Caitlin's Hero (3 page)

That realisation forced her to think rationally again. Caitlin focused on quickly drying and dressing. She was running late and Riley would be waiting for her. As she looked down at herself, now dressed in her favourite chocolate-brown tracksuit, her uncontrollable mind recalled the melted chocolate image and began to head off down that path again. She roughly dragged the brush through her hair in the hope that maybe pain would curtail her errant thoughts.

“Stop it!” she said aloud, directing the firm voice at her
reflection
in the mirror. As she headed towards the door, a little, panicky thought entered her mind. There was the possibility
he
might still be out there.

Taking a deep breath, she put her head down and crept outside.

Riley was waiting impatiently for her as he kicked at the brick wall with the toes of his new runners.

“C’mon, sis, I don’t wanna be late for school again, and I need something to eat,” her young brother grumbled at her.

Caitlin’s response was out
of her mouth
before she could stop herself. “Stop that, Riley. You’ll wear out your new shoes and you know we can’t afford another pair just yet.”

Caitlin could have kicked herself with those shoes. It wasn’t his fault he was growing so fast. She was becoming a huge grouch, always nagging at him. He was such a good brother, never causing any real trouble. She would have to think before she spoke or acted.

Riley just bent down and picked up his bag, shoulders slumped, as he headed towards the exit.

Riley Walters was a tall boy for his eleven years. He had red hair and green eyes, the same as his half-sister.
T
hey were brother and sister—
i
t didn’t matter that Cate’s dad hadn’t been his dad. Riley had always known his father had loved her just as much as he’d loved Riley.

Riley felt bad for Cate. She had given up so much to look after him because of that accident. He tried not to think about it. He knew it was hard for her, too. Harder, even. He wished he could stop being stupid and upsetting her.

He loved swimming and squad training, but he always felt guilty at the extra strain it caused. It wasn’t just the money, but the early morning starts as well. When he was older he’d be able to get himself to training so Cate could sleep in. It was especially hard for her if he had a swimming carnival or trial early on Saturday mornings, because she finished her singing gig so late on Friday nights. Still, Riley knew that his sister would be up and cheering him on every single time. It made him so proud when he could win and repay her faith in him.

Riley tried hard at school too, hoping that one day he could get a good job so his sister could go back to university and be young again.

As they left the pool, Riley thought about telling her how he’d seen his favourite footy team here again. He had watched the game on TV last night and was upset his mighty Jets had lost. He reckoned the ref had been unfair and had penalised them too much.

“What’s the point? Like she’d care, anyway—grumpy and nagging
at me today,
and it’s not like she’d even recognise a Jet if he was standing in front of her,” Riley grumbled under his breath.

Little did Riley realise how
correct
those words were as he looked up to see his sister standing, unbelievably, directly in front of one
of
his all-time favourite players.

Maybe I’m magic and my thoughts are coming to life.
He chuckled as
he watched
his sister and Brodie together. He shook his head, mouth gaping open.

Caitlin had been looking at the back of her brother’s drooping head. She knew he tried so hard to be good. Life had dealt him a rough hand already, but she had no doubt that Riley would overcome these hurdles. She was going to encourage him to set his goals high, then help him achieve them. It was the least she could do in memory of her mother and stepfather’s love for the little boy. She still remembered the joyous look in their eyes as they’d introduced her to the green-eyed bundle wrapped in blue, and the way they’d made her promise to love him as much as they loved her. She fiddled with her bracelet as the memory of her mother’s face came to mind, but the bracelet unexpectedly triggered a new image. It was the face of a huge man with big, brown eyes and a tasty, square jaw.

“Oh, my,” she said. “I really need to stop doing that.”

As the last word fell from her lips, she realised that the brown eyes and square jaw were, in fact, in front of her, and the lips in between seemed to be moving. Oh, Lord, he was talking to her and she had no idea what he was saying. Dressed in a black tracksuit and runners with a towel draped over his impossibly broad shoulders, he lounged against the wall with his arms
folded casually
over his chest and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He appeared to be waiting for her.

Caitlin stopped in her tracks. Riley also stopped and stood with his mouth open, staring at her. What was going on? She looked away from Riley and back to the figure against the wall. Riley
elbowed her hard in the ribs.
Ouch,
she thought, or maybe she’d even said it out loud, since Riley nudged her again, more gently.

“Hey, Cate, aren’t you going to answer Mr James? You’re always telling me it’s rude to ignore grown-ups if they ask you a question.”

Brodie was a little taken aback by the ‘grown-up’ comment from the kid. He wasn’t sure if the boy was making reference to Brodie’s age or not.
Even
the ‘Mr James’ remark was a kicker. The kid
obviously
knew who he was. Maybe she did as well.

Compared to the kid, he was old, he supposed. In fact, as Brodie took a clearer look at the girl, he realised he was a fair bit older than her too. If he was lucky, she was maybe twenty, which—although legal—would still be ten years his junior. He grimaced. He could see the headlines now.

Australian team captain in teen sex scandal. Caught with enormous hard-on at local pool.

The papers never let truth get in the way of a good story, had a habit of twisting the facts to sell a few more editions. Rugby league had been taking a battering in the press lately, with scandal after scandal. Some of the bad press was due to stupid, irresponsible dirtbags who didn’t deserve to play footy, but most of the stories were beat-ups used to boost ratings and inflate newspaper sales. He resented the way they seemed to want to turn the public against the game he loved.

