Caitlyn's Christmas Wish Page 4

  “Will do, although it’s not nearly as roomy as my house in Malibu. But it’ll do in a pinch.”

  “You could always book a room at the hotel.”

  “Nah.” Grant laid down on the couch and rested his booted feet on the armrest while using his arms as a pillow. “I’ve been on the road for the past twenty-four hours. I think I’ll snooze for a while. Maybe watch a little football afterward. Got any food around here? Or should I order takeout?”

  Ridge resisted the urge to shove Grant’s boots, rhinestones and all, off his couch. “Order out. I’m not much of a cook. Here’s the remote. I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his cell phone and wallet before heading out the door. Turning the key in his car, he blew out a breath. The next few days were going to be a challenge. He’d better stay alert at all times because one thing he could count on with Grant was that anything could happen. It was better to be prepared than to be blindsided.

  ***

  Caitlyn brought a squirmy Brody downstairs a few hours later to find the house quiet except for the sound of the dryer running. She’d done her best to entertain him with blocks and interactive books but he’d quickly grown tired of them and wanted to crawl. Other than discovering that the closet was a good hiding place, there hadn’t been much else to let him explore. In desperation, Caitlyn had finally opened an educational kids’ app on her phone, which he loved—for about two minutes.

  As she rounded the corner toward the kitchen, she heard the front door open and turned. Little Max ran inside, chattering about a cardinal he’d just seen on a tree branch in the front yard.

  “Max!” Sierra said in exasperation. “How many times have I asked you not to run in the house?”

  “Sorry.” He slowed to a walk for two seconds before picking up speed again.

  Sierra huffed. “Boys!”

  Scott smiled. “Better get ready for this one, honey.”

  “What was I thinking, wanting another one?”

  “Aw, you know you love ‘em.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Sierra leaned in for Scott’s kiss. Caitlyn’s heart fluttered at the brief but intimate moment. This was what she’d always wanted. This was how life was supposed to be. She knew it wasn’t always possible, but a girl could dream, right?

  At that moment, Jacinda emerged from her husband’s office. “Hello, Max. Did you enjoy the movie?”

  “Yeah, Grandma.” He told them all about it, elaborating on his favorite parts.

  “Sounds like my kind of movie. Are you hungry?” With her hand resting on Max’s shoulder, she looked up at the adults.

  “No. We ate popcorn at the theater.”

  Caitlyn spoke up. “I was just coming down to feed Brody.” She moved past the group and strapped him into an adjustable baby seat at the kitchen table. After opening a jar of pureed peas and carrots and finding a clean spoon, she heard Jacinda inform Sierra that Jacey was still asleep.

  “I’ll go check on her,” Scott told his wife before disappearing upstairs.

  “Your father and I will be heading over to the festival in about half an hour. I’ll be emceeing the cookie dough bakeoff. Your father’s agreed to be one of the taste testers.”

  “Ooh, sounds like my kind of contest. Why didn’t you invite me to be a judge?” Sierra asked.

  “Maybe next year.”

  Caitlyn fed Brody and cleaned off his face amid the bustle of Charles and Jacinda leaving, followed shortly by Sierra and her family. “We’ll see you down there,” Sierra called out to Caitlyn just before closing the door.

  Caitlyn exhaled on a sigh. A nice, quiet house. Even the dryer had stopped running. Finally! She and Brody would make an appearance at the festival for Charles and Jacinda’s sake, but she had no intention of staying long.

  She’d just sat down on a plush couch in the living room after feeding Brody and cleaning his face when the front door opened again. Her muscles tensed as Grant walked into the room. “Well, well. Look who’s here.”

  “Didn’t you take off with Ridge?” She hated to admit she had spied on them from the bedroom window.

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll be sleeping in his shoebox, but it’s too boring to stay there for long. You know what I mean? Too quiet.” As if to punctuate his statement, Grant’s cell phone rang. After a quick glance at the screen, he answered, “Yo, babe. Whatcha want? I’m kinda busy right now . . . mm-hmm, yeah, I get it . . . if you’re happier with him, I’m happy for ya . . . all right. No harm, no foul . . . you, too. See you around.”

