The Million Dollar Catch Bundle Read online

  “About eight pages in,” she muttered.

  He flipped through the pages of the publication. There were articles on organic gardening, an essay on surviving cold-and-flu season and a pull-out diagram on how to get the most from your compost.

  Then he saw the small six-panel comic. There were two squash talking about a shoe sale. Judging from the bows on their heads and their high heels, they were girl squash. Okay, then.

  He read the panel and forced himself to chuckle at the end, even though he had no idea what the punch line meant.

  When he’d finished, he said, “That’s great. Is this syndicated?”

  “In a couple of small-town newspapers. The major publications aren’t interested in organic humor.”

  “They’re missing a growing market.”

  Willow eyed him as if trying to figure out if he was patronizing her. He was about to launch into a conversation on the phenomenal growth of the organic market—one of their start-ups was in the business—when Willow and Marina stood.

  “We’ll go get snacks,” Marina said.

  When they’d left, he turned to Julie. “I don’t get it,” he whispered, waving the magazine. “Explain it to me.”

  She leaned close. “I can’t. I don’t get it, either. Maybe you have to be a vegan to understand, I don’t know. For a while I thought maybe Willow’s comics just weren’t funny. But she’s in more and more magazines all the time, so it must be me. Well, and Marina and my mom.”

  “And me,” he said.

  She smiled at him and he grinned back.

  The sisters returned.

  “Mango lemonade,” Willow said, handing him a glass.

  Marina put a plate of cookies on the table.

  Mango lemonade? He took a sip. It wasn’t half-bad.

  Marina and Willow sat back down.

  “Have you ever been married?” Willow asked.

  “No.”

  “Engaged?” This question came from Marina.

  “No.”

  “Any children, other than the one Julie is carrying? And please don’t say ‘not that I know about.’ That just makes guys look stupid.”

  So the grilling had begun. “No other children.”

  They were thorough. They covered everything from his relationship with his mother to asking about his financial situation and whether he paid his taxes on time. Through it all, Julie sat back and watched him, as if judging him by his answers.

  He was good with that. He had nothing to hide. So he answered their questions without stumbling, right up until Willow said, “How could you be so weaselly to lie about who you were with the express purpose of hurting that person?”

  The patio got very quiet.

  He started to say he hadn’t thought Julie would get hurt, but that didn’t sound right. Saying he’d assumed she was incapable of emotion wasn’t smart. He could explain how he’d been hurt badly and why he’d felt the need to get back at someone. Only Julie hadn’t been the one to hurt him. In the end, he went with the truth.

  “I was wrong,” he told Willow. “There’s no excuse for my behavior and I won’t try to make one.”

  Marina and Willow looked at each other, then at Julie. Willow gave a slight shrug.

  He felt that something important had just happened, but he wasn’t sure what. At times, women were a serious mystery.

  “When we were little, Julie was really bossy,” Marina said. “Especially to me.”

  Julie groaned. “I was not bossy at all. However, our mother worked and someone had to be in charge. I was the oldest.”

  Willow leaned toward him. “Bossy. Big time.”

  “I’m ignoring you,” Julie said as she stood and walked around the table so she could pour herself a glass of the mango lemonade. But instead of sitting back in her original chair, she settled in the seat next to his.

  He made the mistake of glancing at her bare feet when she crossed her legs. Dear God—she painted her toes bright pink and wore a toe ring. It was about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  Focus on the plan, he reminded himself. He had a plan to get Julie to marry him. For the sake of the child.

  But right then, the child didn’t seem very real. All Ryan could think about was that he liked Julie and her sisters and that their cozy house was a home in ways his had never been.

  “You didn’t buy this, did you?” Julie asked as Ryan pulled up in front of a massive Beverly Hills estate. The wrought-iron gates swung open, exposing a three-story house, manicured lawns and lawn art. Who owned lawn art?

  “I grew up here.”

  “What?” She stared at him. “You lived here? With your parents? You told me to dress casual. You said we’d probably be getting dusty. I can’t meet your parents looking like this.”

  She was in jeans and a T-shirt she’d been about to toss in her “donate” bag. She hadn’t bothered with makeup or washed her hair.

  “They’re not here,” he said as he parked by the front steps that led to the huge double front door and turned off the car. “They’re in Europe. I brought you here so we could go through the attic. I thought there’d be some stuff there you’d like.”

  Her panic faded. “Oh. Okay. An attic sounds intriguing.” She climbed out of the car and looked around. “Very stylish. Nothing like my house.”

  He moved next to her and unlocked the front door. “I liked your house. It was warm and homey. This place isn’t.”

  They stepped inside and he pushed buttons on a keypad that had been concealed behind a panel. Julie took in the soaring ceilings, the hardwood floors and impressive artwork. Hey, and this was only the entryway.

  “No staff?” she asked.

  “There’s a live-in housekeeper. Today’s her day off. I told her we were stopping by but that she didn’t need to be here. We have the house to ourselves.”

