“W-what? Why?” Lainey asked.
“Because,” Brad retorted heavily, his guilt apparent, “Petey’s already been through far too much lately and it’s the only way I know to protect you.”
Lainey blinked and slid off his lap, onto the seat of the glider. “By sending us away?” she echoed hoarsely. Impossible, how much that hurt.
Brad caught her wrist before she could bolt. His voice was low, intense. “Suppose Bunny is telling the truth and she didn’t send that photographer. Then that means he’s not after you and whatever dirt he can dig up—he’s after me.” The haunted look was back in Brad’s eyes. “The last thing Petey needs to see is his mother on the cover of a tabloid.”
Lainey agreed with that portion of Brad’s assessment. Her brief experience as a journalist told her something else about the rest. “I don’t think the photographer was from a tabloid. A tabloid would have published the photos of us last week, particularly in light of what that New York City newspaper gossip column published. Tabloids don’t necessarily wait to get a whole story—they go with whatever they’ve got. Speed and scooping all other news outlets via actual photos of whatever is going on is the priority.”
Brad frowned. “You think he’s freelance?”
“Maybe.” Lainey savored the warmth and tenderness of the hand encircling her wrist. She moved her hand so her fingers were meshed with his. “If that tourist guy had no legitimate connections, he was just trying to get different pictures of us to sell to lots of places…and that might take a little longer.”
Brad slouched against the back of the glider as he considered that. “And if he’s not?”
“Then I don’t know who he is or why he was here unless he’s just someone who is plain nosy and wants something to show his friends. In any case, the revelation of our relationship with each other is going to be news….”
He shook his head. “Not if it doesn’t come out until interest in me dies down.”
Ignoring the feel of his rock-hard thigh pressed up against hers, she looked down at their clasped hands, then back at him. “What are you saying?”
Brad swallowed. He seemed to know she wasn’t going to like what came next. “This afternoon I was ready to come clean, go to the press like you suggested, tell my story, and let the dust settle once and for all. But I realize now that speaking out at this point would only generate a whole new wave of public interest in me, and I can’t subject Petey—or you—to that, Lainey.”
His mind was clearly made up. “So you’re breaking up with me?” She did her best to contain her broken heart. Realizing she was suddenly doubting Brad and his feelings for her, when up until now she’d had absolutely no reason to, she stood and moved to the edge of the porch. Her back to him, she looked out at the broad expanse of the Texas night sky. The summer night was clear and warm. A half moon nestled in the stars winking overhead.
“No.” He crossed to her side and drew her into his embrace. “Just putting what we feel for each other under wraps for a while.” He stroked a soothing hand down her spine. “We’ll still see each other.”
“Just not in public.” She sighed. “Not where anyone can find out about it.”
Brad’s mood was as pensive as her own. “Right.”
Lainey was silent. She knew it wasn’t what Brad was saying, but it felt like he was ashamed of her…and that was devastating. Hadn’t she promised herself when she was with Chip that she would never put herself in that situation again? She swallowed, did her best to respond with maturity and grace.
“I see.”
“Do you?” Brad asked gently, his gaze lovingly roving over her. He slid both hands through her hair, lifting her face up to his. His heated glance drifted lower and he massaged her shoulders tenderly. “’Cause I don’t think you do. What I am trying to tell you here—” he paused to reassure her with another long, direct glance “—is that I want us to be together over the long haul. But to make that happen, we’re going to have to protect what we have and keep it secret.”
THE ONLY GOOD THING about Brad’s sending Lainey and Petey back to Dallas was that she had the time—and space necessary—to honor her promise to her old college roommate well within the required publishing deadline.
Sybil called her Tuesday evening. “I got the article you e-mailed me.”
Lainey braced herself for what she knew had to be coming next.
“There’s nothing in it about Brad McCabe.”
Lainey sighed, glad Petey was already in bed. “Right.”
“Nor do you tell why Brad dumped Yvonne,” Sybil continued, sounding even more displeased.
Lainey winced. “Right again.”
Another pause. Sybil, sounding more boss than friend, continued calmly. “Did you misunderstand what I asked you to do?”
