field of—

A soft knock sounded on her office door.

Heart slamming fast into her tight throat, guilt following it with equal speed, Caitlin killed the footage and fixed her stare on her open laptop and the spreadsheet on its screen. “Yes?”

She heard the door open. Heard the faint, muffled throb of the dance music the celebrity guest DJ was playing in the club’s main arena, and then that was silenced by the sound of the door closing again.

“Heya, honey.”

Caitlin’s tummy fluttered at the low murmur of Matt’s voice.

She raised her blank gaze from the laptop and offered him a smile. “Hi. What are you doing here? Isn’t it—?”

“Almost nine p.m.,” he finished, making his way to her desk to lower himself into the bucket chair opposite it. “I figured since I haven’t seen you for more than a second since we did that interview for the
Today
program three days ago, I’d come by your work and ask you on a date.”

Something dull and numb wrapped around Caitlin’s heart. “A date?”

Matt smiled at her. “Maybe a movie? I hear in the eight months I was in a coma, another Martin Scorsese movie has been released. Thought we could maybe go see it? Together? Share some popcorn? There’s a nine-thirty session we could make if we leave now. And maybe after the movie we could grab a pizza with extra olives on the way home and then…maybe we could…” He shifted his feet. Studied her. “Maybe you could let me convince you to say yes to my marriage proposal? Again?”

Caitlin swallowed. Her head throbbed. A thrumming pressure pressed at her ears.

Marriage proposal? Oh, no. No, no, no.

“I don’t like olives, Matt,” she said, her voice a scratchy whisper. “I never have. Didn’t you notice I always pick them off?”

Consternation pulled at Matt’s eyebrows. He let out a shaky breath, dragging his hands through his hair. “Wow. I guess I didn’t. Sorry about that.”

A small smile tugged at the edges of Caitlin’s lips. She lifted her shoulder in a gentle shrug. “You were always too busy, I guess.
We
were always too—”

Her office door swung open, Zach knocking on its metal surface as he half crossed the threshold. “Boss, you wanted to know when Josh Blackthorne’s whereabouts became—” He stopped, his gaze swinging to Matt. “Oh, hi, Matt. I didn’t know you were here.”

A knot bunched in Matt’s jaw. For a second, his stare held Caitlin’s before he turned to Zach. “Mandy let me in. I was hoping to persuade the boss here to go to the movies with me, but I think she’s got other plans.”

Zach’s dark eyes flicked to Caitlin. “She’s been working hard lately,” he said, tone ambiguous. “The Doctors Without Borders charity performance did a lot for the Chaos Room’s exposure. We’ve had a lot of A-list acts wanting to hold on their own special gig here since Josh did his thing.”

At Josh’s name, a horde of butterflies stirred in Caitlin’s tummy. Or maybe it was the way Matt stiffened. “Speaking of Blackthorne,” Matt said, dropping his focus to his feet as he slipped his hands into his pockets. “You mentioned he’s surfaced again? After going AWOL since his show here?”

Every fibre in Caitlin’s body tingled. Her throat grew thicker, tighter. What was Matt doing? Why was he asking Zach such a question? She chewed on her bottom lip, watching him.

“Yeah,” Zach answered, his voice hesitant. “His friend, the guy that plays soccer for Australia, was interviewed by some U.K. reporter and dropped the fact Blackthorne is in Murriundah.”

Caitlin sucked in a swift breath. Her heart smashed faster against her breastbone. The butterflies in her stomach turned in a flurry of tension.

He was still in Australia?

She stared at Zach, wanting to ask if he knew more, wanting to know
when
Rhys McDowell had said this, wanting to know what
else
the soccer player had said. But she couldn’t. If she uttered Josh’s name, she feared Matt would see straight into her heart and know who was there. She couldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t—

“So he’s only a few hours’ drive away?” Matt said, the question calm. Caitlin turned her gaze to him, her pulse thumping in her neck. She couldn’t decipher the ambiguous expression on his face.

“How long does it take to drive to Murriundah from here?” Matt cocked an enigmatic look her way. “Five and a half hours? Give or take a few minutes?” He swung back to Zach. “That sound right?”

