Catching Heat Page 22

  Angie laughed and turned off the television. “It’s these darn Christmas movies. They’re addictive. Last year, Livvie came over the weekend before Christmas and we had a Lifetime channel holiday movie marathon.” She leaned forward to set the remote on the coffee table. “Every C and D list actor in Hollywood must love Christmas.”

  “I’m partial to what the sports channel does for the holidays.”

  “What do they do?” Angie asked, her gaze drifting to the Christmas tree she and J.T. had decorated together. Their first tree. One of many, she dared to hope.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Are you saying you watched that movie just to humor me?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” J.T. grinned, slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. Tucked in the crook of his arm, she rested her head on his chest and inhaled his clean masculine scent. “My favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard,” he said as he stroked her hair.

  “I can’t knock that choice,” Angie conceded. “It’s a great movie. And it does take place at Christmastime, so I guess it qualifies.”

  “Are you sure Justin didn’t say something to upset you tonight?”

  Angie tensed at the abrupt change of subject. “What makes you think he said something?” she asked, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace.

  “Despite your denial earlier, the tension in the room when you joined us was a dead giveaway,” J.T. said as he idly threaded his fingers through her hair. “I told him to lay off.”

  “He’s just concerned about you. He thinks I tricked you into marrying me.” She shifted and pulled back to look at him. “I told him he was wrong.” It was the truth, marriage had been the last thing on her mind when she found out she was pregnant. But now the one thing she thought would never happen, actually had. She wanted a real marriage—one that would last a lifetime. And she wanted it with J.T.

  “I know it bothered you that I asked for a paternity test. But a friend of mine from college, who plays for the Padres, was in a similar situation and it didn’t end well. For that reason, I had to be absolutely sure.”

  “What happened?”

  “Brett was dating this woman, Lydia, for a while. They met at some club and in the course of a few months it got pretty serious—at least for him. When she told him she was pregnant, he was—well—let’s just say I’d never seen the guy happier.”

  “Did they get married?”

  “Yes. I went to their wedding, which was huge, by the way. Church, flowers, tons of guests, the whole nine yards. About six months into the marriage he found out that she’d been sleeping with her former boyfriend at the same time she was sleeping with him. The kid was the other guy’s, but her ex wasn’t making a few million a year so she decided to pass the kid off as Brett’s. He never had a paternity test done, never asked for a pre-nup. He trusted her completely.”

  “He must have been devastated.”

  J.T.’s expression darkened. “Completely blindsided is more like it. When it all came out she said that she’d only married him so she could get the payoff. The whole relationship had been a con. She never loved him at all.”

  “Did they get divorced?”

  “Yeah, and she got a huge settlement because he didn’t want the whole thing dragged out in court and in the media. She’s on a reality show now with some other ex-wives of athletes. The worst part is he would have done anything for her and the baby. It killed him when he found out the baby wasn’t his. And to add insult to injury, it affected his career. He hasn’t played the same since.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “That’s why I asked for the paternity test even though I was pretty sure you were telling the truth. I never believed you were after my money since you weren’t exactly falling all over yourself to spend time with me.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know what I know now.”

  He cocked his head. “What’s that?”

  She held his gaze and swallowed past the knot of emotion lodged in her throat. In one blinding moment it occurred to her that while she wanted their marriage to last forever, maybe he didn’t. “That you’re best man I’ve ever known,” she whispered, her voice catching at the sudden tenderness glowing in his eyes.

  “I’m glad you took a chance on us, Angie. Even though you were scared, you put the baby’s needs ahead of your fears.”

  “J.T., I need to ask you…”

  He put a finger to her lips and silenced her. “You’re nothing like Lydia. My brother is suspicious of everything and everyone, and I understand why. He’s seen a lot of bad shit. Don’t let him ruin the holidays,” J.T. said adamantly, and then paused. “Thank you for helping my mom.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip before lowering his hand and reaching for hers. “I know it’s a lot of work.”

  “I love baking.” Angie twined her fingers with his. “It’s not work when you love what you do, right? That’s how you feel about baseball.”

  “True. I’m lucky to be doing what I love for a living.” J.T. hesitated before going on. “Maybe you should consider doing what you love for a living.”

  “You mean bake?”

  “Why not? You just said you love it, and everything you make is fucking amazing. You should talk to Mom about making the arrangement permanent.”

  “I don’t know, J.T.,” Angie said with a shake of her head. “I’ve always done some type of accounting work.”

  “But did you enjoy it?”

  Angie bit her lower lip and shrugged. “Not really. I just had an aptitude for it.”

  “You should think about it. It’s something you can do from home.”

  “But I’m going to have my hands full with the baby. I might not have the time, or the energy.”

  “A lot of women work after they have children.” J.T. squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. Just know that it’s an option.” He grinned. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll become famous like that cookie lady, Mrs. Fields. Didn’t she start out by baking cookies in her home?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said and then laughed. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. It’s crazy.”

  J.T. lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. His lips were warm and sent a prickle of awareness through her body. “That’s what you said about us getting married,” he murmured against her skin as he held her gaze. “And look how that turned out.”

