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"That's it," Matt told Emily as he wrestled her kicking foot into a new
yellow sleeper. "We are out of here. I will not continue to sit around
waiting for something to happen. I'm going to make it happen."
The waiting was driving him up the wall. Not to mention the crying.
Emily had kept him up half the
night. If he didn't find a way to muzzle
the midnight crying, he would probably be evicted. His
downstairs
neighbor had leveled a three-o'clock-in-the-morning complaint about the
music.
He'd tried taking Emily up to the roof after that, but it hadn't been
the same without Caitlyn whispering stories about star-crossed lovers
in his ear. Not that he needed that nonsense, he told himself. But
Emily had seemed less enchanted with the night sky as well. Finally,
he'd put her in the car and driven her around for an hour until she'd
finally fallen asleep sometime around five, which made him tired and
grumpy.
Not jealous, he decided. Definitely not jealous. That scene in the
hallway had not bothered him one
little bit.
Matt closed the last snap on Emily's sleeper and held her up to face
him. She offered him a crooked smile, and he felt his anger slowly seep
away. At least this female didn't have a hidden agenda. He couldn't say
the same for Caitlyn—kissing him last night, kissing Brian this morning
. . . talk about
being tickle.
Talk about being ridiculous. He didn't have any rights over Caitlyn.
She could kiss anyone she wanted, and he supposed her ex-fiance
probably had more in the way of rights than a neighbor she'd only met
a
few days earlier.
But that didn't stop Matt from feeling distinctly pissed off. Brian was
an ass. And Caitlyn should have
her head examined for giving him a
second chance. How much more did she need to see? Matt would
bet at
least twenty bucks that the guy had some other motive for wanting her
back now. He just hadn't figured it out yet, but he would. And then he
would tell Caitlyn.
Why? A small voice inside his head
asked. Why tell her? Why not let her go back to him? Then you won't
have to worry about
her. She'll get married and have babies and live happily ever after.
And
she certainly can't do that with you,
because you 're not ready to
settle down. So why not let her go
back to the boyfriend?
Because he couldn't. It was the only answer he had.
A tentative knock brought his head around in anticipation. Holding
Emily in one arm, he opened the
door, not sure who he wanted to see
more, Sarah—or Caitlyn.
"Hi," Caitlyn said. She was still wearing her bathrobe, still appearing
deliciously tousled and sleepy, making him think of how she would look
in his bed with her long blond hair drifting across the pillow.
He cleared his throat. "What do you want?"
She straightened at his irritated tone. "Coffee. Do you have any?"
It wasn't what he'd expected, but he tipped his head toward the
kitchen. "It's strong."
"Thank God," she murmured, heading toward the kitchen.
He shut the door behind her and followed her into the kitchen, leaning
against the counter as she poured coffee into a black mug and took a
long, grateful sip.
"Better?" he asked.
"Slightly. You were a jerk, you know."
"I've been worse."
"Is that supposed to make it all right?"
"You surprised me."
"Well, Brian surprised me."
"So you kissed him?"
"Actually, he kissed me." She set the mug down on the counter. "Why
does it matter to you?"
"It doesn't. I told you I thought maybe Sarah was outside."
She stared at him. "Was there any word from your investigator?"
"As of an hour ago, she hadn't gone back to the shelter or to the
apartment."
''Maybe she isn't planning to go back.''
"Maybe not, but it's the only lead I've got."
Emily started to squirm, and Caitlyn immediately reached for her.
Matt let the baby go into her arms, feeling an unexpected wave of
tenderness as Caitlyn cuddled the
baby against her breasts. This was
the way it should be—a man, a woman, a child they both loved. He tried
to shake the thought out of his head. But it wouldn't go. In fact, the
voice in his head returned, stronger than ever.
You could have this, Matt. You could
have Caitlyn and Emily. The three
of you could be a family,
the family you've always wanted.
Caitlyn sent him a funny look, and he hoped to hell she couldn't read
his mind. "So what do you want?" he asked gruffly. "Besides coffee."
She raised an eyebrow. "I don't want anything."
"Then why are you here'?"
