What a Woman Gets (22 page)

I
T
was a thought that stayed with Liam throughout the dinner with Gran and his brothers that evening. Sean and Bryan were at each other's throats—figuratively, that was. The three of them were as close as could be, but one couldn't
not
rib the other about anything and everything.

Funny, though, that they knew to draw the line when the subject of Cassidy came up.

“How's Cassidy?” Gran asked, effectively shutting down the conversation about the issue with Sean's project and getting their focus on him. She might as well have said Rachel, because the reaction would be the same. His brothers had been his support system when that relationship had gone to hell and he knew they'd be there for him even if he fell off the wagon and into Cassidy's bed.

But too bad they didn't know the Cassidy he did.

But he wasn't ready to share that Cassidy yet. Wanted to make sure she really was what he was coming to think she was before he sprang her on the guys. They'd be naturally cautious, and he had enough on his plate without them looking over his shoulder. “She's Cassidy.” He just hoped Gran didn't bring up anything about her staying at his place. Then again, Cassidy hadn't given her the correct name, so Gran wasn't supposed to know who his houseguest really was.

“Now, Liam, don't judge her by what everyone says about her. I mean, look at Bryan. Do you really think everything they've printed about him is true? He hasn't dated all those women.”

It was not his place to disabuse his grandmother about Bryan's supposed lack of prowess. Because Bryan didn't lack any prowess and the tabloids made good use of that.

“Don't worry, Gran. I'm letting Cassidy prove herself.”

And what a surprise she was turning out to be.

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.” Gran waved her glass around for a little more wine, and Liam recognized that gesture for what it was: a change of subject. Gran never had two glasses of wine.

Her tactic worked and the rest of the dinner was all about Sean and the heiress, Bryan and the widow, and Liam's latest property-flipping project. And racquetball. Specifically, Sean challenging him to a game tomorrow night.

Blowing off some steam on the court and kicking Sean's ass at the same time sounded like just the thing to take the edge off. He'd imagine Davenport's face on the ball. A win-win in his book.

“You know, Liam,” said Gran after serving dessert, her homemade apple pie. It brought back all sorts of memories from his childhood—Gran had been one of those who'd put her pies on the windowsill to cool. He and Jared had stolen a pie only once. The whooping she'd given them—verbal, not physical—had been enough to make them never want to do that again. Well, that and the threat that she'd never give him another slice for the rest of his life. Thing was, Gran had meant it, so he'd learned to respect her orders.

Had Cassidy ever had someone bake her a pie? Sneak her a piece when she'd fallen off her bike or gotten tackled in the big game, or whatever the boarding school debutante version of falling down during a clutch game was?

He had a feeling she hadn't. Her father, as evidenced by that phone call to the man he'd chosen for her to marry, had no concept of how to raise a child. No concept of family.

No wonder she'd lived the life she'd lived. With a man as shallow as Davenport raising her—or leaving others to raise her—what chance had she had?

And the fact that she was trying to change . . . Couple that with the whole attraction thing, and the situation was just getting more complicated.

Gran wasn't helping matters. “I met your houseguest, Liam,” she said after Bry and Sean had left.

He'd been two steps away from making a clean break. “She mentioned it.”

“She seems nice.” Gran was going to drag it out.

“Yes.”

“She's painting a piece of furniture for me.”

“She told me.”

“It'd be nice if you could help her deliver it. I'm sure it's too heavy for her to do by herself.”

Message received. Still . . . “Oh she's pretty good at doing things by herself, Gran. Is kind of insisting on it, actually.”

Gran patted him on his arm. “Just because someone can, doesn't mean they should, Liam. She's a nice girl and ought to be judged on her own merits. Remember that.”

It wasn't something he was likely to forget.

Y
OU
brought
Cassidy
?” Sean whispered as Liam was taking his racquet out of his bag for their game.

“It's not like I had a lot of time to come up with someone else, and she overheard.”

Liam glanced at the girls who were on the other side of the court doing whatever girls did when they first meet. And this had to be the first meeting for the two of them; Sean's Gypsy-Chick would never run in the same circles as Cassidy.

“She's in pink,” Sean stage-whispered. “Rhinestones.”

“Tell me about it.” They'd had to run out and buy her a pair of sneakers courtesy of Davenport's hush money, but she'd refused to take any extra cash to buy an outfit. She hadn't wanted to be in debt to him any more than she already was, and Liam had been ready to
give
her the cash because he didn't think anything could be more inappropriate for a game of racquetball than the rhinestones. But then he got a look at Livvy, Sean's partner, in her beaded skirt and stomach-flashing half shirt, and realized he was wrong. The Gypsy-Chick won.

