Simply Scandalous Read online

  Catherine crumpled the paper and tossed it on the bed. “I can’t read any more of this trash.”

  “Oh my God, you’ve fallen in love with him.” Kayla eyed her through narrowed eyes.

  Catherine shook her head. No way she’d admit those feelings, not even to herself. She couldn’t leave herself that exposed, open, raw…“What am I going to do?” she wailed and tossed herself across the foot of Kayla’s bed.

  “You could start by cleaning yourself up.”

  Catherine rolled over and glared at her brother-in-law who stood in the doorway.

  “Go away,” the sisters said at the same time.

  “You know you only say that when she’s around,” he said to his wife.

  Catherine grinned. “At least I make you suffer, too, McDermott.”

  “Before you two get started, can I get a word in edgewise?” Kayla asked.

  Catherine sighed. She’d met Kane right after he’d slept with and used her sister. At least that’s what Catherine had believed, and though Kane had proven himself since, the sparring and bickering from the early days remained a part of their relationship. Catherine held a grudging respect for the detective, stemming from his devotion to her sister, though she’d never admit it aloud.

  “Go ahead,” Catherine said to her sister.

  Kayla turned to her husband. “Cat needs a place to think…”

  “I do?”

  “And she’s going to be staying here until she settles some things.”

  “She is?” Kane asked. From the narrowing of his eyes, the thought didn’t please him.

  Catherine grinned. “I am,” she said and folded her arms across her chest. Until Kayla said the words, Catherine hadn’t realized how badly she needed her sister’s advice or how much she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts.

  She glanced at Kayla, tucked safely under the covers, her large stomach protruding through the sheet. She was due in a matter of weeks and there was no place else Catherine wanted to be when the baby came.

  Kane walked over to his wife’s side. “Don’t you have work at home?” he asked Catherine.

  “I can drive home, get the books and play catch up from here. No parties until next weekend. Our new manager is handling Saturday’s affair. I’ve got Sunday. So it looks like I’m here to stay.”

  “Swell,” he muttered only to be greeted by Kayla’s elbow in his side. “I mean, make yourself at home. But no redecorating while you’re here.”

  “A man who doesn’t like animal prints has a fundamental problem relating to life,” Catherine told him. “They add warmth…”

  “That’s what live pets are for,” Kane muttered.

  “All my accessories are fake. I’m a strong believer in animal rights. But if it’s a pet you want, I can stop by the pound…”

  “I’m leaving,” he said to both sisters.

  Catherine grinned. “That was the plan. But seriously, Kane, thanks for the place to stay.”

  “You’re welcome.” He graced Catherine with a genuine smile.

  “I appreciate it. I could really use the company.”

  “Stay as long as you want. Just keep out of my way.”

  “He doesn’t mean that,” Kayla assured her.

  “Sure I do, sweetheart…when I’m alone with you,” he said in a deeper tone, one a husband reserved for his wife.

  To Catherine’s surprise, a pang of envy darted through her heart. She’d spent a lot of time with Kayla and Kane, happily married couple. Through Thanksgiving, Christmas and other assorted holidays, Catherine had felt joy her sister had found love, and acceptance despite Kane’s outwardly surly attitude. But she’d never envied what Kayla and Kane shared. Never thought she wanted it for herself.

  Until now.

  Until Logan.

  Hampshire’s favorite man.

  The delectable bachelor destined to marry wealthy and within his class, she thought, recalling the final words of the article. The words she couldn’t bear to read aloud.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LUNCHTIME ON MONDAY, Logan stood at a pay phone in the courthouse. From the minute he’d gotten into the office this morning, his boss had had him at his beck and call, covering an important case for a hospitalized co-worker, when the judge refused to grant a postponement.

  He dropped in money, dialed Catherine’s phone number in the city and listened to the incessant ringing before the answering machine picked up. He muttered a curse. His only break for the day that would give him free time away from the client, and Catherine wasn’t there.

  “Montgomery, Judge wants you in his chambers. Seems your client’s causing trouble again,” the bailiff called from across the hall.

  Logan groaned, slammed the receiver down and with a regretful glance at the phone, he ran down the hall.

  Sometimes priorities sucked, he thought.

  HIDING OUT WASN’T SMART. It didn’t say much for her ability to cope. But then, Catherine didn’t want to cope. She wanted to forget. That she’d slept with Logan. And that he hadn’t called.

  She’d arrived at Kayla’s on Sunday and today was Tuesday. So what if she hadn’t told him where to reach her? He was a lawyer. A smart guy. If he’d wanted to find her, he could. Easily.

  As much as she’d told herself not to expect anything, that she didn’t want anything, his silence hurt anyway. Because despite all the truths Catherine knew in her mind, her heart wanted to believe she was different, special. Not just a cheap and easy fling.

  She wanted to forget, and catering to her pregnant sister would help her do just that.

  Plus, it would allow Kane to leave the house without worrying that he’d left Kayla alone. It was the least she could do in exchange for invading his space and their privacy. She carried a tray of food upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door.

  “If it’s more muffins, I’m stuffed.”