  An hour later, Angie lay naked in J.T.’s king-size bed staring at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure if it was the Egyptian cotton sheets that brushed against her skin like the softest of silk, or the hypnotic sound of the water running in the master bathroom but either way, her entire being had been lulled into a state of complete and utter relaxation.

  Just then, the baby decided it was an excellent time to go for a jog. Startled, Angie put a hand to her abdomen and didn’t move. Awe filled her as the baby continued to perform some sort of calisthenics in her stomach.

  Seeing the image of the baby during the ultrasound had affected her more than she’d thought it would. She’d seen the pictures in her pregnancy book and had known what to expect, but still, seeing a picture of her baby for the first time had jump-started the maternal instincts she hadn’t known she possessed into high gear. From now until the day she died, she’d be a mother. Yes, she was still terrified out of her mind about the delivery and the responsibility of raising a child into a fully functioning adult, but for the first time since she found out she was pregnant she was truly looking forward to meeting her daughter.

  By the time J.T. finished showering, the baby had settled down and Angie wasn’t quite so overwhelmed with emotion.

  “You’re still awake?” J.T. said, as he emerged naked from the bathroom. Her avid gaze took in his hard male muscle in motion as he moved across the hardwood floor toward the bed and that’s all it took for her body to react. Warmth pooled low in her belly and her nipples became taut. “I thought you’d be asleep by the time I got o
ut of the shower.”

  “The baby just moved.” She lifted the sheet and blanket so he could climb in beside her. The scent of his soap surrounded her as he stretched out beside her, then turned to his side. Under the covers, he placed his hand on her stomach. His fingers were warm on her skin.

  “I wonder when I’ll be able to feel her kick.”

  “Soon.” Angie turned her head to meet his gaze. “You smell good,” she said, and shifted on to her side to face him. Over his shoulder, her gaze fell on several baseball related awards displayed modestly in a corner curio cabinet made of dark wood. What wasn’t inside the cabinet was what J.T. was chasing. An MVP award. That was his ultimate goal and why he’d dedicated his entire off-season to a grueling training regimen. Earlier, he’d encouraged her to chase her dreams, but what if marriage to her cost him his? Although he never complained, she was acutely aware that he’d missed a few training sessions with Jake because of his obligation to her and the baby.

  J.T. slid his hand to the curve of her back and brushed his fingers along her spine. “What do you want for Christmas?” she asked, trying to ignore the little voice inside her that told her that she and the baby could stand in the way of J.T.’s career aspirations.

  “Nothing,” he said, sliding his hand up her back and hooking his leg over both of hers. Her skin sizzled where he pressed against her.

  “Nothing?” She skimmed her hand over his shoulder, tracing a path to his neck where the still damp ends of his hair were cool to her touch. “Come on, there must be something you want.”

  “I have everything I want right here,” J.T. said in a husky voice and then leaned forward and took possession of her mouth. And after a long, slow and thorough kiss that stole her breath, she pulled back and met his smoldering gaze.

  “So do I,” she whispered, just before he reclaimed her mouth and kissed her senseless.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A week later, on Christmas Eve morning, as Angie was putting the finishing touches on her make-up, J.T. appeared in the doorway to the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. Instead of his normal attire of jeans and a T-shirt, he wore a burgundy sweater and a pair of tan khakis. The combination accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and his powerful legs. Unlike her, he didn’t have to try to look hot—he just was. “What time are your mother and sister getting here?”

  “In about twenty minutes or so.” She looked down and rifled through her cosmetics bag. “Of course, that depends on whether or not Livvie was ready on time.”

  “I just got a call from Leah Porter. She’s the reporter from Sacramento Life who asked me for an interview. I got the go-ahead from my agent and from Kelly, so Leah wanted to set it up ASAP.”

  “But it’s Christmas Eve,” Angie said, surprised the reporter wasn’t waiting until after the holidays.

  “Apparently she’s on a deadline. She said it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.” He glanced at his watch. “I told her I could meet her in thirty minutes for breakfast. That should get me back here in time to get acquainted with your mom and sister before we head over to my parents’ house later this afternoon. But I can put her off if you want me to stick around.”

  Angie pulled a blush compact and a brush from the satin bag and met his gaze in the mirror. “Actually, it’s fine. Josh is dropping by to pick up Livvie at eleven. He offered to give her a brief tour of Davis while she’s here. And I’m taking Mom out for brunch. It’ll give me a chance to catch up with her.” Not to mention give her an opportunity to talk to her mother alone. She had to make it perfectly clear to her mother that things had changed and that her marriage to J.T. would be permanent. Or at least she hoped it would.

  “Then I’ll see you back here in a few hours.” J.T. came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist and rested his hands on her belly. As he pressed a kiss to her cheek, his fresh soapy scent enveloped her and she relaxed against him. After growing up in a home where displays of affection were few and far between, Angie had—at first—been surprised by J.T.’s tendency to randomly touch or kiss her during the course of the day. But now she’d begun to crave the intimacies that came along with having a real relationship with her husband—intimacies that went beyond sex. “By the way, I heard from Matt. He and Kelly can’t make it up here until after the first of the year. They’re in L.A. for Kelly’s sister’s wedding.”