Yet despite this, Sean had the balls to ask, “She does know that this is a sport, right? That you get hot and sweaty and the makeup will slide off her face?”

“If she doesn't, she soon will. That could make this whole thing worthwhile.” He meant the hot and sweaty part. He wouldn't mind seeing Cassidy like that—

Damn shorts suddenly got tight. He crossed his arms with the racquet hanging down, hoping to hide the evidence. “Any progress with the Gypsy-Chick?” Livvy's grandmother had changed her will, leaving the estate to Livvy instead of allowing Sean to buy it at the below-market price they'd previously agreed on
if
Livvy completed some strange scavenger hunt thing the old woman had devised. Liam, Bry, and Sean were all hoping she failed.

Actually, Sean was doing a little more than hoping. He was kind of helping the failure along.

Sean rolled his eyes. “We're following the clues. Tomorrow we're chasing down baby cradles.”

A jolt shot straight through Liam's gut. Babies. It seemed to be a theme lately. His assistant was on maternity leave, his housekeeper was on maternity leave, Cassidy's father was selling her out like a brood mare . . . “You realize that's a dangerous line of thought around any woman, right?”

“Trust me,” said Sean. “It's not an issue.”

“Famous last words.” He wasn't talking to Sean. He smacked his bro in the chest. “Come on. Let's get this going.” He needed to concentrate on something other than Cassidy in those short shorts that hugged her ass in a way his palms were itching to.

He gripped his racquet. At least he could get a good workout in so thoughts of her across the hall from him tonight wouldn't screw with his sleep.

*   *   *

F
IVE
minutes into the game and that was a lost cause. Hell,
two
minutes into the game, with Cassidy's slim, toned body eating up the court, and her hair swishing all over the place, and the determined grunt she made every time she returned the volley . . . Liam was going to have all sorts of dreams and probably be up all night. In every sense of that word. God, even with those crazy rhinestone-studded protective glasses she used for painting on for safety, the woman drove him crazy.

“Woo hoo! Score one for me!” Gypsy-Chick, er, Livvy high-fived Sean, getting Liam's head back into the game. No way was he going to lose this one. The last game he'd lost had been the poker one, and look where that'd gotten him.

“Don't get too comfortable with a one-point lead. Cass and I will have you eating our dust.” He looked over at Cassidy while tossing Sean the ball.

She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “Cass-i-dy, Liam. I don't like Cass.”

He did, though. It suited her: tough, to the point, ready to take on the world and come out a winner.

He liked that in a woman.

Head in the game, Manley.

“Serve, Sean.”

He kept his head in it for a while actually. Cassidy was as good a player as he was. And Livvy was no slouch either. Both women could have used some help in the athletic attire department, but they had their game faces on. The match was as even as if it were just him and Sean.

“You need a break yet, Cass?”

She glared at him but didn't answer.

He hid his smile. He liked teasing her.

He was liking a lot of things about her.

Yo, Manley, chill. Just because she
seems
to be different from Rachel doesn't mean she is. It's been, what, two weeks? Not exactly the longest track record. Slow down, du
de.

His conscience had a point. Rachel hadn't shown her true colors at first. Or maybe he hadn't been looking closely enough.

He was, however, looking very closely at Cassidy.

“Sean, you gonna serve it or stare at it? I don't have all night, you know.” He lunged from side to side, twirling his racket in his palm, his nerves stretched thin. Time to get this game over with and go back to his house where she had her side and he had his and he could think things through before he did something he'd regret.

“Come on, Sean,” said Livvy, smiling at him. “I'm ready.”

Whoa. When that woman smiled . . . Sean would have to be dead not to notice her.

And with the way his serve fell short . . . He'd noticed.

Ha. His brother had a weak spot. Good. Now, as long as he didn't figure out that Liam had one as well.

“One more, Sean,” he taunted. “You lose the serve and you can kiss this game goodbye.”

“You're not that lucky, Lee.” Sean smashed the serve, and he and Livvy managed to pull two points ahead, dammit, before the serve changed hands.

“Ladies first.” Liam bounced Cassidy the ball. “Let's show these two how it's done, Cass.”

And then he could show
her
how it was done—

Damn, he almost missed Sean's return. He had to get his head in the game so they didn't lose the match. Sean would never let him live it down.

Luckily, Livvy gave up their fifth consecutive point, and after that, she and Sean couldn't touch him and Cassidy. The serve volleyed between them, but Cassidy managed to get as many points on the board as Liam did. They were well matched.

Slow, Manley. Slow.