Zach nodded. “That’s about it. At this time of night it would take even less, I suspect. Not much traffic on the road once you get out of Sydney.”

Caitlin sucked in another breath. Her heart seemed to be doing its best to punch its way out of her body. Her head roared.

She bit at her bottom lip, stare sliding from Zach to Matt.

Matt studied her, his eyes unreadable.

“I better get back out on the floor,” Zach’s voice rumbled at her fraying sanity. “Matt, good to see you again.”

“You too, Zach,” Matt answered, his focus never leaving Caitlin’s face. “Take care.”

The soft click of the door closing told Caitlin it was just her and Matt in her office again.

Just the two of them. And the memory of a man Caitlin couldn’t let go.

Oh God, she was a horrible, horrible person. A horrible—

“Does Josh Blackthorne like olives on his pizza?”

Matt’s question, uttered with pensive curiosity, sent of rope of shame deep into Caitlin’s tummy. Releasing her lip from her teeth, she shook her head. “No.” Her whisper fell between them.

Matt turned his face away from her, studied the painting he’d given her before they broke up on the wall of her office.

Silence filled the room. Caitlin stared at his profile, unsure what to say. What to do. God, this was not…this shouldn’t…

“I’ve been thinking,” Matt said, attention still on the painting, hands still deep in his pockets. “It’s probably time for me to go back to Somalia. To resume my work with the Doctors Without Borders.”

Caitlin’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart punched harder in her chest.

Without turning from the painting, Matt nodded. “I’ve been mulling it over for the last few days,” he went on. “And I know it’s unfair to you, given I’ve only just got back and it has nothing to do with the fact you now have a pet lizard. Honest.” He let out a short laugh, no doubt trying to break the tension. “But it’s something I have to do. Something I need to do. I think it’s where I’m meant to be.” He swung back to face her, a soft smile on his lips. “You know what I mean? About being where you’re meant to be?”

Caitlin swallowed. Tears prickled the back of her eyes, hot and guilty and excited at once. Catching her bottom lip with her teeth before she could stop herself, she nodded. “I do,” she rasped.

Matt let out a low chuckle, stepped up to her to cup the side of her face with a steady hand. “You really need to stop biting your lip, honey,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip with a gentle stroke, his smile stretching wider. “Otherwise it’ll be too sore for Josh to kiss it, right?”

“Matt,” she whispered. “I don’t…”

He shook his head and then replaced his thumb with his lips, his kiss tender. Sad.

When he pulled away, his gaze found hers. She couldn’t stop her hitching sob. “Why?”

His smile grew as tender as his kiss. “Because I saw the way you were looking at him the night I returned, like you were alive inside, truly alive. Because I saw the way he looked at you mid-set when you introduced me to him. Like you were the only thing in his world. Because I saw the way you came to life just now when Zach mentioned his name. And because I’d already let you go and it’s unfair of me to expect you to be mine now.”

“Matt,” Caitlin whispered again, her whole body aching. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He trailed his thumb over her lip once more, his grin lopsided. Understanding shone in his eyes. Understanding and love. “I’ve got to go save the world, Caity,” he said. “It’s what I do. And
you’ve
got a five-and-a-half-hour drive to do.”

Another sob slipped from Caitlin, raw and choked with grief…and happiness. She turned her face into Matt’s palm, eyes closed. “I will always love you, Matt.”

He chuckled. “Absolutely, you will. Just tell the rock star if he hurts you I will come after him. I’m a doctor after all. I know how to make someone suffer without leaving a single bruise.”

Chapter Seventeen

Chloe sat on Josh’s knees, wriggling about like she always did, her eyes shining with excitement as she recounted to him yesterday’s events. Events, he was loathe to point out, he’d shared with her. But then Chloe loved to relive moments of importance and excitement, so Josh never really minded the recap. When he was included in her retelling, when he featured front and centre, it meant he was being exactly what he wanted to be to her—the best big brother he could be.

