The longer she stared at the photos, the more she wondered if the impossible was, in fact, possible. What if...
"You're cute when you concentrate."
As the warm timber of Jason's voice washed over her, her internal temperature rose. Women all over LA dropped their panties at the sound of his voice. She didn't want to be one of them. Maybe not exactly the truth, but she'd stick to her delusions for now.
She glanced at the clock, and her jaw dropped. Past ten. "Did Nick get to school okay?" In a haste, she attempted to shove the morning's photos into her project folder.
Jason was too fast for her. "Yeah, he got off fine. Are those from this morning? How did you get prints of these so quick?"
Izzy pointed at her portable printer. "I know they're digital, but I still love my trusty light table. I don't have negatives, but I like to get some light behind them."
"Were you able to get a hold of Sabrina?"
"I tried. All I got was her voicemail. I left her a message about the house. Told her we needed to talk."
He rocked back on his heels. "Izzy, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Nick's bruise right away. I should have insisted-"
She put up a hand. "No, you did the best you could. Kids are tough. The right balance between earning their trust and doing what's best for them isn't easy."
Without saying a word, he moved over to her side of the light table and extended his hand. "C'mon, I have a surprise for you."
Dubious, she inspected his hand for the trap. He waggled his fingers and teased her into acceptance. "I don't do so well with surprises."
Jason cocked his head, his smile, equal parts scrutiny and charm. "You used to love surprises. Whatever happened to that Izzy. I liked her. Let's bring her back."
Stifling the girlish urge to giggle, she allowed him to tug her to the back deck. "Nah, she's gone. I shot her in Reno just to watch her die."
"Smartass."
Izzy screwed up her face. "What, you don't like Johnny Cash?"
He rolled his eyes as he positioned her on the deck. "Close your eyes."
"Why?"
"Just close them, woman. Damn, you could drive a man to drink."
She closed her eyes, making sure to use as much exaggerated reluctance as she could muster. No reason for him to know how thrilled she felt. "What's your drink? I figure if I'm going to drive you to the act, I might as well provide the alcohol."
The low rumble of his laughter made her knees wobble. As she stood there, eyes closed, late morning sun on her face, she wondered if he gave any thought to their kiss the other day. She may have said she didn't want anything to do with him, but her body certainly didn't agree.
She felt him shift behind her, fully moving into her space. Warmth and a musky, woodsy scent followed him, making her almost beg for him to hold her. Taking hold of her shoulders, he turned her body to an angle.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now."
She peeled her eyelids open. Her eyes took several seconds to adjust to the onslaught of light. On the chair in front of her lay a racket. The handle wrapped in pink tape.
Izzy swung around to survey him. "I don't understand."
"What's not to get? The racket's for you."
She folded her arms across her chest and tried to sidestep him, but he wouldn't let her pass. "I don't want a racket. I'm grateful, but I don't play anymore, Jason."
"Why?"
"Because..." Izzy shut her eyes in an attempt to escape from his probing gaze. "I don't. Not anymore."
"But why, Iz? You were a star. You loved to play."
"Jason, you haven't known me in years. A lot has changed. Tennis isn't my life anymore." Frustrated, she ran her hands through her hair. "Not everyone wants to be in the spotlight like you."
To keep her in position, Jason put his hands on her shoulders. "Izzy, no one's asking you to suit up to play center court at Wimbledon. I'm just asking you to pick up the racket and have some fun. I saw you as you watched us. You looked like you miss it."
She removed his hands from her shoulders. "Look, you've been great, letting us come to stay here. I appreciate your help and hospitality more than I can say. But I won't have you pushing me into this. Why do you care if I play or not?"
Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. "Izzy, I'd give anything to see your face light up again. Yeah sure, I see some of the joyful Izzy when you look at Nick, but when's the last time you experienced pure bliss and enjoyment for yourself, your pleasure. I only wanted-"
"Enough. God, why does everyone think they know what's best for me. My mother, Jessica, Simon, shit, even Nick's in on the game. And now you. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I know what I need. What I want."
Jason tucked his head and peered at her from under thick, dark blond lashes. "Yeah okay, I understand. You're pissed. I was presumptive. Thought I knew what would make you happy." He turned to the sliding glass door. "I'm headed to physical therapy. I'll leave a set of keys to the Mercedes in the garage in case you want to go anywhere. Since I'll already be in town, I'll pick Nick up from school."