"I didn't like the way things went in the hall."
"Well, lately nothing has gone right in that damn hallway. Every time I
open my door I see something
I don't want to see."
"Me, too," she said with annoyance.
He felt his temper rising along with his passion and everything else in
his body. This woman was under his skin, and he wanted her out.
"So, are you and lover boy getting back together?"
"No."
"Why not? Hasn't he groveled enough yet?"
"Are you looking for a fight?"
"Maybe I am."
Caitlyn walked into the living room, carefully setting Emily in her car
seat before looking back at him. "Gloves on or off?"
"Off."
"Fine." She put her hands on her hips. "Go ahead, get whatever it is
off your chest."
"You should take Bradley back."
"Why is that?"
"Because he's perfect for you. Roses last night. Kisses this morning.
Or did they come with something else, diamonds maybe?"
"He asked me to go to breakfast, not that it's any of your business."
"Breakfast, perfect. Well thought out. If things go well, you can spend
the whole day together."
"I said no."
"Why? I thought you wanted him back. I thought you said it was all your
fault for acting the martyr,
that he was completely blameless."
"I didn't say that exactly."
"Well, it doesn't matter. Because whether you say yes today or
tomorrow, we both know that you
will eventually say yes."
"How do you know that?"
"Because you'll give in," Matt replied, desperately wanting to convince
her as well as himself. "Bradley
is smart, persistent, probably
habitually punctual. I bet he writes poetry."
"He does not," she snapped, fire flashing in her eyes. "And his name is
Brian."
"Your parents love him. He fits right in. Hell, you probably love him,
too. He's the kind of man you
were raised to love."
"You are so full of shit. You don't know how I was raised."
"You were raised to want stability, to vote Republican, to have a
savings account, to never read the newspaper. With Bradley, you can
have everything you ever wanted— the house in the suburbs, the husband,
the baby—"
"Stop right there," she said, her face red with anger. "You and your
know-it-all attitude. You don't
know what I want or who I want."
"I know what you want," he interrupted. "I can see it every time you
touch Emily. A look comes into your eyes that's incredibly maternal.
You were born to be a mother. And I think Bradley would be very happy
to
make you one."
"Well, he can't make me a mother, no one can," she cried.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Her words didn't make sense to
him.
"I can't have children, Matt. I can't ever have children. You wanted to
know my big secret—there it is. Are you happy now?"
"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Don't make me say it again."
No, it wasn't possible. It wasn't right. Caitlyn was meant to be a
mother. He knew that deep down in his soul. "God, Cait, I didn't know—"
He felt like a complete scumbag. He'd never meant to hurt her, never
ever wanted to see such a look of pain in her eyes. But his damn
jealousy had made him say things he shouldn't have.
"Just shut up. You've said enough. More than enough."
He grabbed her arm as she tried to leave.
"Don't go. Let's talk about it."
"I don't want to talk about it. I don't ever want to talk about it."
"They don't know, do they? Not Brian or your parents or your friends?
You haven't told them."
Tears filled her eyes. "They wouldn't be able to accept it. They
couldn't accept me. Don't you get it, Matt? When Brian said I was
damaged, he was right. Only he didn't know just how right he was." She
looked down at his hand on her arm. "Let me go, Matt. Please let me go."
twelve
"I'm not letting you go," Matt said firmly. "Not like this."
Caitlyn tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was like a vise. That
was the problem with Matt. He
never let go. He never walked away. He
was like a leech, she thought with annoyance, sucking every
last bit of
blood out ot her. "'Not like what?" she asked. "What do you think you
could possibly say
now that would make a difference?"
"I could start with I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." The kindness in his voice caught her off guard,
and she felt the anger begin to slip away. She iried desperately to
hang on to what little control she had left. She wished she'd never
told
him the truth, because jusr as she'd expected, the words had
created a freight tiain of emotions filled
with anger, grief, and
hopelessness, knocking her completely off her feet.
The weakness in her legs made her sway, and Matt reacted by catching
her other arm and pushing her down on the nearby couch. He sat next to
her, wrapping one arm around her
shoulders as he pulled her against his chest, tucking her head under
his chin.
