Catching Heat Read online

  “Hey, Angie,” he answered the phone with what he hoped was a nonchalant tone. She didn’t need to know that he’d been thinking about her pending decision constantly for the past week. It had been as hard as fuck not to call her but his gut told him it wasn’t a good idea. Whatever her decision, the baby would always link them together—marriage or not.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “No.” He leaned against the counter and stared at his workout scheduled pinned to the refrigerator with a Blaze magnet. “I just got home from the gym. How’s the job search going?”

  “Not well,” she said, her tone subdued. “I’ve been thinking about your offer.”

  J.T.’s heart started to thud. “You’ve made up your mind?”

  “I…I think so. But I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

  “I can make a trip into San Francisco tomorrow and we can talk.”

  “How about I drive to Sacramento?” Angie offered. “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the city for a day.”

  “Anything you want,” he said, and recalled saying words to that effect when he’d had her in his bed. On the night that had changed everything.

  “Tomorrow around noon then?” Her question forced him to shake off the erotic memories of the night he couldn’t seem to forget.

  “That’s fine. I’ll text you my address.”

  “Okay.” She paused. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Before he could reply, she hung up and he was left without a clue as to what her decision might be.

  * * *

  In front of the address J.T. had given her, Angie sat in her Jetta and admired his home. It wasn’t the type of house she’d pictured him living in. For some reason, she’d imagined him in something more modern, or in one of those ridiculous McMansions a lot of ballplayers purchased when they finally made it to the big leagues and itched to show off their new found wealth.

  J.T. had definitely surprised her. His house was lovely, despite the fact that the landscape needed some attention—there were a few overgrown trees and shrubs near the front of the house that could benefit from some pruning. Still, it didn’t detract from the home’s curb appeal. The trim, painted the color of dark molasses, was the perfect contrast to the deep golden tones of the stucco. Two arched windows flanked the front door and that, along with the gingerbread shingles on the steep gable, reminded Angie of the Tudor style homes she’d seen a few times on her favorite show, House Hunters.

  Tearing her gaze from the lovely home, Angie opened the door and slid out of the car. As she walked toward the porch, the sweet smell of grass and the sound of soon to be bare tree branches rustling in the light breeze were almost soothing. For the first time in ages she thought about the home her family had lived in before they’d moved west. She’d loved that house, and to this day wanted so much to believe that if only her father hadn’t been traded to the Oakland A’s they might still be a loving family inside that modest two-story in Kansas City.

  Of course, that was total crap. They’d never been a loving family, she just hadn’t realized it yet. Her father had been cheating on her mother even then. And now, that house, and the memories she had of it would always be tainted by the father she had adored, the father who turned out to be nothing but a liar and a cheat. A man who had left his family almost destitute, and who, even after his death, found a way to make sure the family he’d left behind wasn’t adequately provided for.

  When she reached the porch, Angie was so nervous that she had to clasp her hands tightly together to keep them from shaking. To say her decision had been difficult was an understatement. But no matter how many times she went over it in her head, she always reached the same conclusion—the baby had to come first and if that meant marrying J.T., then so be it.

  But it wouldn’t be the kind of marriage J.T. might be expecting. It would be one of convenience, nothing more. And she planned to extricate herself from it as soon as humanly possible.

  Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell.

  Chapter Six

  When J.T. opened the door, butterflies fluttered madly in Angie’s stomach. Why was it that each time she was in his presence sizzling awareness filled every single pore in her body? Unfortunately, she had no answer to that question; J.T. possessed a magnetism that couldn’t be explained with mere words. Suffice it to say, no other man had ever affected her in such a primitive way.

  “Hey,” he said with a disarming grin and motioned her inside.

  Brushing past him, she caught the clean, fresh scent of his soap, or maybe it was his cologne. She hadn’t figured it out yet. Whatever it was, it drifted into her senses and reminded her of the night they’d spent together. Not that she could ever forget it. J.T. and his demanding lips traveling over every inch of her body had seen to that.

  As she stepped inside the house, the first thing Angie noticed was that the large living room with its rich dark hardwood floors was sparsely furnished. The only items in the room were a large screen, flat-panel television, a dark green sofa and one end table with a brass lamp on it. There was nothing on the stark white walls—not a picture, not a mirror, nothing.

  Located in the center of the far wall was a gorgeous white brick fireplace with a custom built mantle, also painted white. There seemed to be some intricate carvings on the wood, but as it was the same color as the walls, it blended in and its uniqueness was easy to miss. White seemed to be the color of the day. The room was in dire need of a color make-over.

  “I haven’t done much decorating,” J.T. said as he closed the door.

  Angie turned to look at him. “The hardwood floor is gorgeous. There’s so much you could do with this room.”

  “Decorating isn’t my thing.” He looked around the room with a sheepish grin. “Obviously.”

  “You could always hire someone.” As she spoke, several design ideas came to mind. The room was a blank slate, the possibilities were endless.

  “I’ve thought about it.” J.T. shrugged. “But with all the excitement of the season, I never got around to contacting anyone.”

