Love at Any Cost (10 page)

“Me, too, Cait,” he said quietly.
More than you know.
Missed forgiving his brother before it was too late . . . and missed the closeness they'd once shared so very long ago.

Before the woman in his arms had torn them apart . . .

His mind in a fog that surely matched Cait's, he absently feathered the curls at the nape of her neck, his thoughts as melancholy as hers. She didn't seem to notice, so lost in her soulful reverie was she, sagging against his chest with a wispy sigh. “S-sometimes,” she whispered, voice thick with remorse, “I still get angry at him, as if he had any say in leaving . . .”

He drew in a deep breath, barely aware as he gently kneaded the back of her neck. “I know, I wrestle with that too.” He exhaled. “Among other things . . .”

With a catch of her breath, she pulled quickly away. “Oh, Logan, I'm so sorry—I shouldn't be burdening you like this.”

He angled a brow. “Do you feel better?”

She paused before a faint smile tipped the edge of her mouth. “You know, I believe I do.”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “Well, then, that's what friends are for.” Gaze fused to hers, he skimmed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, wanting more than anything to pull her into his arms and whisper his love in her ear. But if he learned anything in law school, it was that timing was key, and Caitlyn McClare was too important, too special—too critical to his happiness—to risk botching it like before. And so he caressed her face with his eyes instead, stroking her cheek, tracing her lips in his mind, loving her vicariously through his thoughts. Until she finally belonged to him. And it was coming. Oh, yes, it was coming . . .

Patting her hand, he rose and pulled her with him, nudging her to the door. “You look beat, Cait, better get some sleep.”

He opened the screen, and she hurried through, turning halfway when he clicked it behind her. “You're not coming in?” she asked, perfectly sculpted brows inched up in surprise.

“Nope.” Nodding toward the second story, he reached in his jacket for a cigarette from a gold monogrammed case, giving her
a little-boy grin. “I know you don't like me to smoke in the house, and I don't indulge all that much anymore, but I need a break. Especially after getting my clock cleaned in pool by one of your boys. But don't worry, I'll lock up when I'm done.”

She studied him with a soft look that held traces of affection, surprise, and wonder. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her head tilted, and in the moonlight, she looked like that same innocent girl he'd fallen in love with. His throat suddenly ached. Truth be told, she still was, and the pull she wielded was so powerful, he felt his rib cage constrict. Her tender smile did funny things to his gut. “And I'm not worried,” she whispered, her next words packing a wallop. “Because I trust you, Logan. Good night.”

“G'night, Cait.” Snapping the case open and shut, he put a cigarette in his mouth before lighting it with a shaky hand, figuring he'd need the whole blasted thing to calm him back down. He took a sharp inhale and blew it out, the weight and meaning of her words abundantly clear, at least to him if not to her. Elbows on the balustrade, he stared out at the shimmering bay, the tip of his cigarette glowing red in the night. Trusting him once had been her biggest mistake. He slowly exhaled, his thoughts drifting like the curls of smoke that rose in the sky. He'd make good and sure trusting him twice wouldn't be her second.

 10 

A
low whistle slipped from Jamie's lips. “Holy thunder, Abraham, would you look at those gams!” He swallowed hard, his tongue as dry as the mountains of sand dredged out by Sutro Baths on the far side of the shore.

San Francisco's premiere indoor swimming facility was abuzz with people enjoying seven seawater and freshwater pools beneath a four-story glazed roof of 100,000 panes of stained glass. Sunlight dappled the people and water below with rainbow colors while children splashed and played with parents and friends. The pools fairly shimmered with activity like a sea of minnows, from bathers milling on the platforms to swimmers flying high on toboggan slides, swings, flying rings, and trampolines. The crash of the surf on the rocky shore outside filtered in between the laughter and shrieks of children of all ages, each and every one thrilling to Adolph Sutro's man-made wonder. The largest and most magnificent bathhouse in the world, San Francisco's top summer attraction lured people far and wide, a veritable Atlantis where ten thousand bathers could experience a love affair with the sea all at one time.

A love affair, indeed, Jamie thought with a race of his pulse, but not with the sea. Despite the buzz and hum of this water
wonderland, his gaze was fused solely on Cassidy McClare, the breath in his lungs heaving to a stop the moment she stepped from the ladies' locker. Even in Sutro Baths' standard black woolen rental bathing suits, she was a vision, sporting a thigh-high hem striped with white that showcased the most beautiful legs he'd ever seen. He sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head.
Heavenly days, I'm in love!

“Hey, you ogling my cousin, MacKenna?” Blake said in a tease, palming seawater into Jamie's face as he, Bram, and Jamie sat on the side of the pool. Feet dangling in the water, the three men fared better than most in Sutro's standard issue of black men's one-piece rental suits, revealing broad shoulders and hard-muscled bodies honed to intimidation at the Oly Club gym.