  Ryan led the way up a grand, curving staircase, then along a hallway flanked by bedrooms.

  “So how big is this place?” she asked. “Ten thousand square feet?”

  “I think closer to fifteen.”

  “That’s a lot of vacuuming.”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “It would be a full-time job. I can’t believe your parents own this place and they’re never here.”

  “They like to travel.”

  Julie rubbed the long, smooth banister. “My sisters and I could have had a lot of fun on this thing. Who would need to go to a theme park? You did good with them, by the way. Did I mention that? You nearly won them over.”

  They reached the landing and he looked at her. “I did win them over. There’s no nearly about it.”

  “Cocky, aren’t we?”

  “With cause.”

  Danger signs flashed all around them. She knew better than to be charmed but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The guy was pretty cool.

  At the end of the hallway, they took another, slightly less impressive, staircase to the third floor. Instead of more bedrooms, there were several large, open areas, giving the space a loft-like feel. Windows let in massive amounts of light.

  “I love this,” she murmured. “It makes me wish I was a painter or something creative. Wouldn’t this be a great studio?”

  “Todd and I played up here when we were young. We had the whole floor to ourselves.”

  “Kid heaven.”

  Tucked in the corner was a third set of stairs. These were narrow and steep. Julie followed Ryan up and found herself in a musty attic.

  It was something out of a PBS original movie—with exposed beams, furniture covered with sheets and dusty windows. There were boxes everywhere, along with trunks and hanging racks.

  How was it possible that she and Ryan had grown up less than twenty miles from each other and had lived such different lives? How could this world be real?

  Ryan walked around and pulled off a few sheets. “Todd and I spent a lot of time up here. We dug through nearly everything. Most of it was pretty boring for a couple of boys, but I r
emember…”

  He crossed the dusty wood floor and moved a few boxes, then beckoned her forward.

  “I know how you feel about ultra modern. Is this more your style?”

  He’d promised her a surprise. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it hadn’t been a beautiful carved bassinet.

  She dropped to her knees and sucked in a breath as she touched the smooth finish. Angels and hearts and flowers adorned the piece. It was a little battered, but mostly incredible.

  “Oh, Ryan. It’s stunning.”

  “I’m glad you like it. We can get it refinished or painted or whatever. There’s a matching dresser.” He sat down beside her. “This stuff is maybe a hundred and fifty years old. There’s no changing table, but we could get one made. The same with a crib.”

  “That sounds great. How did you know I would love this?”

  His dark gaze settled on her face. “I just knew.”

  She would have guessed he was the kind of guy to give traditional, expected gifts, but she was wrong—and happy to be so. Not that she would be keeping the pieces. They were family heirlooms. But she would be delighted to use them while the baby was young.

  “You’re unexpectedly thoughtful,” she said. “Thank you. These are amazing.”

  “Good. I’ve been doing some reading online. About babies. They need a lot of stuff.”

  “It is hard to believe something so small needs so many accessories.”

  He leaned against a chest and stretched out his legs in front of him. “Can you feel anything yet?”

  She touched her stomach. “Just faint queasiness. No movement. It’s going to be a couple of months before that.”

  “You’re barely showing.”

  “I have a tummy.” She’d been about to say he should see her naked, but that would lead them to places probably best left unvisited.

  “When are you telling the partners?” he asked.

  “Soon. I have to. There are a lot of details I’m going to have to work out, but I’ll make it work. It’s so strange. Until I found out I was pregnant, my career was the most important part of my life. I lived for work. I was determined to get ahead, no matter what. A baby is really going to mess that up and I can’t seem to mind.”

  “You won’t be making the decisions alone,” he told her. “I’ll be participating. I’m going to be a present parent, Julie. I want to be there for my child.”

  He sounded determined and intense. “I’m good with that,” she said. “We can both interview prospective nannies.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but he grimaced.

  “I had a nanny.”

  As big as the house was, and as much money as his family had, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Yet she was. “Interesting. Was she nice?”

  “I had several and they were all fine. My parents preferred to avoid the hands-on aspect of raising a kid. They took me when they traveled, but we weren’t ever together. I don’t remember them taking me places themselves or sharing meals with me. I had my own suite at the hotel, with my nanny, sometimes Todd, if his folks were along.”

  That was so not the picture of his childhood she’d expected. She’d imagined something far more perfect and loving.

  “Sounds lonely,” she said.

  “Sometimes it was. I did better as I got older and was able to get out on my own. I could meet other kids. Once I was in school, I was safe, except for the summer. We were always flying off somewhere.”

  Julie remembered her childhood summers as long, lazy days spent in the garden. She and her sisters would invent elaborate games that took days to play out.

  “Todd helped,” Ryan continued. “We were there for each other. Like you and your sisters.”

  “They’re important to me,” she agreed.

  “I want more for our baby, Julie. I want our child to know we’re both there, that we both care. I want us to create a family. I want the family I never had.”