He was trying, but watching her bounce around the court . . . That tight T-shirt and those short shorts hid nothing from his imagination and he had to work really hard, totally focus on every point, or Sean would have the physical proof for the questioning look he kept sending Liam's way. One Liam was not about to answer.

He gritted his teeth and raised his hand over his head, gearing up for the serve. Sean had a weakness on the left and Livvy was too far away to cover it.

Cassidy glanced at him, nodded toward the corner where he'd been planning to serve, then faced the wall, her racquet passing between her hands as she bounced from one foot to the other, her adrenaline literally keeping her on her toes.

He glanced at Sean, trying to keep him guessing where he was going to serve it. Then he looked at Livvy while keeping Sean's weak spot in sight out of the corner of his eye, and served.

It hit the floor, hit the wall, and veered off exactly how he'd wanted it to, way out of reach for either Sean or Livvy.

“Score!” Liam raised his arms in a V. “You're going down, Sean,” he said, allowing himself to crow after high-fiving Cassidy. “Ready to cry like a baby?”

“Bring it on, bro.” Sean was all business, lined up and waiting.

Cassidy earned them a point with another wicked serve, then it was Liam's turn again. He smashed it, sending Sean all over the court and Livvy diving to save a shot.

It was the distraction of her
thud
as her shoulder hit the floor that Liam was looking for. He slammed the ball so hard he heard it whistle.

Unfortunately, Sean heard it, too, and managed to make a solid return.

Cassidy went after it with a powerful shot that almost got by Livvy, but again, Gypsy-Chick went all out for the ball, smacking her hands on the floor as she landed. That outfit wasn't the best design for taking a dive.

Liam took the shot, smashing it past Sean so the bounce-back would hit him if he didn't move—

Damn. Sean made a half turn and managed to catch a piece of it, enough to get it back to the wall for Cassidy's return.

Cassidy, braced for a spike, had to adjust quickly to reach the ball before the second bounce, lobbing it beautifully. Not that a lob would earn them the point, but her form for the shot was incredible.

Hell, her form for
anything
was incredible.

Livvy returned the volley, and Liam followed the arc, doing the logistics as he ran toward the right corner. One point from taking the game and with Sean back over his left shoulder, he could take the easy shot to the center front to keep the ball in play, or rebound it off the side wall and try for the win.

He went for it, smashing the ball to the side and, yes! Sean missed!

“Winner!” Liam tossed his racket to the floor and swept Cassidy up in his arms, twirling her around.

“We won!” She shook her ponytail down her back, laughing as she wrapped her arms around his neck and—

The celebration got serious in a heartbeat. Matter of fact, he could
hear
his heartbeat. Or maybe it was hers.

He stopped twirling.

She stopped laughing.

He didn't let go.

She didn't either.

He did, however, set her down on her feet.

In a long, slow slide down the front of his body.

There wasn't one damn thing left to his imagination. Hers either if she was paying attention.

The darkening of her eyes said she was.

The quick lick of her lips said she was.

The tightening of her breasts against his chest said she was.

“So, Lee. You and Cassidy want to—”

Yeah he and Cassidy wanted to and Sean's cut-off sentence said it was a secret from no one.

Liam cleared his throat and stepped back while Cassidy practically stumbled away at the same time.

“You guys want to go grab something to eat?” Sean glared at him, challenging him to say nothing was going on. That what Sean had just witnessed wasn't true; that he and Cassidy hadn't almost locked lips right here in the middle of the racquetball court where anyone walking by could see.

Not that there was anything Liam could say. A dead man would know what'd been in his mind a few seconds ago and Sean wasn't dead. He was also a pretty smart guy and he'd been there for the hell after Rachel.

“Thanks, but I have to get home.” He didn't need the lecture or the looks. “Billing's backing up with my assistant out on maternity leave, and if the bills don't go out, money can't come in.” He didn't dare glance at Cassidy. One look and Sean would know he was lying through his teeth. Money wasn't what was on his mind.

Sean stared at him a few seconds too long. “If that's what you want . . .” He tossed him his racquet. “Give me a call when you get a moment. I need to remind you about a few things.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” He didn't want to hear Sean's
things
. He knew what they were, but he wasn't about to discuss this situation with his brother before he figured out what he wanted to do.

He grabbed his gym bag and looked at Cassidy—who looked like a million dollars and not because of her father's money. An honest-to-God sweaty workout made her light up. No makeup, sweat glistening on her skin, messy hair that he wanted to comb his fingers through, and lips so damn puffy and kissable that he had a feeling one night with her would never be enough.

But . . . maybe . . . Maybe it'd get her out of his system.