"Jason, I-" Thinking better of it, she softened her tone. "Thanks. I'll be able to get some work done."
"I want you to think about it, Izzy. What would make you happy?"
Jason pushed himself far beyond blood-engorged veins and sweat-soaked T-shirt. He focused his mind on the punishing workout. Pushed his body until every muscle screamed for release, then pushed them further.
He'd thought about calling Aaron before therapy, but given their last conversation, he wasn't in the mood. Why talk it out when he could sweat it out? He'd only meant to lighten Izzy's mood. Instead, she'd compared him to her slimy, too-close-for-comfort manager, and her mother at the same time. Not fair.
She acted like he'd dropped her off at center court for the US open, handed her a racket and told her good luck. He'd hoped to, at the very least, get her to hold the racket again. Maybe hit a couple of balls around, remember how she used to feel before she held the weight of a two ton semi, or at least the weight of a boy, on her shoulders.
He hadn't thought she'd fight him so hard. It was only tennis. A game. The one thing they'd shared in common. The one thing able to put their tenuous relationship on some kind of even keel.
Maybe he shouldn't have pushed. But ever since Nick had told him she hadn't played since her father's death, he couldn't help himself, charging in on his white horse, or racket, practically brow beating her into playing. He couldn't force her to play or heal.
I'm an idiot. Just because they'd gone after each other like kids on a honeymoon didn't mean she'd given him permission to take over her life. They were different, and at different points in their lives, but every nerve in his body screamed they still mattered to each other. Or at least, she still mattered to him.
One scorching kiss in her studio did not a relationship make. No matter what feelings she'd stirred in him. She'd already been real clear she didn't trust him. Have you given her any reason to?
She was right. Enough people in her life tried to influence her one way or another. Took advantage. Sabrina. Her father. Jason had only met him twice, but from what he remembered, the Major didn't suffer fools and made it clear everyone was to follow his edicts or else.
The old man had been hard on her, pushed her to be perfect and over-achieve at everything. She went to college early, played tennis on a professional level, got terrific grades. The perfect athlete. The perfect friend. The suffocated daughter.
Now, like the moron he was, he'd pushed too hard. Izzy had never said no to anyone or anything. Except him. Maybe that should tell him something.
Jason pushed through the throbbing pain in his knee to complete the last set of leg lifts. Sweat dripped from his hair in hot, messy streaks down his face. He should have asked her if she'd consider playing again, instead of getting ahead of himself and assuming. She had every right to be wary of him. Hell, if he were her, with their history, he'd run far and fast.
Damn. He hadn't even had the sense to ask her out on a proper date. Sure, he'd gone by her studio to do that, hoped to pick up where they'd left off, but strolling in with a hope and a prayer would hardly sweep anyone up in a wave of emotion.
Every other woman he knew clamored to spend time with him. Wanted to hang around at the parties. If he bought them a gift, they fawned over him. But not Izzy. Ornery, obstinate, unimpressed Izzy pushed him away and insisted on something real. He couldn't ever take the easy route with her. She made him work.
At one point he'd loved her for it. Love. If he didn't watch himself, he'd end up just as in love with her now as he had been then. Would that be so bad? It had been so long since he let himself care about anyone, he took a moment to re-familiarize himself. She might not believe he had feelings for her now, but no matter what it took, he'd prove it.
Chapter Twenty-Three.
Izzy's singular sense of confusion warred with her annoyance and her guilt for top billing in her mind. As she ambled around the living area, unable to process her argument with Jason, the vast, empty expanse of the house added to her feeling of desolation. As usual, when faced with a challenge like Jason, she opted for self preservation. Without much effort, he managed to push the limits of her safely-constructed world and challenged her carefully-constructed walls. With a simple gesture, he exposed her fear.
It's just a stupid racket. Then why did the sight of the pink, taped handle fill her with icy terror? I've handled dozens of Nick's rackets. However, never, not once, had she considered playing.
She hated to admit it, but Jason had a point. For the first time in years, as she watched the sun spread rays over the court, watched the joy in Nick's face, she thought seriously about playing again.
Why punish Jason because he'd noticed the need, the desire, and aimed to please? Because you don't trust him. He was slick. He'd had enough practice with his assortment of ex-girlfriends and lovers.
