Read Worth It All (The McKinney Brothers #3) Online
Authors: Claudia Connor
And all she could think was, More. More of his taste, his scent, his touch.
The tension that had simmered between them all day exploded and when his thigh pressed between her legs with just the right pressure, it brought a rush of heat to her core. In this moment there was nothing else to think about, nothing else to want except this man with his hands and mouth making her entire body hum with pleasure.
While his lips drove her wild, one hand slid cleverly up her rib cage, stopping just at the underside of her breasts. A whimper escaped when his thumb rasped over her nipple. He did it again and she gasped his name. She wanted him, God, how she wanted him and everything his kiss promised, but this was going too fast. Especially since she didn’t know where it was going at all.
She broke the kiss, bringing herself back. Back to the place where she made sure she was doing the right thing, making all the right decisions. Jake lifted his head but didn’t let go.
They were both breathing hard and it took her a second. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she said softly, followed by a nervous laugh. “You’re kind of impossible to resist.”
His smile was soft and slow as he smoothed her hair back from her face. “I like being kind of impossible to resist.” He grazed his hand over her hair again and gently tucked a strand behind her ear. “And I like you.”
Looking up at him, she felt like a seed were being planted right inside her chest. A little bit painful and a lot scary, but she smiled. “I like you too.”
The sun rose into a clear sky the next morning as JT drove an hour north up the coast, then inland to Malibu State Park. He’d woken up the same way he’d gone to sleep—thinking about Paige. After a short run with Boulder, he decided to test out a new prosthetic rock-climbing foot. He’d combine work with pleasure, get some air and clear his head.
He needed his head cleared because he’d been an idiot for kissing Paige again, for even thinking he could get that close and resist her. She smiled and he felt taller, she laughed and he felt like a winner. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he never wanted to let her go. But even without the kiss, he figured he could have sat outside her trailer all night and been a happy man. Just talking to Paige, getting to know her, sitting close enough to hear her breathe filled something in him.
He needed to take a giant step back and think, because the things he was feeling were racing far into unknown territory.
It was barely eight when he was harnessed and roped in. He liked this time of day when the shadows moved across the rocks like a sundial. His climb would be moderate in difficulty, but the steep, pocketed volcanic rock would be a good first real-world test of the new foot he was developing specifically for climbing.
His newest design was narrow, with a sole that contracted and pressed outward to save energy. The elastic cord on the back allowed the ankle joint to extend when force was applied, then snapped back into position when the foot was lifted.
It’d been a game of trial and error to get it right, which is why he’d test it himself before he had anyone else try it.
When he reached a height of about fifteen feet, he clipped in and stretched for the next hold. One of the main challenges in sports was the lack of sensory feedback coming from the bottom of both feet. He felt the pressure at the sight of his amputation, but he couldn’t feel the rock under his right foot like he could his left.
Like he could feel Paige’s body under his hands. Her warm lips under his. Shit. He used his legs to push himself up to the next handhold. What was so different about Paige that he couldn’t resist her, that he felt so out of control around her and couldn’t stop thinking about her? She was soft and generous, strong and cautious. He was drawn to her in a way he didn’t even understand. But there was a connection there and he was sure she felt it.
The climb grew more challenging, and he forced himself to focus on the rock face so he didn’t get careless. He’d been pushing himself hard for forty-five minutes, his arms and shoulders were on fire, reminding him to use his legs more.
He paused before a particularly difficult overhang to catch his breath and drink some water. Sweat dripped from his face and neck, the bandana around his forehead long since soaked as the late-morning sun baked him like it baked the dark gray rock he clung to.
He pushed on, estimating thirty minutes to the top, then a fast rappel down. He thought of taking Casey climbing. Not here, but maybe at Evolution. She had an adventurous little spirit, and it would give her an activity in which she’d hopefully start seeing her prosthesis as an advantage. Maybe he’d wait until he’d made her a new one. He sighed, smiled, and gave in to the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about either of them. There were way worse things to think about.