A low chuckle rumbled from Bram's throat. “Oh, he's doing more than ogling.” He brushed a fly from his shoulder. “Trust me, Mac has designs on Cass for ogling and more.”

Jamie flicked a handful of water at Bram, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “What are you talking about, Hughes, Cassie and I are just friends.”

“Sure you are,” Bram said with a grin. “I've never seen you this far gone over a ‘friend' before, and since it's Blake's cousin, I figure he has a right to know.”

“Know what?” Blake gave Jamie the eye. “You smitten with our Texas girl, Mac?”

Sliding Bram a thin gaze, Jamie cuffed the back of his neck as he shot Blake a sheepish look. “You could say that, or in Texas vernacular, you might say I'm hog-tied in love.”

Blake grinned and slapped Jamie's back. “Well, I have no problem with you being in the family. May as well be, as much as you eat us out of house and home.”

Jamie gritted his teeth, gaze roving to where Cassie and her
cousins were making their way over. “Just one problem, Blake. When it comes to men, she's as skittish as a newborn colt. It's taken weeks for her to even talk to me, and the only way I could get her to be civil was to tell her I just wanted to be friends.”

“Which is nothing but a brazen lie,” Bram said with a chuckle. He thumped the side of Jamie's head. “How's it feel, MacKenna, not to have a woman swoon at your feet?”

Jamie slapped his hand away, flashing some teeth. “More like you mortals, I guess. I'll tell you what, though, it sure helps me to understand you a lot better, Hughes.”

“Well, you must be making some headway.” Blake squinted at Cassie out of the corner of his eye as she chatted with Alli. “Seems she's been a lot less crusty with you lately.”

“Yeah, she has,” Jamie said with a soft smile. “Which means just a few more weeks of friendship, and then I make my move.”

Blake skewed him with a look. “Your
move
? With
my
cousin?”

Jamie grinned. “Purely legitimate, McClare—nothing more than a kiss to convince her we've moved beyond friends. I'm not stupid enough to pull anything funny with a girl like her, trust me. Good grief, the woman would rope and brand me if I got fresh, which I have to admit—” he offered a crooked grin—“would be well worth the risk.”

Maddie skipped forward, an auburn pigtail bouncing off the wide straps of her black skirted swimsuit. “Alli says we're going to play Marco Polo,” she said with a clap.

“You bet we are,” Alli said. “Any takers?” She propped her hands on the hips of her full-skirted black rental bathing suit.

“The sooner we get in the water, the better,” Cassie said, tugging at the cinched waist of her suit, emphasizing a shapely body that left Jamie tongue-tied. “These things are itchy.”

I know the feeling
, Jamie thought with a garbled clear of his
throat. The “itch” to know Cassidy McClare better was driving him
crazy
. Hopping to his feet, he leisurely stretched arms overhead, bending side to side to loosen up for the game. “Let's do it, then—I'll be Marco.”

Bram jumped up. “I guess we know who's going lose
this
game,” he muttered, his grin annoying Jamie to no end. He ambled over to tug on Meg's saffron-colored braid before latching a brotherly arm over her shoulders. “Stick with me, Bug, and I'll keep the bad shark away.”

Meg giggled, cheeks tinged pinker than sunburn. With an adolescent crush that was obvious to everyone but Bram, it was a toss-up as to which glowed more—her eyes or her face.

“Come on, squirt, you're with me.” Blake scooped Maddie up with a nuzzle to her neck that produced a joyous squeal. “Hold your nose, kiddo, we're going in . . .” The squealing ended with a loud splash when Blake jumped into the waist-high pool with his little sister, prompting a peal of giggles when she popped back up in his arms.

“Last one in the water is the backside of a baboon!” Cassie leapt into the pool as gracelessly as possible, legs flailing and wisps of gold trailing from a happily haphazard chignon. A smile eased across Jamie's lips, and he followed suit, making a beeline to where Cassie was splashing with Bram and Blake. “Oh, here's the baboon now,” she teased, turning on him with a slap of water before darting behind Bram for protection.

His approach slow and methodical, Jamie supplied a challenging smile. “I wouldn't be hanging your hat on him, Sugar Pie,” he said in the lazy Texas drawl he'd perfected to get under her skin. “Because when I'm through with you, Cowgirl, that pretty face is gonna make a baboon's backside look plum pale.” He lunged around Bram, but the little brat was slicker than a minnow's ear, hurtling away to hide behind Blake and Maddie, who promptly cheered her on.

“Come on, City Boy, no stalling.” Cassie gave a sassy sway of hips. “
Or
cheating.”

“I beg your pardon,” he said with a hand to his chest. “I don't
have
to cheat.”

“Except at tennis,” Blake said with a chuckle.