  Caitlyn shook her head. So much for quiet. When Grant hung up, she decided to be blunt. “Why are you here, Grant?”

  He tossed her a falsely benevolent smile. “I grew up here. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to visit my parents at Christmastime?”

  “Drop the pretense and tell me why you’re really here.” A strange tightening in her chest told her his reasons weren’t so altruistic.

  Grant regarded her solemnly before taking a seat in a recliner. His gaze rested on Brody, who had lifted himself up next to the coffee table and began banging on it with a plastic cup. Grant’s half-smile, punctuated by a wistful sigh, twisted Caitlyn’s insides. Maybe a heart existed in this man after all. When she’d first met Grant at a charity ball, they hit it off. The small-town boy’s charms warmed her lonely heart and lit up her cutthroat world. A model’s life wasn’t easy and this man had the ability to put a smile on her face both with his swoony voice and goofy grins. He even wrote a song for her, which he named “My Girl, My Heart.” It eventually hit the number one spot on the charts. Three years later, he was clearly struggling to make it into the top ten. Drugs did that to a person.

  Grant’s eyes hardened when he brought his gaze back to hers. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re here. I mean, sure . . . my parents wanted to spend time with Brody, but they’re treating you like you’re still part of the family. What’s up with that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s your game, Caitlyn? Trying to worm your way into my parents’ good graces won’t work. They’ve got Brody where they want him.”

  Caitlyn barely heard him over the pounding of her heart. “Are you implying that they’re after Brody—as in seeking custody of him?”

  Grant shrugged. Caitlyn fought a desire to smack the grin off his face. No. It couldn’t be. She’d come here at their invitation simply to give them some grandparents’ time. Grant might not be all that a parent should be, but Charles and Jacinda were. They had raised their children to be responsible adults—although Grant somehow fell through the cracks. She, of all people, should know when a parent or spouse didn’t have the other person’s best interests at heart.

  Not only that but Charles was mayor of this fair town. He and Jacinda were simply too busy to take care of a baby.

  “You’re lying.”

  Grant shrugged again, seemingly unperturbed. “You don’t have to believe me. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re facing them in court.”

  Would they?

  The possibility didn’t strike fear into Caitlyn as much as it saddened her. Any court would see that she had more than enough money and time to devote to her child. But the thought that Charles and Jacinda had brought her here under false pretenses hurt. Badly.

  She’d trusted them. They’d saved her life. She owed them.

  But she wasn’t going to pay them back by handing over her child.

  She asked, “So what is it that you want, Grant?” Because if she’d learned anything about her ex-husband, it was that he always wanted more than he could have.

  Grant leaned back in the recliner and rested his arms behind his head. “I’m just here to see my folks and spend some time with my son. I feel bad about neglecting him, although I was pretty busy at the time.”

  Mm-hmm. Busy with his groupies. Responding to her incredulous look, he added, “As you know, it isn’t easy creating great art. It can be messy and time-consuming, a real drag at times. But when you hit that sweet spot, it makes all the gar
bage worth it.”

  Caitlyn couldn’t relate. She’d never hit that sweet spot unless she counted the first time she’d seen herself on a department store ad wearing an outfit she liked. Never mind the fact that it had been carefully selected for her yet she hadn’t been allowed to keep it. The long hours of primping, sitting absolutely still while the hair stylist and makeup artist worked their magic wore her nerves thin. Still, she’d smiled for the camera in hopes that being good would earn a smile from her mother in return.

  It hadn’t happened.

  Her mother, like Grant, always wanted more than she could have. And her father was the biggest pushover—a.k.a. enabler—Caitlyn had ever known. The only time he’d ever put his foot down was when Caitlyn’s mother had pushed her to sign a contract for a modeling job in the Congo. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not. It’s too unstable there.” He must have experienced some kind of premonition because one of the models from that group had gone missing and later turned up dead.