Judging by Chloe’s enthusiasm in
this
early morning recount as Josh sat on the edge of his bed still dressed only in his boxers, yesterday had been one of her favourite best-big-brother days.

Josh had to admit to himself, she was right.

They’d swum in their parents’ swimming pool and made strawberry cupcakes. They’d watched the latest Muppet movie on DVD and played Uno. They’d built a pillow-and-blanket fort so impressive their mother hadn’t been able to make her way from one side of the house to the other without crawling on all fours through the living room…and most of the kitchen. And dining room.

Josh had never laughed so much, nor had he enjoyed his little sister’s company more. Fourteen days of being nothing but a big brother to a bundle of cherub-faced mischief and innocence was pretty damn awesome. As was fourteen days of being a son to two loving parents who didn’t get to see him as much as they wanted.

Fourteen days of being in Murriundah was exactly what he needed.

He’d been spoilt by his mum with breakfast in bed more than once—scrambled eggs and Vegemite toast, of course. He’d jammed with his dad—long sessions in Nick’s private recording studio where they’d let the music take over their minds and fingers in the closest thing to rock-star therapy Josh believed existed. And best of all, he’d been given so many spectacular makeovers by Chloe, been turned into a fairy prince/dragon hunter/genie so many times he didn’t think he’d ever wash the sparkly pink glittery-green and shimmering-red eye-shadow from his eyelids, cheeks, lips and hair.

Fourteen days of un-famous relaxed bliss.

Fourteen days during which an hour
never
passed without his mind, his heart, his soul, aching for Caitlin.

Just when he’d think he was over her, a random memory of their time together would flit through his head, blindsiding him in its wonderfulness, robbing him of breath and making his chest ache. And then he’d be left aching for her again.

Every time he looked at Chloe’s lizard he thought of Caitlin. He was going out of his mind. He’d actually made the mistake of watching her and Matt on the
Today
morning news program only a few days ago. Had sat in his parents’ living room, stare glued to the television screen, gut churning, heart pounding, as the morning hosts asked inane questions about Matt’s first few days home, what Caitlin had cooked for him since his return and how many times they’d kissed.

He’d bunched his fists when the female host had asked them to share a kiss right there on live television. Had ground his teeth when Matt had smiled at Caitlin, his eyes seeking out permission from her before they both let out a nervous laugh and nodded.

Had watched that kiss, numb. Had stared at the screen as Matt’s lips lingered on Caitlin’s for a torturous moment, Caitlin’s fingers resting on his knee. The sound of the show’s two hosts cheering them on had been a sickening accompaniment to the wretched pounding of his heart.

Had straightened from the sofa, strode from the living room, walked through the front door to stop at the top of the outside stairs and gasped for breath as he’d stared at the sweeping view of Murriundah nestled in the valley below.

When his father appeared beside him, Josh hadn’t turned from that view. He hadn’t wanted Nick to see the grief and jealousy and bitter loss in his face. He hadn’t wanted his father to know how miserable he really was.

Nick hadn’t said a word to him. Just stood beside him, shoulder to shoulder, his silence saying everything.

Josh had wanted to confess everything but suspected he didn’t need to. His parents had been aware of the rumours about him and Caitlin circulating the gossip sites before his performance for Doctors Without Borders at the Chaos Room. There was a reason, after all, that his mum had made him breakfast in bed so often. She’d done the exact same thing when he’d had his heart broken by his first real girlfriend at the age of sixteen.

He’d spoken to Rhys twice since his self-imposed exile in the hinterlands. Both times his best mate had told him to fuck the world and go after her. “You love her, don’t you? Then go after her.”

Both times he’d told Rhys he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to Caitlin, couldn’t force her to make a decision like that. He couldn’t do it to Matt, who was a national hero and—from everything he’d seen of the doctor on the television and read of him in the newspaper—a genuinely nice guy.

He couldn’t.

“I’m good, dude,” he’d said, even as his stupid heart tore even more apart. “Just hanging with the olds for a while before I head back to New York. The feds let me know yesterday the stalker is back in jail, so it’s safe for me to head home soon.”

