Caught in the Act (The Davenports) by Kim Law Page A

thing was falling apart; you’d carried it around and worked on it so much.”
    Her words started a buzz inside him. She remembered his play? “It was the first one I’d ever written.”
    “I know.” Her free hand landed on top of his. “I was so impressed. I’d never known anyone who’d written a play before.”
    The actors began mingling with the crowd, and he caught sight of several people handing out bouquets. Opening night was always exciting. His mother reappeared on the far side of the room and headed their way.
    “I think you were just easily impressed,” he muttered as he turned her hands loose. He didn’t want his mother to interrupt, yet he knew there was no way of getting out of it. Plus, he had flowers for her.
    Cat shifted around in front of him then, catching his full attention as she tilted her head back to stare up at him. Her lips parted slightly and he couldn’t help but take in the red lipstick that perfectly matched the cherries in her dress. Her bare throat arched and he found himself wondering if her skin was as soft as he remembered it.
    He was amazed that he remembered what she felt like. But he did.
    Every last inch of her.
    She studied him carefully, her eyes hiding her thoughts, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her and drag her off backstage.
    This friendship-only thing was not going to last.
    “I apparently still am,” she finally murmured. Her gaze dipped for a brief second to his mouth, and his dick twitched in his pants. Friends shouldn’t look at friends like that.
    “Can I take you home tonight?” he asked, his voice coming out scratchier than he’d like, but hell, Cat was staring at him as if she wanted him for a midnight snack.
    “But my car—”
    “Will be fine here. We’ll get it tomorrow. I want to take you for a ride in my car.”
    Didn’t that sound naughty? Come here little girl, I have some candy for you.
    “I’ll put the top down,” he coaxed.
    Surprise lit her features. “Oh,” she breathed. “Your car. The red one.”
    “The Chevelle,” he said drily. Good Lord. It wasn’t “the red one.” He shook his head, somewhat offended. “It’s a 1970 Chevelle SS. It’s the first car I ever owned,” he added. “The actual car I owned, not one like it. I managed to find it last year and paid a hefty price to have it restored.”
    Cat snickered. “Touchy about your car, Brody?”
    “He’s touchy about a good many things.” His mother joined them. She smiled widely at him before looking from him to Cat. “Don’t you want to introduce us, dear?”
    “No,” he said. “Not really.”
    But Cat turned and gave his mother a warm hug. “You were so good up there, Ms. Hollister. What a pleasure to meet you.”
    His mother made eye contact with him over Cat’s head. Her look seemed to be saying What the hell? Is she blind?
    He returned the look. Yeah, you stunk.
    His mother frowned at him.
    Cat pulled back and Brody retrieved the bouquets of roses he’d stashed under his seat. He held one out for his mother. “Undeserving this time, Mom, but here you go.”
    “What do you mean, undeserving?” Cat squawked like any good mother would. “She was terrific.”
    “She had eight lines and she missed her cue both times.”
    “I was caught off guard,” his mother stated. “I didn’t realize you’d be here with a date.”
    “Oh.” Cat brushed the words off and slipped her arm through his mother’s. “We aren’t on a date. We’re just neighbors.” She grinned broadly at Brody. The look came across a little too bright. “Friends.”
    His mother stared at her. Cat was several inches shorter, but with the heels, they were almost the same height. His heart squeezed at the sight of the two of them standing arm in arm. At fifteen, he’d wanted to introduce her to his mom. He’d thought they had the kind of love that lasted forever.
    Funny how things turned out.
    “Annabelle Hollister,” he finally said, clearing his throat and inclining his