No. Lainey hadn’t. She had known exactly what kind of salacious, groundbreaking, cover-level story Sybil wanted out of her. That was the hell of it. Lainey gathered her professionalism around her like a protective cloak. She knew the work she had done on Yvonne—and even Gil Hewitt—was good. She had to concentrate on that and feel proud of it, while at the same time owning up to her own shortcomings. “I can’t write about Brad McCabe with any objectivity. I thought I could. But I can’t.” So she hadn’t. Problem solved. Sort of, anyway.
Sybil let out a short, impatient breath. “That sweet-talking Casanova got to you, didn’t he.”
Lainey told herself Brad’s womanizing days were over. Not that they had ever existed beyond his desire not to get emotionally involved with someone he wasn’t cut out to be partnered with for life. “What do you mean?”
Sybil scoffed, as blunt and straight-talking as ever. “Brad McCabe has a reputation for making women lose their head, and obviously he’s made you lose yours!”
Lainey knew she was in love with Brad. But it wasn’t like that. Brad hadn’t used her any more than she had used him. It was just a tough situation, that was all. One Lainey was determined to extricate herself from sooner rather than later. “I never should have signed up to write about someone I knew as a kid,” she said, excoriating herself honestly. “It’s an insurmountable conflict of interest.”
“It’s also your big chance to catapult yourself into the big-time. Or have you forgotten how much you’ve always wanted to be a journalist?” Sybil demanded, practical as ever.
Lainey wanted to be loved and cared for more—her relationship with Brad held the promise of that.
“You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you,” Sybil pressed, beginning to sound a little angry now.
Lainey didn’t want to lie to her old friend, so she said nothing.
“He found out what you’re up to and—”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Lainey corrected.
Sybil made a low, dissenting sound. “I wouldn’t bet on that. From what I’ve heard, Brad McCabe is one smart cookie.”
Lainey ran her hands through her hair. “Smart. Dumb. Who cares?”
“Personalities readers care. They want to know what happened to make TV’s sexiest bachelor go berserk and dump a very sweet and loving girl!”
“As the article I sent you attests,” Lainey countered tightly, “Yvonne is anything but sweet and loving.”
“I don’t care what the other girls or even Gil Hewitt had to say. I want to know when and how and where did Brad find that out? I’m presuming, of course, that is the reason he broke up with her.”
“I can’t tell you that,” Lainey said. She rubbed at the headache starting in her temples.
“Lainey, as it is,” Sybil explained patiently, “I cannot—I will not—publish this article. There is very little in it that hasn’t been either printed or speculated about before. We’re looking for a great big scoop, not a guessing game and a re-hash.”
She sighed, beginning to feel like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders once again. “It’s the best I can do.”
“Well, it’s not good enough. You still have another forty-eight hours before deadline. There’s still time—”
“I’ve had all the time I need,” Lainey interrupted firmly.
“Please don’t do this,” her friend begged. “Do I need to remind you that you threw away any chance at a career for yourself when you hooked up with Chip? Lainey, honey, I can’t bear to see you doing the same thing again!”
“Bear it or not, it’s what I have to do,” she said. “I’m sorry, Sybil. I know I let you down. Thank you for the opportunity, anyway.” And she hung up the phone.
“I DIDN’T THINK STAYING AWAY from each other was going to be this hard,” Brad said, four days later.
Lainey walked into the conference room at McCabe Computer Games testing facility in Laramie. Petey was there to evaluate the latest changes in the computer game he had been testing all summer. Lainey was there to see Brad. She went into his arms, glad Lewis had thoughtfully provided the two of them with a conference room where they could talk privately, without having to worry about being caught by someone with a telephoto lens.
“Although—” Brad drew back after a lengthy hello kiss, then another, and another “—you look like you are faring much better than I am in this situation. You look—” he studied her tenderly “—like a huge burden has been lifted from your shoulders.”
“It has been.”
Lainey smiled at him, feeling a little less sure now.
Nevertheless, she knew what she had to do—tell him everything and then see where they stood, if he was as capable of forgiving her as she deemed him to be. She couldn’t go on hiding something this important from him. It was too much to bear. And she needed to make certain that, unlike Chip, Brad could accept that Lainey was not perfect. She made mistakes. Occasionally took a wrong turn. Or made a wrong choice. That didn’t mean she was a bad person. Just human. Fallible. Ready and willing to learn from her mistakes and move on.