His embrace was a warm cocoon of strength, security, and comfort. His
shoulders were strong, his
chest broad, and she thought maybe, just
maybe, if she didn't move, he could make it all go away. Matt stroked
her back, not speaking, not questioning, just letting her catch her
breath. He wasn't making it go away, but he was making her feel better.
For just a moment she was able to share the burden she'd been carrying,
and it made her feel lighter.
Finally, she sat back. Adjusting her bathrobe, she was reminded that
she still hadn't taken a shower, her hair was tangled, her feet were
bare, tears stained her face, and she probably had red, puffy eyes.
She'd never been a pretty crier. So much for putting on a front. With
Matt she seemed to be baring her body and soul inch by naked inch.
"Are you okay'.'" Matt's eyes searched hers for the truth.
"I'm thinking about going back to bed and starting the morning over in
about—oh, say, twenty years."
"I had no idea, Caitlyn. I knew you were hiding something, but I wasn't
expecting that. I'm sorry I said what I did."
"It doesn't matter."
"It does matter. I hurt you." He looked angry with himself. "I had no
right to do that. Frankly, I was pissed off because you weic kissing
Brian, and it looked like you were getting back together. And I
didn't
like it."
"You didn't like it?"
"No," he admitted.
She caught her breath at the look in his eyes, feeling the powerful
pull of attraction between them. She glanced down at her hands, at the
third finger where she'd once worn another man's ring. How could
she
consider taking Brian back into her life when she had such a strong
reaction to
Matt? But how could she take either one of them into her life when she
couldn't have children? She knew Brian wanted children. And Matt would,
too. She'd seen his paternal instincts blossom with Emily, and a man
who cared so much about finding his sister—about pulling what little of
his family was left back together— was a man who needed to have
children of his own.
"What are you thinking about?"' Matt asked. "Besides hitting me over
the head with something heavy?"
She sent him a shaky smile. "That sounds appealing. Do you have one of
those iron frying pans?"
"Sorry."
"I'm not angry with you, Matt. I just can't quite believe I finally
said the words out loud. I don't think
I've ever said them where anyone
could hear."
"Why not? Why haven't you told your family?"
"Because it's too hard," she said with a helpless shrug.
"They love you. Knowing that you can't have kids wouldn't change that,"
Matt argued.
"Spending one Sunday morning with my parents doesn't make you an expert
on them."
"It was Ions enough for me to see that they want the best for you."
"Which is marriage and children, which is what I can't have. That's the
problem."
"Not all men want children."
"Brian does. He's the last of his family line. He's told me a number of
times how eager his parents are
to sec him with a son to cany on the
family name."
"You could adopt."
"It wouldn't be the same."
"Look, I'm not going to argue Brian's case. But to be fair, the guy has
a right to know the real reason
you sent him away. Because that is why you sent him away, isn't it?"
She hesitated, knowing it was pointless to prevaricate when Matt saw
everything anyway. "After he left,
it was easier, because I didn't have
to think about it every day. The marriage was off. The issue of
children was moot."
"You should tell him now."
"I know I should. I've thought about telling him a hundred times,
especially since he's come back to
town. I know that if I tell him I
can't have kids he'll probably say he's sorry but he can't be with
someone like me. And that will be the end of it."
"Maybe it will be the end, but you should stop putting words in his
mouth. And what about your
parents? What's up with that?"
"It would hurt them, Matt. Think about it. They won't ever have
grandchildren," she said passionately. "I'm an only child. I'm it.
There aren't going to be any more little ones around our Christmas
tree. And my mother, who has driven both of us crazy by fixing every
last little thing wrong with me, can't fix this. That will make her
nuts."
"That's not the whole truth. Try again."
"Oh, for God's sake, you and the friggin' truth." She waved her hand
wildly in the air. "Some things
don't need to be shared with the world.
I'm not hurting anyone with this secret."
"You're hurting the people you say you love. They don't understand why
you're acting the way you're acting. They must sense you're holding
something back. That lack of trust will hurt them more than the truth."
He was making her feel like a fool, and not just a fool but someone
cruel and uncaring. "You're turning this all around," she said in
confusion.