  He sounded both determined and painfully sad. She ached for the small boy who’d had so many things and yet so little of what really mattered.

  “I don’t think we can go back and give you that family,” she said. “I know I don’t want to re-create mine. But we can build something new, that works for us.”

  He nodded. “I’d like to try that.” He looked at her. “Does your dad know about the baby yet?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I certainly haven’t told him. If my mom spoke to him recently, then she might have mentioned it.”

  “You don’t like him. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I can’t forgive him,” she admitted. “He hurts her over and over again. I know she has some responsibility in that—she keeps letting him come back. I just wish she would dump him once and for all and find a good guy. But she claims to love him.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “I don’t think love is supposed to hurt that much.”

  He reached out and took her hand. Of course there was the usual array of tingles and tightening and desire. Julie had the feeling she would always experience that when Ryan was around. But there was also something different. Something warm and comforting. As if she could trust him to be there.

  Not likely, she told herself. But it was nice to pretend.

  She shifted so she sat crossed-legged. “I was engaged once,” she said quietly. “His name was Garrett and he was very charming. We met in law school.”

  “I hate him,” Ryan said lightly.

  She smiled. “That is a testament to your excellent taste.” She shrugged. “I keep looking back, trying to figure out where I went wrong and no matter how many times I go over the material, I can’t figure it out. I don’t see what clues I missed. I like to think there weren’t any, but who knows. Anyway, we started dating, we fell in love, or so I thought, we got engaged.”

  She looked at Ryan. “He was already married. His wife, a very sweet young woman, lived back in New Mexico with her family. She was working two jobs to pay for his education. They’d decided it would be cheaper for her to stay with them, while he got a studio apartment here and went to UCLA.”

  Ryan’s hold on her hand tightened slightly. He swore.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she murmured, fighting emotions she didn’t want to feel again. She’d been a fool, it was over, move on. “So we were engaged and planning a post-graduation wedding. The only reason I found out about his wife was that she won the lottery.” Julie managed a smile. “Nothing big—about thirty thousand dollars. But it meant she could move out and be with him and only have to work one job. She showed up without warning. All three of us got a really big shock.”

  Ryan pulled her close. She stiffened, then relaxed into his embrace. She knew her life was better with Garrett out of it, but still, the hug felt good.

  “I don’t know what he planned to do,” she said, her head resting on his shoulder. “Was he going to be a bigamist? Was he going to wait until the last minute to tell me? Was he going to disappear? I don’t know and I didn’t stay long enough to find out. I got the basic facts and I took off.”

  She closed her eyes. “I hated how stupid I felt. Even more than missing him and still loving him, the stupidity of it all killed me. I’d always thought of myself as so smart, and yet he’d fooled me totally.”

  “He was a bastard and a liar. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Yes, well, now you can see why your little stunt might have pushed a button with me. Besides the obvious reasons.”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and shifted so that he could look into her eyes. “I’ve apologized. I think you believe me. So here’s what I want to know—are you ever going to be able to let it go?”

  Interesting question. It all came down to whether or not she wanted to. Was she willing to accept that he’d had momentary bad judgment, that it hadn’t been personal and that if he could take it back, he would? How long did she want him punished?

  “I’m get
ting closer,” she admitted. “A lot closer. But you need to back off on the whole getting-married thing.”

  “Hey, I mentioned it once. And for the record, you seriously overreacted.”

  “Oh, please. It was a terrible way to propose. Besides, once was enough.”

  “You don’t want to get married?”

  She wondered what he was thinking. Was he relieved that she’d refused or had he really meant that they should get married? She wasn’t sure which she wanted it to be.

  “Eventually,” she said. “But because I want to, not out of duty.”

  “A romantic. I never would have guessed.”

  “Not a romantic. I just want to find someone special. The right guy for me.”

  He dropped his hands to her knees. “So what’s he like, this right guy?”

  “I don’t know—I haven’t met him yet.”

  “So you’re available.”

  What? “Are you planning to set me up with one of your friends? Do you have someone in mind?”

  “Of course,” he said as he leaned close. “Someone charming and successful and very good-looking.”

  She could feel his breath on her face. Anticipation swept through her. “Let me guess. Someone we both know?”

  “Uh-huh. Me.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  But he didn’t answer, which was fine with her. Because he kissed her instead.

  Eleven

  Ryan wrapped both arms around her and slowly lowered her to the floor. At the same time, his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that stirred her to her soul. She felt weak and hungry, powerful and on fire. Her body ached for possession and her heart wanted to open and accept this man inside.

  Only her brain wasn’t sure if, after all this time, he could be trusted. Still, right now Julie was far less concerned about trust than feeling his hard body pressed against hers. Sometimes, you just had to go with the moment.

  His tongue swept leisurely through her mouth, teasing, exploring, exciting. He lowered one hand to her hip and slid his palm across the slight swell of her belly before climbing higher. Her muscles clenched in anticipation of him touching her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat until the weight of his palm settled on her curves.