Tired and sore, he stopped by the store two hours later on his way home. He needed essentials: bread, milk, toilet paper, and a new cell charger. He was halfway to electronics when his phone rang.
“What’s up, tiny brother?”
It was Stephen. They’d always called him that instead of little brother just because it pissed him off. “Not much. What’s up with you?”
“Same. At Mom’s for Sunday lunch. Hang on, Matt’s here. We’ll step outside and I’ll put you on speaker.”
The background noise lowered by a few hundred decibels. “Hey, man,” Matt said. “Question. Did you have Mr. Nelson for biology in high school?”
“I don’t remember. Doesn’t sound familiar,” JT said. “Why?”
“Because Annie starts high school in a few weeks,” Stephen explained. “Matt’s running background checks on every teacher.”
“I am not. I’m just curious,” Matt grumbled.
“Right, well, Mitchell will be in kindergarten and I pray the school is prepared for this. Not since you ran the halls of Saint Sebastian has there been more energy waiting to explode.”
JT laughed. He liked picturing his brother getting run down by a preschooler. Kindergarten also made him think of Casey, and he wondered what kind of school she’d be going to. “I wasn’t that bad. And how would you know, anyway? You were at the high school.”
“Word gets around,” Stephen said.
“Lucky for you. Kindergarten is innocent,” Matt grumbled again. “The thought of Annie walking the halls with eighteen-year-old men makes me want to hit something.”
“That’s obvious.” Stephen was clearly amused.
They talked a bit more, catching up on all the kids first, then his siblings. JT listened and laughed at the growing sound of chaos as more family members poured outside and chimed in on their conversation. He missed his family. The anger and helplessness after losing his leg had driven him to put space between them, but the gap that remained was his own guilt. Knowing in his heart that he wasn’t the man his brothers were, and the disappointment in his entire family’s eyes if they knew the truth.
He found the charger he needed and picked up some batteries, then found himself on the toy aisle. Lots of action figures. Without thinking, he got to the end and turned up another aisle instead of heading to the checkout.
“What do five-year-old girls like?” he blurted.
“What?” his brothers asked in unison.
“If I was going to buy a present for a five-year-old girl, what would I get?”
“Why would you be doing that?” Matt asked.
Because it just hit him that he hadn’t gotten Casey anything for her birthday. He’d taken her to the fair, but getting her a gift hadn’t occurred to him. “Just answer the damn question. I’m looking at dolls and…shit. They either have scary-ass eyes or they’re dressed for a nightclub.”
“And are you trying to impress her or her mother?” Matt asked almost at the same time.
Both maybe.
JT picked up a package of plastic animals that said
A
GE 7
P
LUS
in bold at the top. “Just tell me what to get that won’t offend her or bore her to death.”
Matt laughed. “We have so much stuff in this house, how the hell do I know who’s playing with what? I do know those age suggestions on the package are useless. Try telling Caroline she’s not old enough for a Barbie.”
“I am not buying a Barbie. That’s just…no.”
“I hear ya. What about Legos?”
Okay, Legos were good. He rounded the corner to the next aisle and found there were a billion choices here too. Star Wars. Harry Potter. Princess. “I don’t know. That’s a lot of small pieces.”
“She’s five? Should be old enough not to eat plastic if you keep her fed,” Stephen said.
JT reached for a large box with a house on the front.
“Now putting them up her nose might be another thing.”
Shit. He put it back.
“Who’s this for again?” Stephen asked, more than a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“She’s…” How to say it? He and Paige weren’t dating. Weren’t sleeping together. “She wears a prosthetic leg and I offered to help her out, make some adjustments.”
Stephen laughed. “And you’re buying a birthday present?”
“Never mind. Forget I asked.”
“No chance, but Mom is signaling me to ask when you’re coming home. Hannah too. She wanted to talk to you about a new playground system.”
Stephen’s wife, Hannah, ran a horse-therapy farm for disabled children. “I’m happy to help, but I don’t know when I’m going to make it back. If she can describe for me what she has in mind, I’ll work on it from here.” He gave the same excuses that he always used: work, work, and more work. They were actually more legitimate now with the patent deal and Lynn being pregnant.