Lainey was in the market for unconditional love now.
Not a love that hinged on her looking and behaving a certain way, and only that way.
She wanted a love that let her feel free to be.
She wanted Petey growing up the same way.
“How are things with the in-laws?” Brad asked gently.
“Better than you could imagine.” She sat down on the edge of the conference table, braced herself and looked up at him. “Bunny’s decided to hand over the dispersing of the trust funds to one of the attorneys who drew it up.”
“She can do that?”
Lainey nodded. “Chip had a provision built in, in case something ever happened to Bunny or she felt it was too much to handle. She and Bart talked it over and decided it would be best to have the trust administered by a third party from now on.”
“That certainly sounds a lot less stressful for you,” he said.
She nodded. “Claire set up a meeting. We all talked at length about my situation yesterday and agreed it would be best to sell our house in Highland Park. I can use the proceeds to resettle in Laramie.”
“How does Petey feel about that?”
“He’s as ready for change as I am—although,” Lainey conceded, smiling ruefully, “he’d prefer to live on a ranch, rather than in town. But I told him he can visit his friends who do live on ranches, so he’s happy about that. In the meantime, I’m going to open my own professional organizing business, and probably do some freelance writing on the side, too.” She wanted to start living on what she made, and let the money Chip left them be for Petey’s education, and any emergencies that came up.
“I didn’t know you wanted to be a writer,” he said.
She studied the hem of her cotton skirt, where it rode up above her knee. It was time to confess all. Her stomach fluttered with a thousand butterflies as she admitted softly, honestly, “For a long time now.”
“Because of what happened to your dad?”
Lainey nodded. “The truth is important. Reporters have the ability to keep things honest and aboveboard.”
“When it’s done correctly,” Brad stipulated.
“Right.” Unfortunately, that was a lesson she had learned a little too late when it came to Brad. “Anyway, I studied journalism in college and worked on the Tech newspaper before I dropped out to get married.”
Brad looked impressed with her accomplishments, yet wary of her profession. “You know reporters aren’t my favorite people these days,” he teased, “but I guess I could change my mind about that, if you become one again.”
“I hope so,” she said. She gripped the table edge on either side of her, her nerves beginning to get the better of her.
“I know so.” He smiled and sat down on the edge of the table next to her. “Because you’d never be the kind of vulture that’s been after me since I went on TV.”
Guilt swept through Lainey, followed by uncertainty. Was this the time to tell him everything? How could she not?
“Lewis and I’ve been doing some rearranging, too,” Brad said.
Lainey winced, recalling the six boxes she had yet to unpack that were stacked up in the utility room, taking up all the available space. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not quite finished organizing everything there yet.” She’d left in such a hurry, at Brad’s behest, that she hadn’t had time to complete her tasks. “But I promise I’ll get to it as soon as you think it’s okay for me to come back out to the Lazy M.”
“Well,” Brad drawled, smiling broadly, looking like he had a secret now, “that all depends.”
“On?” Lainey queried.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. “How fast I can get you to say yes to the idea of marrying me.”
LAINEY STARED at Brad, stunned speechless. Her reaction wasn’t the one he had been hoping for. Brad gulped and rushed on, telling her all that was in his heart.
“I know it sounds sudden,” he said softly as he guided her to her feet and into his arms. “And I guess in some respects it is.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes. “But I know you’re the woman I’ve been waiting my whole life to meet. And I want you—and Petey—with me. The only way we can do that in a respectful manner is by making a true and lasting commitment and marrying each other. So…Lainey, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
In place of the jubilant “yes” and kiss he had been expecting, tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Brad…” she murmured, seeming distraught.
To his dismay, she looked like she wished he hadn’t asked.
She splayed her fingers across his shirtfront, his only solace the fact that she did not move away. “If you only knew how much I want to say yes. But I—I need to talk to you about something else—something important—before we discuss that.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, once again bracing for the worst.
Before she could get another word out, the door to the conference room was flung open. Lewis rushed in so quickly he was practically tripping over his own feet. He had a rolled-up magazine in his hand. He looked at Brad, Lainey, then back at Brad again. “Oh, man!” Lewis said.