Home. The trouble with that word, that simple, innocent noun, was that it brought up images of a cozy one-bedroom apartment in Woolloomooloo with a cheery kitchen and a blue-tongue lizard napping under the fridge, not a massive professionally decorated multi-million dollar apartment overlooking Central Park West.

Which was why he couldn’t leave his old family home.

His mum and dad’s house may not be that tiny Woolloomooloo apartment, but it was at least in the same country as Caitlin—and it was full of laughter and warmth and love.

If he couldn’t lose himself in Caitlin’s love and laughter, he would lose himself in his family’s.

He’d stay here until his stupid, moronic heart healed, and then he’d bugger off back to New York. Synergy was a few months away from recording a new album. It was time he got back to—

A small hand slapped against his jaw. “Josh!” Chloe glared at him. “You’re not listening to me.”

Josh sucked in a sharp breath, giving his sister a guilty smile. “Why do you say that, short stuff?”

Chloe squirmed on his knee some more. “You looked like this.” She pulled a gape-mouthed expression, eyes all droopy and distant.

Josh laughed. “Wow, I’m ugly when I’m not listening to you, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re
not
ugly.” Chloe shook her head before twisting around on his knee to face the far wall and doorway of his bedroom. “He’s not ugly, is he?”

“I’ve seen uglier,” a woman answered, mirth in the familiar voice. “But I’m not sure where.”

Josh’s heart slammed into his mouth. Every nerve ending in his body thrummed. He turned on the edge of his bed, his gaze falling on Caitlin leaning against the wooden frame of his open door, her smile shy.

“Maybe,” he said, his stare locked on her face, the lump in his throat making it hard to talk, “outside your club on the footpath? I’ve heard you get some real deadbeats trying to jump the queue to get into that place.”

With a soft chuckle and a roll of her eyes, Caitlin shook her head and walked farther into his room, stopping at the side of his bed to lower herself down next to him. “You have no idea. There was this one guy who tried to convince me he was this famous, successful rock star. Even had the singer’s sexy smirk down pat. Told me he wanted to come into my club because some bodyguard he knew said it was a good place to arrange dinner.”

A tickling warmth unfurled deep within Josh’s core. Forcing himself to play it cool, he gave Caitlin a curious expression. “Oh yeah?” he said, jiggling Chloe up and down on his knees a little. “What did you do to him?”

“I fell in love with him.”

“Why?”

Caitlin smiled at Chloe’s suspicious question. “Because he was lovely and caring and incredible and amazing and made me laugh lots.”

Chloe shifted on Josh’s lap, hooking her little arm around his neck as she peered up at him. “That’s like you, Josh. You’re all those things. And you make me laugh lots and lots.”

Josh pulled a surprised expression. “Am I? Do I?”

His little sister narrowed her eyes at him, studying him for a moment before turning to Caitlin. “Are you the girl he’s been mopey about? The one Mummy said broke his heart?”

“Okay.” Josh lifted her from his knee with a grunt and placed her feet on the floor. “Go tell Dad I said thank you for letting Caitlin in.”

Chloe swung her attention back to Caitlin. “She is, isn’t she? I
know
it. Is she going to make you happy now? Is that why she’s here?”

Josh cocked an eyebrow, his lips curling even as his stomach and heart lurched and thumped and twisted and clenched about. “Shoo.”

Turning back to Caitlin, Chloe pointed a small finger at her. “I will kick you in the knee if you make him sad again.”

Straightening her spine, Caitlin squared her shoulders and gave Chloe a solemn nod. “I understand.”

With a gentle swat on his sister’s butt, his breath shallow, Josh rolled his eyes. “Get out of here, short stuff. And don’t forget my message to Dad.”

An excited giggle bubbled up from Chloe and she spun to face him, her smile wide. “Are you going to kiss now?”

Josh pointed
his
finger at her. “Vamoose!”

Another giggle spilled from his sister, at once mischievous and delighted. She stole a quick glance at Caitlin—still sitting straight and formal and grave on the edge of the bed beside Josh—and then she ran from the room. “
Mum
,” she called, her voice resonating like a pealing bell behind her. “Josh is going to kiss a girl!”