  Shaking herself from the haunting memory, Caitlyn hitched her breath. “Brody’s your son, too. Why don’t you stop your parents from pursuing such a lofty goal if you’re so worried about them taking him?”

  Grant shook his head. “I don’t care who has custody of Brody as long as it’s not me. I can’t be taking care of a kid right now even though I love the little brat. I’d like to spend time with him when I can, but I’m also trying to rebuild my career after my band deserted me. Even my fans are raising Cain about my cancellations earlier this year.”

  “As they should. A performer is only as good as his next performance.”

  “You sound like my manager.”

  “I know. Dominic and I saw eye-to-eye on many things.”

  “I’m not with Dominic anymore. He bailed on me after I went to jail.”

  Poor baby. Maybe he’d learned a thing or two from the experience. “Why are you warning me about your parents seeking custody if you don’t care whether they get it or not? Give it to me straight.”

  He lifted one brow. “I just thought you might be worried. Guess not.” He came to his feet and bent over to pick up Brody, who had scooted over to the couch. One look into Grant’s eyes sent him into convulsions. Caitlyn puzzled over it. How could a baby be utterly content in his uncle’s arms—a man he’d hardly seen—yet squirm and cry in his own father’s, who looked so much like the uncle?

  The baby’s instincts were right on. She would do well to follow them.

  “Thanks for the warning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for the festival.”

  “Don’t mind me. I’ll watch Brody while you change.”

  She opened her mouth to refuse his offer when a male voice interrupted them. “That’s okay, bro. I’ve got it covered.”

  Chapter Seven

  Caitlyn glanced up to see Ridge standing in the doorway, hands on hips, cutting an imposing figure in black jeans and his open leather jacket showing a deep green button-down shirt. He’d changed into more casual clothing since heading home. Her heart skipped a beat at his protective stance and the fire she saw in his gaze.

  In answer to her unspoken question, Ridge said, “I came over to invite you and Brody to the festival with me.”

  “Great. So now you wanna date my ex?” Grant growled.

  Ridge shrugged. “We’re just friends enjoying each other’s company. This is a holiday, remember? A chance to relax.”

  “And schmooze with rich people, no doubt,” he taunted, “since we both know you’ll never hit the ground running in this one-horse town.”

  Ridge’s jaw hardened. Caitlyn feared they might come to blows. To her relief, Ridge didn’t back away but kept his cool. “I don’t need a million bucks to be happy, Grant.”

  “So you say.”

  “Why do you think I chose to live here?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “Then knock it off.”

  “Fine. See you at home—er, your shoebox.” Grant sauntered toward the door, answering his ever-ringing phone. “You again, Cheevers? . . . Give me another day or two. I’ll be in touch . . .” Click. Bang!

  Several seconds ticked by before Ridge smiled at Caitlyn. “At least you got to divorce him. The rest of us are stuck.”

  The strain from the strenuous ride here coupled with Grant’s distressing words must be getting to her. Usually one to keep her poise under duress, Caitlyn wasn’t sure now whether to laugh or cry. Tears formed under her eyelids and she brushed them away. Ridge noticed and immediately rushed forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing. What did my brother say to upset you?” He gently gathered her into his arms. A feeling of warmth enveloped Caitlyn, one of security.

  His genuine caring unleashed a torrent as more tears fell. “I’d rather not think about it.”

  He stroked her hair. The rhythmic motions soothed her and she snuggled more tightly in his arms. After staying this way for who knew how long, he asked, “Okay, then. How long will it take you to get ready?”

  Caitlyn swiped the last of her tears away, glancing up at Ridge through watery lashes. Had the guy ever looked more handsome with concern for her written all over his face, his brows scrunched and his topaz eyes regarding her kindly? “You mean, you really did come to ask me to the festival?”

  “Of course. I’d rather not go by myself.”

  “Oh, so that’s the way it is. Brody and I are second best.”