Lizzie got on the phone next because…well, just because she was Lizzie.
“So who’s this woman we’re talking about?”
“No one.”
“What? You’re going to talk to them and not me? I am your only sister. Besides, I’m much more qualified to talk about women and love than they are.”
“It’s not like that.”
“I took you off speaker. Talk.”
He sighed, knowing Lizzie would hound him relentlessly, bringing even more attention and speculation. “It might be…something.”
“Something like what?”
“I’m not sure.” He picked up a puzzle and put it back. “She has a little girl.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Not a problem, just…a lot of responsibility.” A lot of opportunities to let someone down. A lot of opportunities to fail. Though Paige and Casey drew his focus from what he could have been, to what he could be.
“But you like her.”
“Yes. But I don’t want to lead her on, make her think it’s something it’s not.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, little brother? If you’re afraid a few nights with you leads to forlorn women dying for a long-term commitment.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What’s the point?”
That he wasn’t sure he could be the man she and Casey needed. “I don’t want to lead her on.”
“Would she be led on?”
“No. I don’t know. She said she didn’t date.”
Lizzie let out a loud, hooting laugh. “Wait…hang on. Sorry, I spewed my drink. So she told you she didn’t want you, and you’re still worried?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t exactly say she didn’t want me. Shit. You’re making me sound like an ass.”
“Aww. You’re not an ass. You’re just a confused man. That’s why God gave you a sister. Okay, look. Even single moms have to eat. She’d probably appreciate dinner and conversation with my super-cute little brother. And if you both agree it’s not going anywhere, then I don’t see the problem.”
“You sure?”
“Would I lie to you?”
“You once told me you had the power to turn me into a dog.”
“And still hilarious that you believed me.” Lizzie laughed again and he smiled. You couldn’t hear Lizzie laugh and not smile, even if she was laughing at you.
He finished his call, then took one last look down the toy aisle.
And then it hit him. He knew exactly what to get Casey for her birthday.
The diner continued to be busy all day, beginning with breakfast, then brunch and the church crowd in addition to the regulars. Jenny had brought Casey in an hour ago to begin her shift and now Paige was finishing up.
“You have plans tonight?” Paige asked her cousin as she gathered her bag.
“Maybe. Not sure yet, but don’t wait up.” Jenny kissed Casey on the cheek and smiled, but she was missing her usual sparkle when she had a man on the horizon. “What about you?”
“Me and my girl have big plans, don’t we, Case?”
“Yep. We’re going to the launder mat.”
“Ooh, laundry.” Jenny grinned. “Always a good time.”
Casey agreed. Luckily she did think it was great fun to put the quarters in and watch the machine fill with soapy water. They often made up silly rhymes and songs. It was special time and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The late-afternoon sun was hidden behind a haze of clouds when they left the diner. If it wasn’t too late, maybe they’d go to the park.
She and Casey hit the grocery store, then the Laundromat. The haze turned to rain, so they made an impromptu run to the dollar store. By seven o’clock her feet were dragging.
Casey sat, writing numbers at the table, and Paige helped her count by fives while she put on a pot of water for pasta.
“Five, ten…and then what?”
“Fifteen,” Paige filled in. Counting by fives was a kindergarten skill. She wanted Casey to feel prepared in case that played a part in her reluctance. Reluctance was putting it mildly. She added some salt and turned the burner up to high while the fifty-cent face mask Casey had lovingly applied dried on her face.
“Twenty, twenty-five,” Casey continued.
Two solid knocks at the door made her jump.
“I’ll get it.” Casey started to get down from her seat, prepared to cartwheel to the door all by herself.
Paige held up a hand, intercepting her. “No way, missy. You know better than that. You never, ever answer the door without me.” Paige passed Casey and peeked between the blinds, hoping whoever it was couldn’t see her.
“Mommy, who is it? Do we know them?”
She snatched her hand back on a sharp inhale. Jake.
“Mommy, who is it?”