  “I know. Kelly called last night. She asked me for help with her maid of honor toast.” Angie smiled, recalling Kelly’s desperate plea for assistance. “My advice was to speak from the heart and not to use any swear words.”

  “We’re talking about Kelly. That might be difficult,” J.T. said with a sardonic grin as he kissed her cheek one more time and then relinquished his hold on her.

  “She’s gotten much better about that,” Angie called after him as he headed out of the bathroom. “She doesn’t swear nearly half as much as she used to.”

  Angie heard J.T. laugh as he left the bedroom. Still smiling, she applied blush to her cheeks and then selected her favorite rose colored lipstick from her bag and smoothed it on. After she finished, she surveyed her appearance and was somewhat satisfied with the result. She’d finally broken down and visited the mall, where she purchased a few maternity items. Today she wore a knee length navy blue dress with short sleeves and a scoop neck. Thanks to the knit jersey fabric, she no longer felt like a stuffed sausage ready to burst at the seams.

  Forty minutes later, after an awkward hug from her mother and a more enthusiastic one from Livvie, Angie sat on the couch between them and found the tension in the room almost unbearable. From the moment she arrived, it was obvious by Selena’s stony countenance that she still disapproved of Angie’s marriage. Not once had she mentioned the baby, and to make matters worse, she’d eyed Angie’s baby-bump as if the spawn of Satan had taken up residence in her womb.

  Livvie, on the other hand, had asked if she could touch Angie’s stomach and seemed excited at the prospect of being an aunt. She hadn’t seen Livvie since Thanksgiving and her sister seemed more grown-up than ever. The changes were subtle, but they were there. She’d ditched her glasses and started wearing contacts, and she’d had her waist-length hair cut into an adorable pixie—a decision that Selena had vehemently opposed according to Livvie during one of her and Angie’s text message exchanges. But Livvie was eighteen now and declared the decision to cut her hair was hers and hers alone. Selena hadn’t approved, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. As all teenagers eventually did, Livvie was asserting her independence and trying to form her own identity.

  Despite Livvie’s upbeat demeanor, the oppressive weight of her mother’s ill-concealed disapproval surrounded Angie like a shroud. It was too late to retract her invitation but that’s exactly what she wanted to do. Navigating the next twelve hours promised to be as tricky as walking through a minefield. She only hoped she could escape it without any emotional mines detonating and blowing her life to bits.

  “Where’s your…husband?” Selena said the word husband like she might catch something deadly by uttering it. In her black dress and severe bun, her mother looked like she was attending a funeral rather than celebrating Christmas. All she needed was a black veil and dark sunglasses to complete the look.

  “J.T. had a business meeting. He’ll be back a few hours.” Angie turned to Livvie, who’d chosen a brighter color for the day. She’d paired an icicle blue sheath with the snow white bolero sweater Angie had given her for her birthday. “I love that dress. Did you make it?”

  Livvie’s face flushed with pleasure. “Yes. I saw the design online at one of those expensive stores and made up a pattern.”

  “You’re so talented,” Angie said, and surprised Livvie by putting her arm around her slim shoulders and giving her a hug. “Are you sure you don’t want to study clothing design?”

  “Olivia’s decided to pursue medicine, isn’t that right?” Selena cast a stern look toward her youngest daughter.

  Livvie�
��s smile faltered and the light faded from her blue eyes as she tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Yes, Mom,” she said in a flat dull tone just as the doorbell sounded.

  “That must be Josh.” Angie pushed up from the couch and crossed the room to open the door. “Hey,” she greeted Josh with a smile and pulled the door open farther so he could enter. “Come on in.”Josh brushed past her and politely waited until she closed the door.

  “The tree looks good,” Josh said, casting a quick glance at the Christmas tree. “And I see J.T. finally eighty-sixed that butt-ugly couch.”

  Angie laughed. “I hope you never said that to his face. He had a strange attachment to that thing.” She put her hand on Josh’s back and guided him toward the couch where Livvie gazed at him shyly, while Selena studied him with a frown.

  Josh, with his long hair and baggy clothes would most definitely not be her mother’s ideal candidate for chauffeuring Livvie to Davis, never mind that Josh probably looked like every other nineteen year old boy on campus. But she’d already agreed to it, and Angie prayed that her mother wouldn’t insult the Sawyers by implying that Livvie wouldn’t be safe with their son.

  “Josh, this is my mother, Selena DeMarco, and my sister, Livvie,” Angie said with a sweep of her hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Josh replied directly to Angie’s mother before looking at Livvie. “If you haven’t had breakfast, there’s a great place near the campus where we all get coffee and grub. They make a sick breakfast burrito.”

  Her mother frowned. “Sick?”

  “That means it’s good, Mom,” Livvie said with an indulgent smile.

  “Since when did the word sick ever become the equivalent of good?”

  “Around the time totes became the equivalent of totally,” Angie said, and shared a grin with Livvie, who used the slang word when they texted.

  Her mother sighed and narrowed her gaze on Josh. “Your hair is awfully long. Don’t they have barbers in Sacramento?”