“We sold it out of the back of Timmy Collins’s old Ford that had been souped up. We’d make runs late at night. The cops never caught us, but not because they didn’t try.”
Tim would kill him if he knew he was talking about him like this. Tim was the preacher at the Baptist church, and as far as Cal knew, he’d never taken a drink in his life.
“That’s how you got hooked on alcohol?”
“That, and stealing it out of liquor stores when the revenuers would find our still and blow it up.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re a thief, too?”
Maybe he was laying it on a little too thick. “Only once. I didn’t steal after that. It scared the hell out of me. I figured I was a lot of things but not a thief.”
Nikki seemed to relax. “When did the use of steroids start?”
“College.”
“They didn’t do random drug testing?”
“Yeah, but you pay someone clean to pee in the cup. It’s no big deal.”
“So, why did you stop taking them?”
Crap, why would he stop taking them? He wasn’t very good at lying.
“My heart,” he blurted.
“You had a heart attack?” Her eyes widened.
He thought back to everything he’d seen or heard about the use of steroids. “No, my heart was beating too fast.” That sounded plausible and she looked as though she bought his story.
“You dated a lot when you went pro,” she said.
“I thought you didn’t follow sports?” It was her turn to look nervous. “I don’t. I just assumed that since you’re a nice-looking man that you would’ve dated a lot of women. At least, until you met your fiancée.”
Good fix for her blunder. She’d impressed him. There’d been barely a hesitation between her slip and her recovery, but then, she had a lot more experience at this.
Cal sighed deeply. “They all wanted something from me.” That was the truth. When he’d become popular with the media, he’d had women crawling all over him to get in the spotlight. “And then I met Cynthia.”
“But she couldn’t accept your past.”
“That, and the affairs.” He almost laughed out loud at the affronted expression on her face.
“Affairs?” She sat up. Nope, she didn’t look happy.
“Well, yeah. I’m a star player. She should’ve known I couldn’t be faithful to one woman.”
“And why couldn’t you…keep your pants zipped?”
“Well, hell, that should be easy to figure out. Talk about temptation. I mean, look at you.”
Her frown deepened. “What about me?”
“Honey, you’ve been all over me ever since you got to the ranch. You just couldn’t resist the Braxton charm.”
“You know, it’s getting a little chilly.” She stood and went to the bag of things she’d brought with her.
He silently laughed until he saw her pulling on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt. Well, hell, he should’ve realized his last lie would put her in a tiff. No woman wanted to think a man was a cheater. The bad part about it was that he’d never cheated on a woman in his life.
But apparently, as his lies had progressed, he’d gotten pretty good at it. Enough that Nikki bought every word, and the only way to undo it would be to tell her it was all a lie. He really doubted that would help matters. It was a lose-lose situation.
He had a feeling it was going to be a long, cold night. He hadn’t brought anything to sleep in. He hadn’t thought he would need it.
He was wrong again.
Nikki watched Cal out of the corner of her eye as she yanked her shirt down. What she wanted to do was pick up the iron skillet and throw it at him.
She could forgive him for his wayward youth, even the steroids and the alcohol, but cheating on his fiancée? And because he thought he was some kind of macho football player?
Oh, that burned her up!
She grabbed the flashlight off the ground. “I’ll be back.” Mountain lions didn’t scare her a bit right now. In fact, if she happened on one she’d feel sorry for the beast.
She couldn’t believe Cal had even admitted to his wild youth, but then to add wood to the fire, he’d told her he would never be faithful-when he was sleeping with her!
Dumb jock.
But boy, did she have a story now. She’d probably get a raise out of this, along with a nice vacation. Cal would get exactly what he deserved: his career ruined, his life down the tube. That would suit her just fine. She could easily picture him as a broken man drowning his sorrows in drugs and alcohol.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Is that what she wanted? To ruin him? She looked toward camp and saw him laying out sleeping bags. He’d pulled on jeans but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Her mouth went dry. He had a magnificent body. Her heart broke at the thought of him wasting away.
Desolation filled her. Politicians were one thing, but Cal? She couldn’t help remembering how gentle he’d been with her, how his touch had inflamed her.
And when they’d ridden to the pond, he’d been patient as he’d taught her how to ride Taffy. And even today, when he’d shown her how to fish.
She didn’t want to ruin him. She wouldn’t mind seeing him suffer a little, but not total ruination.
Her shoulders slumped. What was happening to her? Where was her edge that she’d honed over the years?
It hit her in one big whoosh.
Oh, Lord, she’d fallen for the guy. It wasn’t just his body she lusted after. It was Cal. If she wanted a man with a buff body, she could get one, but she didn’t. Not that it didn’t help to have a buff body, though, which he did.
No, she wanted the one man who made her heart beat faster every time he glanced her way. She frowned. At least, she did until he’d opened up to her. Why did he have to ruin everything?
One thing for certain, she couldn’t write a story that would destroy his life. She’d tell Marge there was nothing exciting about the breakup. Nikki would lie to her boss. She could do that. She was good at lying.
When she returned to camp, she made an excuse about wanting to turn in early, but it was hours before she fell asleep, and even then, she tossed and turned, which wasn’t easy in a sleeping bag.
Cal already had coffee made the next morning when she dragged her eyelids open. It smelled great. She’d missed her coffee.
She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, and stretching her back. Good Lord, she pitied the pioneers. Sleeping on the ground wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. She longed for a real mattress.
“Morning,” Cal said, looking entirely too cheerful.
She grunted.
Mornings weren’t her favorite time of day, and she wasn’t the best at communication this early. She glanced around. She kind of missed seeing the crazy rooster, though.
After mumbling something that she was pretty certain was unintelligible, she pulled on her boots and headed for the trees. There was another thing she hated about living off the land.
She finished and headed toward the river to wash. For a moment she could only stare at it. The water was so clear as it flowed over the rocks. There was something pure about being outside this early.
A fish jumped into the air, twisted and turned before it plopped back into the river. For just a second, she wished she had her fishing pole.
Oh God, she was going country. She needed to get back to the city as soon as possible.
Back at camp, Cal handed her a cup of coffee. She cupped it in both hands and blew across the steaming liquid before taking a sip.
Bleh!
“Is there cream or sugar?”
“We’re pioneers, remember. They didn’t have cream, and more often then not, they didn’t have sugar. Nothing fancy here. They’d call this wake-up coffee.”
It would certainly do that and then some. She squatted on the ground noticing that even though her back hurt from sleeping on the hard ground last night, her thighs weren’t nearly as sore. She took another sip. The coffee was so strong it curled her toes.
“I take it you’re not a morning person.”