  “Is the rest of the house as bare?”

  “Pretty much.”Amusement quirked his mouth. “Your place is much nicer.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled, pleased at the unexpected compliment. “I enjoyed transforming it.”

  “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” he suggested. “Would you like some tea?”

  “I thought you didn’t like tea,” she said and followed him from the living room toward the back of the house. His gray T-shirt accentuated his powerfully built torso and the faded jeans, well, they showed off the firmest ass she’d ever laid eyes on. And yes, she had laid eyes on it. To divert her wayward thoughts, she forced herself to concentrate on the crown molding in the room they were passing through. Although completely devoid of furniture, she was fairly certain it was intended to be a formal dining room.

  “I picked some up for you. If I recall correctly coffee and alcohol are off limits, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, surprised by his thoughtfulness. “But I miss the beer more than the coffee.” Angie came to a halt as they entered the kitchen. “This is nice.”She compared the spacious room to the cramped kitchen in her apartment. It was simple but elegant, with a backsplash of ivory subway tiles that contrasted beautifully with framed kitchen cabinets that were made of rich walnut. The appliances were stainless steel and over the rectangular island that also served as a breakfast bar, there hung a steel and glass ventilation hood. The entire room looked like something out of a home and garden magazine.

  Directly opposite the island was a cozy nook that housed a round table and chair set that matched wood of the cabinets. The shutters were open and from her vantage point she was able to see that the backyard was expansive, with a swimming pool and a beautiful array of trees and plants beyond. As with the front yard, the trees and other shrubbery needed pruning, but it didn’t detract from the overall loveliness of the yard.

  �
�How about that tea?”

  She turned to find J.T. on the other side of the island and met his questioning gaze. “No. Thank you.” Slipping the strap of her purse from her shoulder, she moved to the table in the nook and set her purse atop it. There was no use in drawing things out. She’d made her decision. The sooner they squared things away, the better. “Let’s talk.”

  “Okay.” J.T. skirted the island and approached her. “Why don’t we sit down for this?”

  When they were sitting across from each other at the table, Angie’s nerves had returned full force. Not wanting J.T. to see how anxious she was, she clasped her trembling hands together in her lap.

  J.T. leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. He seemed relaxed, but the sudden tension in the room told her otherwise and made her feel slightly better that he wasn’t as calm and collected as he appeared.

  “You said last night you’ve come to a decision.”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about your offer since the last time I saw you.” Despite the calmness of her voice, Angie’s knees began to shake. She unclasped her hands and pressed down on her thighs. “You probably don’t know this about me, but I’m not one of those fly by the seat of your pants type of people. I like order and structure. I don’t like surprises, and this baby, well, this baby is the biggest surprise I’ve ever had to deal with.”

  J.T. shot her a wry smile. “Tell me about it.”

  “So much has happened in such a short time. I…I feel helpless. I don’t like feeling like that.”

  “You don’t have to do this alone, Angie.” His reassuring tone didn’t do much to calm her nerves. In fact, his sincerity only heightened her concern that what she was about to suggest might turn out to be a huge mistake.

  “I have to ask one more time. Why marriage?”She still didn’t get it. Why would J.T. tie himself to someone he barely knew?

  J.T. shrugged. “My father taught me that stepping up and taking responsibility for one’s actions is what a man does, no matter the circumstances.”

  How nice for him. He had a father who possessed morals. What a novel concept.

  Angie let out a soft sigh. This was going to be much harder than she thought. On the surface, J.T. seemed like a decent guy. But so had her father. Dante DeMarco had everyone believing he was a saint, but his good-guy image was a façade. A big fat lie. No one knew that better than she did.

  “As you know, my first instinct was to turn down your offer.” She didn’t call it a proposal. A proposal seemed more intimate. This was more of a business transaction and somehow that made it more palatable.

  Other than a slight flicker of something indefinable in his eyes, J.T.’s expression remained impassive. “But now you’re considering it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I see.” J.T. held her gaze.

  Angie cleared her throat and forged ahead. “As I see it we both want something. You want to be married to me when the baby is born and I need someone to pay for my medical insurance and living expenses until I can get back on my feet. To that end, I suggest that we get married for a period of no more than two years and then go our separate ways. Of course, we’ll work out a mutually beneficial custody arrangement beforehand, as well as a pre-nuptial agreement.” She paused, unnerved by his unreadable gaze. “What do you think?”

  She hoped he wouldn’t insist on a “real” marriage. She wasn’t about to admit to him that he threatened the safe world she’d created for herself—a world where her heart would never get broken because she never allowed anyone close enough to do the honors. She couldn’t expose herself like that or risk ending up like her mother.

  J.T. remained silent as if weighing what he wanted to say next carefully. When he finally spoke, the resoluteness in his tone surprised her. “First of all, I don’t take marriage lightly and if you decide to accept my proposal, I’ll do my absolute best to be a good husband and father. I noticed you didn’t mention sex, so I will. It’s your call. I’d never pressure you or force myself on you, but I’d be lying if I said that sex isn’t important to me. I believe it’s an integral part of marriage.”