Brodie had just wanted to see her again.
Just once,
he’d lied to himself. He could still feel the tingling sensation of her lips on his jaw, where she had pressed those sweet little kisses.
His cock twitched at the thought.
He had even considered asking her to meet him for a drink or something. Nothing serious, of course, but he’d thought maybe some more time exploring her fine body might be just what the doctor ordered. Seeing her now, standing there looking all innocent and timid, those emerald eyes so smoking hot that they were melting him,
made him want things that he shouldn’t. Her under him, those green eyes full of passion and need as he slammed his cock into her pussy. Would she be timid in his bed? Could he make her scream his name as he bought her to orgasm? But something inside Brodie, some fearful premonition, told him that having her would be too dangerous. ‘Not good for his career’ was what he deluded himself into thinking, while a voice in his head also warned him that maybe once he had her, he might not want to let go.
H
e decided it was not going to happen. Ever.

So why, then, did he not just walk away?

Needing to move before he became a puddle on the floor, Brodie pushed himself from the wall.
He
clos
ed
the distance between them with one big stride,
then
stopped in front of her and held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Brodie James. I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

Chapter Three

Caitlin
gazed
at the outstretched hand, then reached for it as if caught in some sort of magnetic field. His name was Brodie, he had said. He wanted to know her name, and she couldn’t speak. Brodie was looking at her, his smile lighting up his face and making the world seem dim around him. She stood there just staring up at him, holding his hand, the heat building up her arm and making a quick path throughout the rest of her body, down to her toes. She was sure they had curled. She blinked once, twice. He was still there, with an amused but sexy look in his eyes. Had it been hours, minutes, or just a few seconds? She had no idea. Her world had stopped.

Hearing
Riley’s familiar voice
saying her name, she dragged her hand from Brodie’s. Reality instantly returned to her and she felt colder at the loss of his touch. She finally managed to find her voice.

“Caitlin. My name is Caitlin Walters.”

Riley was actually jumping up and down on the spot. She had no idea why.
Focusing her attention
back
towards
Brodie James, Caitlin wondered if she should apologise for her earlier behaviour, or thank him again for returning her bracelet. She began to explain that the bracelet was her mother’s and she had been terrified at its apparent loss.

As she took a breath and opened her mouth to continue, Brodie pressed his finger lightly over her lips. Caitlin slid her tongue out of her mouth at the sizzling touch. Wanting to explore him, and momentarily forgetting about Riley and what he might think, she brushed her tongue against the digit.
Hearing Brodie groan, then growl sent Caitlin into a spin. Had she done something wrong? And if so, why did Brodie’s response send her emotions haywire? There was only one thing she could do—run.

Caitlin grabbed Riley by the hand and dragged him as she fled. She could hear the shock—or was it horror?—in Brodie’s voice as he called after her.

Even with Riley complaining next to her,
Caitlin
didn’t stop running until she reached her little green car. Finally breathing again, she grabbed the keys from her bag, unlocked the doors and threw herself inside.

She sat gripping the steering wheel with both hands, trying to prevent her heart from jumping out of her chest. Caitlin knew it wasn’t just the dash to her car that had her in such a state. The day had only just begun, and she was an emotional and physical wreck. She turned to Riley to see him staring at her, fury all over his young face.

“What was that all about, Caitlin Walters?” he almost shouted. “I had the chance to meet the Australian Test captain, the Jets’—
my team’s
—captain. One of my favourite players, and what do you do?” he snapped. “Run away. Nice move, sis.”

His face showed signs of concern for her. The boy was obviously too young to notice, or to understand, the slightly terrifying sexual attraction she had felt for his hero.

All she could manage in response to his outburst was a shake of her head and a soft reply. “I don’t know, Riles. I just don’t know.”

Her brother turned from her and looked out of the window, muttering to himself. It sounded to Caitlin something like, “The guys will never believe it anyway.” She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was it that the guys would not believe she’d fled, or just that the captain of the Jets had been at the pool? Caitlin’s head was spinning and rational thought was lost on her for the moment.

But Caitlin knew that no matter how much her emotions had her in a tailspin, the day was still ticking by and she had responsibilities to attend to—the first sitting, sulking and hungry, next to her. It was time to get moving.

* * * *

After a quick breakfast, Caitlin had dropped a still grumpy Riley at school. When she returned home to prepare for work and tidy their
modest
home,
she
busied herself packing away her bed, returning it to its usual day position as a
sofa.
After throwing a load of wet towels and swimming gear into the washer, she changed into her black and whites. Caitlin had been very fortunate to find employment as a waitress at a friendly, local Italian restaurant, conveniently located a short drive or comfortable walk from home. Caitlin did the lunch shift from Monday through to Friday. To her delight, the owner of Mia’s Restaurant, Angelo Donetto, also employed her as a singer on Friday and Saturday evenings. Caitlin loved singing above all else. Music had been her life before the accident. To get paid to do what she loved seemed almost immoral.

The other half of her duo was a portly Italian man named Roberto. Roberto could play anything on the piano—you only had to hum the tune a few times and he could play it. They performed myriad genres. From country to pop, or rock to swing, if a customer wanted it, they could usually deliver. For that reason, the pair had developed quite a following of regulars who returned
week after week
to savour the taste of good, homemade Italian food while enjoying the entertainment.

Singing was the one time Caitlin felt truly confident and in control. It was as if an alter ego took over when she held a microphone to her lips, and she was finally comfortable in her own skin.
She lost herself in a
dreamlike state whenever she performed. What was more, the generous tips she made from those nights went a long way towards helping to pay the price of Riley’s swimming squad fees. The situation was a good fit—something she loved was paying for something
he
loved.