  “Cinnamon French toast,” she called back and kicked open the door with the toe of her foot.

  Kayla propped herself up in bed.

  “I made it just the way you like. A few raisins, a touch of low calorie syrup…”

  “Cat, sit down.”

  After placing the tray on the dresser, she joined her sister. “I’m sitting. What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” She glanced at Kayla’s stomach and was rewarded by a jolt of movement under the sheet. “Active little guy.”

  “Or girl. Listen to me. About all this…food.”

  “I’ve been cleaning the kitchen, I swear. And I’m freezing the casseroles. You and Kane will have enough food to get you through the…”

  “The first decade of this child’s life. Catherine, slow it down. I know you better than anyone. You only cook like a demon when you’re upset. It’s been two days and you haven’t mentioned him but you’ve barely left the kitchen.”

  “Him who?” she asked, avoiding her sister’s gaze.

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.” She patted her stomach. “And worrying about you is stressful. Now stop playing dumb and tell me what gives.”

  Trust Kayla to hit her in the heart. Catherine eased herself down on the bed. “Remember when we were kids? And Christmas came? All the kids on the block got tons of gifts. Even if it was a used bike or a hand-me-down doll, they got wrapped gifts under the tree and Santa came.”

  “But not for us,” Kayla said softly.

  “Right. How many birthday wishes and Christmas lists did I waste asking for my daddy to come home?”

  “I’m not sure. You never said it out loud. You swore it never bothered you the way it bothered me. And I should have sensed that it did.”

  Catherine shook her head. “There you go again, taking responsibility for things you can’t control. If I didn’t admit it, I didn’t want you to know.”

  As she met her sister’s gaze, Kayla motioned for her to continue.

  Catherine bit her lip. “It took me a while, but after the first couple of years, I caught on. He wasn’t coming back…and I
stopped believing.”

  “In more than just Santa Claus,” Kayla said.

  Catherine nodded. “And then I met Logan. I knew we were from different worlds. I knew I was just an interesting diversion. And yet…” To her horror, tears filled her eyes and she brushed them away with the back of her hand.

  “You believed in him.”

  She nodded.

  “Then don’t you think you should have given him your home address? Your phone number?”

  “I know this sounds awful but I think…I thought if he had to work at it, I’d know he was sincere. It wasn’t difficult. His grandmother knows exactly how to reach me.”

  “Have you called your machine?”

  Every hour on the hour. “Yes. And nothing. Besides, he dropped me off here. At the very least he knows how to find you.” She shook her head and dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. “Forget about it.”

  “He could just be busy with work.”

  On call three nights a week and one weekend a month… “It doesn’t take long to make a phone call.” To find out where to pick her up on Friday. For the date that wasn’t going to happen.

  The ring of the doorbell cut off her train of thought. “Expecting company?” she asked her sister.

  “Could be Kane’s boss’s wife. I mean, old boss. He retired last year. She stops by every week with…more food,” Kayla said with a groan.

  “I’ll get it. Just remember, no one cooks like me.” Catherine forced humor and lightness into her voice as she walked out of the bedroom and headed for the door.

  If Catherine was going to stay, she needed to give her sister support and not stress. Neither one of the sisters knew how to turn off their motherly instincts toward the other. They were too deeply ingrained for too many years.

  On the other side of the door was a delivery man and not the captain’s wife as Kayla had predicted.

  “Delivery for Catherine Luck.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That’s strange.”

  He shrugged. “Are you her? I need a signature.”

  Catherine scrawled her name and accepted the small box covered in plain brown paper wrap. Turning the square box over, she found the return address, written in an unfamiliar scrawl.

  She’d never seen his handwriting, she realized. How many other things didn’t she know about Logan Montgomery? Too many. And yet the small box that fit into her hand filled those gaps until they didn’t seem to matter.

  As she tore into the paper, Catherine hoped with everything in her that it wasn’t an illusion.

  LOGAN TOSSED HIS KEYS onto the metal desk, kicked aside the garbage can and unloaded armfuls of folders onto the floor. His desk was piled high with files and paperwork that ought to keep him busy straight through next year. He muttered a curse. Add to that Tuesday night calendar where he represented whatever case came onto the docket, and the result had been no time to himself.

  Zero time to sleep…or to get in touch with Cat, though he’d continued to try. Having gotten her number from Emma, he’d called her during court breaks, but he’d gotten her machine each time. After the closeness they’d shared, what he had to say couldn’t be summed up in sixty seconds, and that was all the time he’d had, considering he’d been handed this case cold on Monday morning.

  The burning desire to see her again was all-encompassing. Everything about her appealed to him. Her allure…her uncertainty.

  He’d promised to call her “soon.” That was Saturday. He’d dropped her off on Sunday. And here it was Tuesday night. He rubbed a hand over his burning eyes and picked up the phone. He dialed, it rang and the machine picked up yet again.

  He hung up the receiver. “Son of a…”

  And got hit in the head. “Didn’t I bring you up better than to curse like that?” his grandmother asked.

  He stared at the open door she’d barged through without warning. “And didn’t Emily Post teach you to knock?”