  “But it wouldn’t be a real marriage.”

  “It’s real in the sense that we’ll be legally wed. And in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already slept together. And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it because we both know otherwise.”

  Warmth surged beneath her skin. “I’d prefer to keep our arrangement strictly business. Sex isn’t on the table.” As she said the words, an image of J.T. slipping her underwear from her hips after setting her on the edge of the kitchen table at his condo sent a pulse of heat between her legs. She shifted in her chair and banished the erotic interlude from her mind—at least temporarily. Like all memories of that night, it would eventually resurface to remind her of what had always been missing in the few relationships she’d allowed herself to have.

  Relationships where the sex had been both mediocre and uninspired. But with J.T. it was different. For the first time in her life she’d finally understood the concept of making love. It was thrilling, and then frightening. That’s why she’d run. No man had ever taken up residence in her heart or her soul. She couldn’t let that happen. The price she’d have to pay when he eventually cheated on her—and he would—was much too steep.

  “No sex? That’s your condition?” J.T.’s expression remained neutral.

  Angie nodded. “You had a condition regarding the paternity test. This is mine.”

  “Fine. No sex. I do have another condition though, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask considering a paternity test is pretty standard in these situations.” J.T. paused. “I don’t want my family to know our marriage is a sham.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’ll be easier that way. For both of us.”

  “What about when we divorce?”

  J.T. leaned back in his chair, averting his gaze to stare at the backyard behind her. “I’ll deal with that if…when it happens.”

  Angie expelled a relieved breath. “Think of it this way, J.T. All marriages are doomed to fail. We’re ahead of the game.”

  His solemn gaze returned to hers. She schooled her expression under his intense scrutiny. It wouldn’t do for him to suspect how much he affected her.

  “My parents have been married for almost thirty-eight years.”

  Angie shrugged a shoulder and tried not to be impressed. “Then they’re the exception.”

  “If you believe all marriages are doomed to fail then why were you marrying Steve?”

  “Scott,” Angie corrected him crossly. “And it’s none of your business why I was going to marry him.”

  J.T.’s mouth twisted wryly. “All you had to say was that you fell in love with the guy. But you didn’t.”

  She waved her hand. “That goes without saying.”

  J.T.’s eyes bored into hers and caused a tingle to dance up her spine. “If you love someone it should never go without saying.”

  Flustered, Angie lifted a hand to brush her hair back. “Fine. I loved him. In fact, I still love him. Satisfied?”

  * * *

  J.T. was most definitely not satisfied. Whenever he’d thought about getting married he never imagined his bride-to-be would be in love with another man. And while Angie might consider their marriage to be purely a business arrangement, he definitely didn’t. Oh, he’d agreed to her “counter-offer”—it was the only way to get what he wanted. Once they were married, he’d show her that raising their child together long-term could work. It was the best option for the both of them and for the baby.

  Pushing up from the chair, he moved to the refrigerator. “Would you like some water?” he asked as he opened the door and reached for a bottle.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  He grabbed another bottle and closed the door with his elbow. Returning to the table he handed Angie her bottle then moved back to the island and leaned against it as he twisted off the cap.

  “I think we should get that pa
ternity test out of the way and then get married as soon as possible.” He took a long drink to calm his suddenly thundering heart. It was real now. His entire life was about to do a one-eighty. Instead of just thinking about himself and his career, he was about to add a wife and a child to the mix. Would he be able to handle both? “You have to be out of your apartment by the end of the month, right?” he asked after swallowing.

  Angie nodded, then averted her gaze as she opened her bottle. She’d been nervous ever since she arrived. He couldn’t blame her; he was nervous too. He was just better at hiding it.

  “You’re welcome to move your furniture in here if you’d like. I can arrange for a moving company to pick it up.”

  She looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes. “Are you sure? I was thinking of putting it in storage.”

  “Why pay for storage?” he stated the obvious. “There’s plenty of room here.”

  “That’s true.” She lifted the bottle to her lips. J.T. felt a tug of arousal low in his gut as he remembered her soft lips traveling down his stomach to his cock and—

  “How about the week after Thanksgiving?” she asked, interrupting the potent flashback.

  “Is that enough time to plan a wedding?” He set his water on the counter and shifted to ease the ache in his groin.

  “Yes. All we really need is a marriage license.” She took another sip of water. “I think we can agree that we don’t want to make a big deal of this. A civil ceremony should suffice. It’s practical, and I don’t think a church wedding is appropriate.” She shifted to cross a leg over her knee. She wore a green dress with a denim jacket. The hemline was modest yet short enough to afford him a tantalizing view of her shapely legs. “What do you think?”

  What he thought was she had an incredible body. How in the world was he supposed to live with her and not take her to bed? It was fucking insane, that’s what it was.

  “A civil ceremony is fine. And I have no problem seeing your doctor and paying for the paternity test. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable with him or her until you can find someone here in town.” His parents would be disappointed about the civil ceremony, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He hoped the news about the baby would make up for it.