Josh watched her go, his heart a crazy rhythm thumping in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears.

“Well,” Caitlin murmured on his left, her voice as full of mischief and delight as Chloe’s laugh, “you have to kiss me now. Your sister just told on you.”

Dragging his stare from the open door through which Chloe had, indeed, vamoosed, he turned to Caitlin and studied her.

Her hair was a tousled mess, as if she’d spent hours raking her hands through it. Her clothes were rumpled, her lipstick and makeup—normally pristine—were faded and smudged.

She looked tired. And beautiful. More beautiful than any woman on the planet. Which made what he was about to say even harder.

Swallowing at the lump in his throat, he met her steady gaze. “I can’t kiss you, Caitlin.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Because your sister might catch us? She’s very cute by the way. And perceptive.”

Josh shook his head. Every fibre in his body ached to launch himself at Caitlin, press her on her back and kiss her senseless. Instead, he drew a slow breath. “Because you’re engaged to Matt. Who is very much alive and very much in love with you.”

“And very much on his way back to Somalia,” Caitlin said, her voice as calm and steady as her gaze.

Josh blinked. “He’s what?”

“On his way back to Somalia. Or wherever Doctors Without Borders assign him this time. And just out of interest, if I’d listened to him, I would have been banging on your parents’ door at one a.m.” She paused, a sheepish, self-deprecating grimace pulling at her lips for a moment. “Although truth be known, I
did
drive up to the gate at one a.m. and considered pushing the intercom button for a minute or two.”

A heavy pressure wrapped around Josh’s chest. His lips tingled. “He’s what? He did what? And
you
what?”

Caitlin let out a soft snort. “Last night, at a little after nine, Matt told me he knew I was in love with you and that he’d never seen me more alive than when I was looking at you. He told me he was returning to the MSF and that I should come to you ASAP. In fact, he was the one who told me to leave right away.” She paused. Again. Another embarrassed grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Which I did,” she confessed. “I hate wasting time, as you know. And the drive up here at that time of the night was so much faster. The road was
empty
. Hardly another car on—”

“Wait.” Josh held up his hands, sure he’d heard her wrong. “Are you telling me you drove from Sydney last night? That you got here at one a.m.?”

She nodded, rubbing her knuckles against the centre of her palm. “I am. I did.”

“Because Matt told you to leave him for me?”

Caitlin nodded again, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. “Because Matt told me to leave him for you.”

Josh sucked in a sharp breath. The pit of his stomach tightened. He stared at her. Hope began to curl around his heart, hot and…and…hopeful. “And you did.”

“I did.” She shifted on the bed, concern flickering in her eyes. “Because…I…” Stopping, she frowned at him. “Jesus, have I made a mistake?”

Josh returned her frown. “What do you mean?”

Swiping her hand at her mouth, she rose from the bed and took a step backward. “Did I…I mean, were you not serious when you said you…when you told me you loved…” She stopped again, pressing her palm to her mouth, her eyes wide above her fingers.

Shaking her head, she staggered back another step. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled against her hand. “I didn’t mean…”

Before she could utter another word, Josh straightened to his feet, grabbed her wrist and yanked her to his body. “You didn’t make any fucking mistake,” he murmured, cupping his other hand to her cheek to hold her head still, fixing his gaze on her eyes. Christ, he could drown in those eyes. So blue, so expressive, so beautiful… “I
love
you, Caitlin Reynolds, and if I’m not dreaming this, if in fact you really
are
here, in my bedroom telling me we’ve got a future together, telling me you’re mine, that I’m allowed to love you…”

She looked at him, the warmth of her body seeping into his, the soft curves of her breasts pressed to his bare chest, the curve of her sex nudging the length of his cock. “You’ll what?” she whispered, slipping her fingers up his arms, over his shoulders.

He took her lips in a hungry kiss. A possessive kiss. He captured her face in his hands and claimed her lips, her mouth as his own. Swept his tongue over hers, nipped at her bottom lip, sucked it, plundered her mouth again with greedy strokes.