"Am I?" He cupped her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes. "I
don't think you're keeping this secret to protect
anyone but yourself. If you say it out loud, it will make it true,
won't it, Caitlyn? And that's why you can't say it, because it's not
your parents who can't accept it, it's you, isn't it?" he asked, giving
her a little shake.
"Yes," she confessed. "It's me. I don't want it to be true." She pushed
his hands away from her face
and stood up as angry, hurt tears welled
up in her eyes. "When I was a little girl all I ever dreamed about was
growing up and getting married and having children. I was lonely as an
only child with parents who were always at work. I used to make up
families in my head with lots of kids so I wouldn't feel so alone. I'd
play house and make everyone else play house with me until they were so
bored they wouldn't come over anymore. And every time we played house,
I was always the mother." She pointed to herself. "Me.
I was the
mother."
Her voice faltered. "But I'm never going to be a mother, and it just...
it just rips me apart every time I think about it, much less say it
aloud. I'm not just a liar, Matt. I'm a coward. Is that what you wanted
me to say? Because that's the truth, the whole truth. And if you want
to shout it to the world, I can't
stop you."
Matt stood up to face her. "I'm not going to tell anyone."
"Really? Isn't that what you do in the newspaper? Strip someone bare,
tie them to a post, and let the world stare at them?" She saw him pale
under her attack, but it didn't slow down the anger that was running
away with her good sense. She shouldn't have to defend herself. She was
the victim, not the villain.
"That's not what I do, and you know it."
"I know you think I was wrong not to tell Brian. And you're the Robin
Hood of truth, so why don't you run and tell him?"
"Because it's not my secret."
"You tell people's secrets every day."
"Not people I care about."
Shocked by his words, she forgot what she was going to say next. "You
c-care about me?" she stuttered.
He hesitated, then said, "I do, yes." He moved closer to her, shaving
the distance between them to just
a breath. "I don't give a damn about
Bradley or your parents, but you ..." He put his hands through her hair
and pulled her face toward his. "You."
"What?" she whispered.
"You've become important to me."
"I have?"
He answered her with a passion-filled kiss that sucked the last bit of
anger out of her. And when he would have moved away, she pulled him
back, desire fueled by the pounding blood in her veins, and the need
to
take something back from him. He was so many things she wasn't—strong,
courageous, brutally honest—and she needed those traits. Maybe in the
taking she would give him something back like compassion, tenderness,
understanding of the frailties that made them both human.
Then the phone rang, once, twice, persistently, until they could no
longer ignore it.
Mat! groaned, "I'm going to have to unplug that damn thing." He planted
one last kiss on her mouth before reaching for the phone.
Still shaking, Caitlyn returned to the couch in a daze. Hmily slept
peacefully in her car seat, sleeping the sleep of angels while
Caillyn's life was unraveling. Why couldn't she have that kind of
peace? Why couldn't she sleep without want, without regret, two
emotions that were never far
away?
Matt hung up the phone, his eyes alight with excitement. "Someone is in
Sarah's apartment."
"Sarah?"
"No." He frowned. "Some guy. But he used a key, so . .."
"So he must know Sarah."
"I hope so."
"Will Blake talk to him?"
"Only if he tries to leave before I get there. This might be my best
chance to find Sarah. I have to go."
She nodded in agreement. "I'll take care of Emily for you. She can come
to work with me. All those brides dreaming of babies will love her."
His eyes darkened. "What about you? How will you feel?"
Caitlyn hesitated, deciding there was no more need for secrets or even
half-truths between them.
"I'll feel the way I've been feeling the last
couple of days—like her mother."
He frowned. "I can't ask you to do it. Now that I know—"
"You're not asking me. I'm offering. It's too late for me to pull away.
I knew when I took Emily out of her car seat Friday night that I would
fall in love with her." Caitlyn sent Emily a tender glance. "And I
did.
What will a few more hours matter?"
Matt didn't have an answer. And neither did she. He would do his best
to get Sarah back. And Caitlyn would help him, even if Sarah's coming
back meant Emily would have to leave.

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