  “Why should I? Door’s open.”

  He hung up the phone, rose and walked around his desk. “Good to see you, Gran. You’re always welcome. You know that.” He kissed her weathered cheek, wondering why she would show up at his office at this hour of the night.

  “Of course I do. But it wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t. We need to talk.” The gleam in her eyes intrigued him as much as it disturbed. She was up to something again.

  “How’d you get here?” he asked.

  She let out a long-suffering sigh. “I let Ralph drive me. Though I still say that DMV person was wrong and I am not a hazard on the road.” She sniffed.

  He’d never let her know that after she’d backed over her prized roses in the driveway, he’d pulled strings to make sure she had an eye exam and didn’t get her license renewed. He wanted her to live as long as possible. “Well, I’m glad you were prudent anyway,” he said, knowing she still snuck a drive or two when she could get away with it.

  “Like I had a choice. Your father would call the cops on me. His own mother. Imagine that.”

  “Imagine.” He grinned. “I have to call Cat first and then we can talk.”

  She glanced warily at the phone. “Talk first. Call later,” she said, sounding panicked. “I haven’t eaten. Let’s go to that fancy place downstairs.”

  “That fancy place is a bar.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s go.” She yanked his arm. For a frail-looking woman, she had almost superhuman strength. Although he could argue with her, he had no desire to make his first call to Catherine with an audience present and he knew damn well he’d never get Emma to wait outside. Better to feed her and send her on her way. Then he’d call Catherine and leave a message if he had to.

  He managed to grab his folders and stuff them into his briefcase before she herded him out the door. Five minutes later, he and his grandmother were seated in a sports bar in the same building as his office.

  “Want to see a menu?” he asked her, calling the waitress over at the same time.

  She shook her head. Not a strand of white hair fell from her perfect bun. She hadn’t changed since he was a kid. And he loved her for it, even if there were times—like now—when she confounded him.

  “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Beer, and I thought you hadn’t eaten.”

  She fidgeted in her seat. “I lost my appetite.”

  “Two beers,” he said to the waitress.

  “Be right back.”

  Logan leaned back in his seat and glanced around the crowded bar. “Okay, you’ve got me in a public place where I can’t make a scene. What’s going on?”

  “You are good.”

  The waitress returned and placed two bottles and their glasses down onto the table.

  “I’ll take mine straight up,” Emma said.

  He swallowed a laugh.

  “You might want to do the same.”

  His urge to laugh ceased as he digested her warning. He handed her one bottle, grabbed the other for himself and took a large gulp, refusing to comment when she did the same. The sight was absurd but no doubt that was her intention. Get him in a public place, keep him off guard and drop her bomb, whatever it was.

  The cold, wet brew didn’t ease the dryness in his mouth. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “What? I can’t stop by to visit my favorite grandson?”

  “I’m your only grandson. Now talk.”

  She sighed. “You’re working hard?” she asked.

  “It’s been a hectic week.”

  “And it’s barely begun. No time for play?” she asked.

  “You keeping tabs on me, Gran?”

  “I have to hunt you down at your office at ten o’clock…it speaks for itself.” She tilted her head to the side. “The women in your life can’t be too understanding if you’re so out of touch.”

  There are no women in my life, he almost said. It was his standard response to Emma’s not-so-subtle prying. But he caught himself because they both knew, this t
ime, it would be a lie.

  As much as he valued his privacy, he wouldn’t mind unloading on Emma. She understood him better than anyone else and already knew he was interested in Cat. More importantly, she liked Cat, too.

  He leaned forward. “I’m not sure how she feels about me right now. I haven’t been able to reach her.”

  “Haven’t had time, you mean.” Emma made a chiding, clucking sound with her tongue. “You know what they say about all work and no play. You ought to go find Catherine and have a good time with her. Relieve some of that tension you’re carrying around with you.”

  He had no patience for her prying, or the way she spoke of Cat as if she meant nothing more to him than a good time in bed. He shook his head. “You cut that out now,” he warned his grandmother.

  She clapped her weathered hands together. “Thank goodness.”

  “Thank goodness what? Someone other than the judge is finally censoring your language?”

  “Logan, I raised you, I love you, but you can be thick as a milkshake sometimes. Thank goodness you’re looking out for Catherine. If you don’t let me talk like that about her, I picked right and it’s finally happened.”

  “Your train of thought boggles the mind,” he muttered. “But I’ll bite. What’s finally happened?”

  “You’ve fallen hard. I knew you would. Now here’s the plan.” She talked fast, probably before he could interrupt. “When I realized you were tied up for two days, I took a few liberties.”

  He shook his head. She was a whirlwind and, right now, his life was caught dead smack in the middle. “Which reminds me. We still haven’t talked about the closet incident.”

  “Oh, I thought you and Catherine already taught me a lesson,” she muttered.

  “So you didn’t like being on the receiving end, did you? Now listen and understand. Much as I appreciate your intentions, your…meddling can’t go on. I’m thirty-one years old, Gran. Would you take it personally if I said butt out?”

  “Of course not. But it’s too late for that. You need the scoop and I’m here to give it to you.”