Brad glared at his younger brother. “You know, Lewis, sometimes your timing really—”
“Bites. I know.” Lewis swallowed hard and shut the door behind them. “Listen, I really don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but…you know how I set up that search engine on my computer for stuff about you when you first went on Bachelor Bliss?”
Like they needed to be talking about the parameters of Lewis’s computer now? “Yes,” Brad said patiently, knowing it would be faster to just let Lewis say what he had to say than try to shoo him out.
“Well, it still pulls stuff up every time I get on the Internet,” Lewis explained.
“Terrific,” Brad muttered, even more irritated when he noticed that Lainey looked upset.
The last thing he needed was Lewis spoiling an already going-downhill-fast mood. “I really don’t care what they’ve written about me,” he informed his brother tersely. He sent Lewis a look telling him to leave. Now.
“You will care,” Lewis countered, just as firmly.
Lainey extricated herself from Brad’s arms and moved away.
“Especially when you find out who wrote it,” Lewis explained.
Doing his best not to deck his frustrating younger brother, Brad grimaced. “What are you talking about?”
Lewis thrust the magazine at him. “This.”
Brad unrolled it. He was not pleased to see it was a copy of Personalities Magazine. He swiftly became even less thrilled. On the front cover was a photo of Lainey and Brad in the grocery store. Next to it was a photo of Brad and Yvonne. Below that was a grainy photo of Lainey and Brad kissing, at dusk, on the front porch of the Lazy M guest house. Brad swore at the intrusion into his privacy.
“How did the people at Personalities know about us?” he wondered out loud.
“I don’t know,” Lainey retorted, turning ever paler.
For some reason, Brad noted, Lewis was now staring at Lainey with a peculiar mixture of disbelief and pity.
Which made Brad hope and pray like crazy that the photographer hadn’t gotten a picture of him and Lainey in his bed. Brad wouldn’t put Lainey through that kind of embarrassment for the world. One thing was certain: Lewis was acting very peculiar. So was Lainey. It was almost as if they already knew something he didn’t.
“The story’s on page sixty-seven,” Lewis said, already making his way to the exit. Hand on the doorknob, Lewis looked at Lainey. “And boy, oh boy, oh boy, do you ever have some explaining to do.”
Lewis left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Brad looked at Lainey. She was now trembling.
“What’s he talking about?” Brad demanded.
“Only one way to find out.” Lainey snatched the magazine out of his hands and thumbed quickly through the glossy pages until she reached the aforementioned page. She opened it up all the way, so they could both see. The title was written in bold red letters: “Yvonne’s Secret Tryst!”
Just below that were the names of the coauthors of the article—Lainey Carrington and Sybil Devine.
Brad stared at it. Read it again. And then again.
Lainey was staring as if she had seen a ghost. She looked as if she might faint, and sat down abruptly in the nearest chair.
Wondering if it was possible—if there was another Lainey Carrington other than the woman he’d been trading secrets and kisses with—Brad moved so he could see more of what was on the page. “Tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that,” he ordered grimly.
Lainey buried her face in her hands. “Unfortunately,” she said reluctantly, “I can’t.”
For the second time in under four months, Brad’s world came crashing down around him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I did. And then—” Lainey shrugged helplessly “—I didn’t.”
Brad’s jaw clenched. “Lewis was right. Boy, do you ever have some explaining to do.”
FEELING THE BLOOD DRAINING from her face, Lainey tore her gaze from Brad’s angry expression and quickly skimmed the article. To her dismay, it was all there, even the parts about Brad and his rendition of events that she had carefully omitted from the story she had written on Yvonne and the Bachelor Bliss reality TV show.
Aware Sybil had obviously finished the job Lainey had set out to do, she grasped the arms of the chair.
She had to stay calm. Brad loved her. Didn’t he? Belatedly, she realized he had never once said the words. He had, however, just asked her to marry him. To commit to a life with him forever. That had to mean something, even under circumstances like these. She swallowed the ache in her throat and met his eyes, determined to do whatever was necessary to make this come out right. “I told you I always wanted to write.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. He stared at Lainey, a force not to be denied. Her hot-blooded lover had vanished and in his place appeared a cowboy who always rode away alone.