He said he wanted her to be happy. After all these years, he still cared about her. Never mind his past with Sabrina. Never mind their history. Never mind her pride. Maybe she needed to give him a chance. A real chance. Not the half-assed one she'd attempted before.
Unable to stand the silence in the house any longer, she pulled out her cell. Jessica answered before the end of the first ring.
"Hiya, home slice."
Izzy shook her head. "Have you been watching BET even after I cut you off?"
"Nope. Urban dictionary. It's the dog's bollocks." Izzy heard papers shuffling. "You should check it out, you know, so you can keep up with me and Nick."
The dog's bollocks? She rolled her eyes. "Any messages?"
"Just Simon wanting to know your whereabouts. Not to worry though, I told him you'd run off with an exceptionally handsome rich guy. He didn't sound pleased. Your mother called too. You made the news in San Diego."
Great, just what I need. "Anyone else? Sabrina call? Come by the house?"
"Sorry. No sign of her supreme bitchiness. The cops are done though. Jason called, said his cleaning crew would be by tomorrow. You guys playing nice over there?"
"Yep, sure. Define playing nice."
"Damn, Izzy, what did you do?"
"Why do you assume I did anything? He's the over-charming, slick one who thinks he can get away with murder because he's Jason Cartwright."
Jessica's three-second silence seemed to stretch longer than a college overnight. "Okay, look, I didn't butt into your life when you let the harpy come and stay with you. I don't say anything, or rather not much, when you date guys who don't make you happy. Nevertheless, I've had enough."
Izzy tried to interrupt. "But, Jess-"
Jessica continued as if she hadn't heard. "You need to stop living in the past with Jason. He obviously cares about your wellbeing. You people need to have it out and stop dancing around your issues. Maybe he's not Mr. Relationship, but when was the last time you let yourself have some fun with someone. Carpe diem. Stop focusing on the past."
Izzy hated it when Jessica had a point. But then, she'd already come to the same conclusion herself. She looked over toward the light streaming in from the deck and sighed. "Jess, thanks for sticking around over there, and for kicking my ass. I appreciate everything more than you know."
Jessica giggled. "No prob, Bob. It's time you let someone take care of things for you for a change."
"I'm working on it. Listen, if Sabrina calls... "
"Understood. Tell her to call you." The second line shrilled in the background. "Iz, hottie, lawyer-guy is on the line. You want me to take a message?"
Bryce. "No, I'll call him right now."
After hanging up with Jessica, she immediately called Bryce. "I understand you're looking for me."
"Iz, where you been? I've been calling you at home since last night. Tried your cell, went straight to voicemail. Are you having some torrid love affair you're afraid to tell me about?"
Why was the idea of her having a torrid love affair so amusing to everyone? "No. We had a break-in at the house yesterday afternoon-"
"Geez, Izzy. Are you guys okay? Do you need anything? Where are you now?"
"We're fine. Nick was at school, and Jess and I were in the studio. I've taken Nick to stay with a friend in Malibu."
"Where's Sabrina?"
"The katrillion dollar question. I don't think she came home the previous night. Haven't seen her. The police were at the house getting some evidence earlier, but she didn't make an appearance."
"I'm calling with some more bad news, Iz."
Her heart hammered two quick beats against her chest, before locking in place waiting for the news.
"Sabrina filed for sole custody of Nick yesterday."
Even though she'd expected the news, even though she'd known it was coming, it didn't stop the crushing weights of dread and defeat from settling on her shoulders. "That's just perfect."
"Do you think she had anything to do with the break-in? It'll help your case if she did."
After she briefed him on the details of the photos of Nick, he let out a low whistle.
"Man, that friend of yours comes with her own cargo carrier of trouble. But, this can be good news for you."
Izzy almost dropped the phone as she considered what would happen to Sabrina if she was involved with her old dealer again. "Bryce, I'm worried about her. She's been so adamant about being clean. I'm sure she's using again."
"Good, ol' Izzy. The woman makes your life hell for several weeks, threatens to take away your pride and joy, and you're worried about her wellbeing. That's why I love you."
Frustrated, Izzy reminded herself, not to grind her teeth. She didn't need an achy jaw on top of it all. "I am who I am, Bryce."
"Fair enough. Regardless of what else is going on, Sabrina being MIA is still a good thing. I've got a date scheduled with the judge next week to review the current custody arrangement. In light of the latest developments..."
"Yeah, I know." Despite everything, Izzy couldn't shake the worry that something wasn't right.