“Only because it doesn't take any brains, McClare.” Jamie swooped a swell of water in Blake's direction, causing Maddie to squeal and kick on his shoulders.

“No, just brawn, which you're short on too.” Bram grinned, bracing Meg's shoulders.

“I got all the brawn I need in my fists,” Jamie said with a cocky smile, “which, may I remind you, won you and Big Mouth over there many a bet at the Oly Club.”

“Uh, excuse me, ‘Marco,' ” Alli said with a superior lift of her brow, “for someone calling others a ‘big mouth,' you're sure jawing a lot. Can we get started before I shrivel into a prune?”

“Too late.” Blake tugged on her sagging suit, which was too big for her petite frame.

“Okay, everybody, you best scatter.” Jamie closed his eyes and waded through the water with a confident air. “Because even blind, I'm dangerous—Marco!”

“Polo!” Shouts split the air, and Jamie grinned, honing in on a sassy feminine voice to his right. He sloshed on with one goal in mind: to get his hands on Cassidy McClare. “Marco!”

“Polo!” Voices rang out, along with chuckles and the wild swish of water, none of which could throw him off track from the throaty giggle of a sea nymph with a Texas drawl.

Easing forward, he could almost feel her nearby, his senses alert to the gentle lapping of water from someone attempting to back away. “Marco!”

“Polo . . .”

He grinned. Her feeble response signaled a stealthy attempt at escape. Victory coursed through his veins as he shouted, his cry that of a warrior in battle. “Marco!”

There was no giggly response this time, only a squeal and a thrash of water when she lunged away, but his swim skills had been finely tuned at the Oly Club, where he'd swum many a lap in the water-polo pool. He dove with eyes wide, those beautiful legs floundering in a futile attempt to flee. For several pulse-pounding seconds she wrestled wildly in a blur, and he would have grinned if he could have done so without taking in seawater. He looped her at the waist and shot straight up in a gush of foamy water, his grin breaking free. Unwilling to let go, he held her longer than necessary, her body flush to his while she spit and swiped at her eyes. Mouth to her ear, he couldn't resist. “A baboon's backside has nothing on you right now, Cowgirl.”

“So help me,” she sputtered, elbowing him till he released her with a grunt. She spun around to kick him in the shins, but the water slowed the impact, so she finished him off with a knee to his left thigh.

“Ouch,” he said with a groan. He massaged his leg with a grimace that wasn't all pretend. “What is it with you and that bony knee of yours? You can't pick a different thigh to gouge? This one's still blue from the last time.”

“Good!” She gave him a playful shove. “Serves you right, MacKenna. You are just not happy unless you're manhandling somebody, are you, you overgrown bully?”

He offered a lopsided grin as soppy as the itchy woolen bathing suit matted to his water-slick chest. “Nope, I'm a ‘man,' and heaven knows I do like to ‘handle,' so I'd say you're it, Cowgirl.” His drawl managed to coax a semblance of a smile from those wet, pouty lips.

“Hey, MacKenna!” Alli said, hands on hips. “It's water tag, Pretty Boy, not wrestling at the Oly.” She winked at Cassie. “Bet you wish you had that mangy lasso right about now, don't you?”

Cassie pushed a wet strand of hair out of her face. “You have no idea.” Lips pursed, she zoned in on Blake, water lust in her eyes. “You're next, McClare.”

“Hey, why me? I've got an innocent child on my shoulders.” Blake took several steps back, hands gripped tight to Maddie's stubby legs. “Tell her, Maddie.”

The little imp actually wiggled in delight, little hands pasted across her brother's eyes. “Ooooo—get him, Cass—it'll be fun!”

Jamie grinned. “If you can tell which one's the little girl.”

Cassie laughed, green eyes as thin as pine needles. “You're next, MacKenna, if I can't get Blake, so don't get too comfortable.”

Don't I wish
. Jamie gave her a smug smile, but his heart was pounding harder than the surf outside the Baths. He slogged over to Bram and Meg, leaning close to Bram's ear. “Marco Polo is now officially one of my favorite games,” he whispered.

“Prone to contact sports, are you?” Bram cupped his hands to his mouth, responding to Cassie. “Polo!”

Jamie lowered his voice so Meg couldn't hear. “You bet. It's all I have till I can court the woman right and proper.”

“Give it time, Mac,” Bram said, backing away from Meg for privacy. “The girl's battle worn and gun-shy, so you'll have to take it real slow.”

“Tell that to my heart.” Jamie's smile took a twist. “Polo!” He muffled his voice, eyes never straying from Cassie. “The woman's everything I want, Bram—smart, sassy, beautiful, funny—and the icing on the cake? A McClare. A family so wealthy and politically connected, we'll all be living on Nob Hill as one big, happy family before the little MacKennas arrive.” He released a slow,
wavering breath. “The truth? I couldn't have dreamed anyone better suited for me—Polo!”