“You were out at the ranch for two weeks. You never once mentioned you were a reporter.”
“That’s because I’m not, at least not officially. But when my old friend Sybil called me up and asked me to help locate you, and then do an article for Personalities—”
“You agreed.”
“No. Not just like that,” Lainey said with difficulty, aware he had every right to be angry with her.
“Well, at some point you sold out.”
Desperate to salvage their relationship, she defended herself hotly. “I didn’t even expect you to be at the Lazy M Ranch when I stopped by!” With effort she lowered her voice to a more manageable level. “I wanted to talk to Lewis about putting Petey in the game-testing program at his company. And then Lewis asked me to help him get organized—and you walked in. And you sort of taunted me, and the next thing I knew, I said I was going to do it.”
He looked at her, sadder and even more disillusioned than before. “And then you conveniently spied on me and pumped me for info, all the while knowing you were going to betray me in the end,” he said bitterly.
“I couldn’t go back—I had given my word and already signed a contract!”
“So you betrayed me, without batting an eye.”
Lainey went toward him, arms outstretched. “Listen to me, Brad. I agonized over the situation I put us both in, and I didn’t write anything about you in the article I turned in.”
He pivoted away from her. “And what about the rest of it—the tourist with the telephoto lens on his camera?” He gave her a hard, assessing look.
“I swear to you that I did not know the two of us were being photographed by Personalities.” But that was, Lainey admitted to herself, obviously what had happened. Lainey’s sister-in-law hadn’t been having her spied on—her editor had!
“Kind of damages your rep, doesn’t it, becoming part of the story like that,” he observed.
Lainey didn’t care about that. She only cared about Brad and how this was likely to affect him. Obviously, it had made him even more cynical and bitter, which was the last thing she had ever wanted. “I didn’t tell anyone Yvonne cheated on you,” she reiterated evenly.
Brad folded his arms and looked her up and down contemptuously. “Then how did they know I found Yvonne in bed with Gil Hewitt fifteen minutes before the final show was taped?”
Lainey took a careful look at the quotes in the magazine article. Quickly, she put it all together. “Obviously, Sybil got it out of Yvonne. Probably by pretending you had already told all and asking Yvonne if she wanted to tell her side of things.” Lainey tapped the pages of the magazine. “Look, it says right here that Yvonne readily admits she only got involved with Gil Hewitt because she knew you weren’t really in love with her. She even confesses there was no other woman for you, at that time, that she knew about.” Bless Sybil for that much, Lainey thought. “So at least your name has finally been cleared.”
Unfortunately, Brad did not look nearly as relieved about that as Lainey had hoped. “Yours, on the other hand, is mud,” he pointed out sarcastically. “Since it says here the reason you had to recuse yourself from the article mid-writing was that you became personally involved with me.”
Lainey took another look at the photos, of herself and Brad. No denying the intimacy between them.
“I never told anyone that,” she said emotionally. She gazed at Brad, embarrassed, miserable. “Sybil must have figured it out on her own.”
Brad stood. “So how does it feel to be betrayed by someone you thought was your friend?”
Lainey swallowed at the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Not good.”
“At least we’re clear on that much.” Brad pushed past her and headed for the door.
Lainey moved quickly, barring his way. The happiness they’d once shared now seemed a million miles away. “I’m so sorry. I tried to tell you…”
He scorched her with a look. “Not hard enough, obviously.”
Lainey swallowed as her knees began to shake. If only she had leveled with him much sooner! Shoring up her courage, she tried again. “I know I made a mistake, even agreeing to write the article about Yvonne, but once I had signed the contract I had to follow through.”
Brad grunted in contempt. “Your responsibility to tell me or Lewis what you were up to be damned?”
Lainey drew another breath, searched his face. There was so much more she wanted to say but she could see it was pointless. She had wounded his already badly damaged McCabe pride. “You’re not going to forgive me for this, are you,” she said sadly.
The old cynicism was back in Brad’s eyes, more potent than ever before. He leaned in closer, until they stood toe to toe, nose to nose. “Now you’ve got a clue.”