  “Are you kidding? You and Brody are my first choice.” Caitlyn sucked in a breath at his open admission. What she saw in his gorgeous eyes should have sent her running back home. The longing in his gaze was that intense. Instead, she decided to take a chance and inched her mouth closer to his. She knew she’d made the right choice when he closed the distance, his enticing lips sliding over hers. Almost of its own volition, her hand came up to stroke the side of his beard while his lips kept moving, exploring, before slowly drawing away.

  Her lips felt like they were on fire. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Ridge followed the movement with his eyes. Ribbons of longing danced in her belly.

  As Caitlyn waited for her rapid breathing to return to normal, Brody’s babbling penetrated her ears. “Watch out. He’s right behind you.” Ridge stepped around her to scoop him up, ending the trance-like atmosphere. “Go ahead and do whatever you need to do, although you look great to me. Brody and I will entertain each other.”

  “Okay.”

  After a quick shower, Caitlyn stepped into a pair of designer black jeans and high-heeled boots, topping off the look with a lacy off-white sweater. She blow-dried her hair and pulled it into a fancy updo a stylist had taught her, loving how the loose knot at the nape of her neck extended to curled tendrils on one side just below her ear.

  When she stepped into the living room, Ridge gave a low whistle. “Wow. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Caitlyn had heard that word hundreds of times before. Yet it never meant much to her—until now. She steeled herself and began, “About that kiss—”

  She stopped. Ridge held Brody in silence, waiting for her to continue.

  “What did it mean?”

  Ridge seemed to choose his words carefully. “You worked in a business where casual kissing was the norm. It can mean whatever we want it to.”

  His answer was oddly disappointing. She decided to be bold. “There was nothing casual about that kiss, as far as I’m concerned.”

  His gorgeous smile broke through. “Good. There was nothing casual about it for me, either.”

  “You stinker. You were playing it cool.”

  His smile disappeared. “Once burned . . . ”

  “Always burned,” she finished. She laid a hand on Ridge’s arm. “I’m sorry for what Amelia did to you. It wasn’t right.”

  He shrugged her apology off. “I’ve learned to live with it. Come on. Let’s get a move on, Mrs. Reel.” The title startled her. Most people knew her as
Caitlyn Drevier, the model who had transitioned very successfully from girl to woman before the world’s eyes. She’d chosen to keep that as her public name. But secretly, she’d always thought Mrs. Reel had a nice ring.

  For a second, Caitlyn’s imagination slipped into overdrive. What would it be like to be married to Ridge? Very different than her marriage to Grant had been, of that she was positive. Ridge was everything Grant wasn’t. Still, it wouldn’t be wise to lose her head over Ridge at this point. The fact that he was Grant’s brother made things terribly awkward.

  “I need to change Brody’s diaper and prepare a bottle before we leave.” She reached for her son, ignoring the little voice taunting her. She wasn’t using Brody as a shield, she told herself firmly. She was just being a responsible mom.

  Then why was her heart pounding so wildly? And why did that gorgeous smile of his seem to be imprinted in her mind?

  ***

  Ridge and Caitlyn arrived at the town square in time to watch his parents announce the winners for the polar bear plunge and the cookie bakeoff. “Brr.” Caitlyn shivered dramatically in her jacket. “Can you imagine swimming in thirty degree temps, even for a good cause?”

  “It’s by far the most popular event but you won’t catch me doing it ever again.”

  “You tried it before?”

  “Once. It took weeks to feel warm again. My only defense is that I was young and stupid.”

  They chuckled. When Brody became fidgety, Ridge took him in his arms and led her inside the community center where they’d gone the night before. Only this time, he escorted her into a side room hosted by a woman dressed up as Mrs. Claus but whom Ridge introduced as Deborah Whitfield. Caitlyn didn’t miss the white-wigged woman’s curiosity over them. Thankfully, she was too polite to ask. “Would you like to decorate a gingerbread house?”

  Caitlyn tilted her head toward Ridge. “Brody’s kind of young, isn’t he?”

  “Of course. We’re not here for him,” Ridge said with a wink. “We’re here to eat all the candy.”