The butterflies let loose in Paige’s stomach, and without answering her daughter, she fought with the crooked lock to open the door. She figured she stood there a full three seconds just staring at him through the screen. He waited patiently, his tall, dark, and delicious self, wearing jeans and a black polo-style shirt.
She hadn’t seen him in, oh…less than twenty-four hours. It seemed like longer.
“Hey,” she finally managed.
“Hey.”
“Jake!” Casey was at her side now, balancing on one leg against her. “We’re doing a spa.”
“I see that.” His eyes met hers, just as hot as they’d been last night and more than a little amused. “It looks…nice.”
Great. Paige smiled, or tried to, and felt the green mask covering her face crack around her mouth and eyes. His lips twitched, but he had the good grace to look away.
She stepped back to let him in and closed the door, fighting the lock again until he took over, applying some of his manly muscle.
“I brought those catalogs for Casey to look at. And dinner. It’s Italian.” He held up big brown bags in each hand.
Italian, as in the almost maybe date that didn’t happen? His expression was soft and a little unsure, and she felt a sudden urge to wrap her arms around him. She picked up Casey. “Thank you.”
“I…um…” He glanced down at the bags. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a lot of different things…but maybe you already ate.”
“Are you kidding? I’d eat again for Italian.”
She hadn’t wanted to be interested in him past anything more than friends. She’d been determined to make Casey her focus. But now he was here and out of all the various emotions churning inside her, the one that was front and center was happiness. Despite her surprise, even despite her green face and her resistance to men in general, she looked at Jake and felt happy.
“You should stay.”
“We’re having special time,” Casey said. “And we’re going to paint nails! You can do it too!”
Her gaze fell to his huge hands that she now pictured catching touchdown passes and sliding up her rib cage. “Um…not your thing, I’m sure.” Because he was definitely all man.
“I don’t know.” He grinned at Casey. “I’ve never been to a spa.”
“It’s great! And don’t worry,” Casey said, giving Paige a quick glance. “I’m not done yet.”
Jake gave her a slow, appreciative smile. “I wasn’t worried.”
One heated glance from the man and she felt a distinct tingle in her breasts as the girls switched to full high beam. Great. There might not be a lot up top, but she wasn’t lacking in the nipple department. Her cheeks felt hot and she crossed her arms awkwardly over her thin pajama top.
“We’re having macaroni and cheese with hot dogs,” Casey told him. “We have that every night.”
“Not every night,” Paige muttered under her breath. But too often. She moved to the stove to turn off the boiling water, setting Casey in a kitchen chair on her way.
“But what Mommy really likes is pizza and orange juice.” Casey made a disgusted face.
“Really?” Jake sent her a curious look. “Pizza and orange juice, huh?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Was he laughing? She tried to narrow her eyes at him. It was hard with her face cracking.
“You, ah…want to wash your face or—”
A green flake fell from her forehead and caught on her lip. Yeah, he was definitely laughing. “Yes.” She spun for the bathroom.
After washing her face and the bit Casey had managed to get in her hair, she took a second to study her reflection. Her face was scrubbed and a little pink.
She’d rather change into something better than old pajamas, especially with Jake looking his usual hot, put-together self. Since that would be even more embarrassing, she pulled her hair down from the ponytail, quickly donned a bra, and returned to the kitchen.
Casey sat on the kitchen table, going through each bag, while Jake set out plates and forks. He should have looked out of place in the tiny kitchen, with his wide shoulders and dominating presence, and he did. But at the same time, he didn’t.
“What’s in that bag?” Casey was pointing to a bigger bag, purple, not brown like the others.
“A late birthday present.”
“For me?” Casey’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t hesitate.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Paige said.
“I know I didn’t. I just thought she might like it.”
They watched silently as Casey pulled out a small gum-ball machine already filled with colorful balls.
“Thank you!” Casey reached up to hug him and squeezed until he faked a choking sound.
The man was like a thousand strings tugging on her heart. “Thank you. That was really sweet.”
“You’re welcome. They didn’t have sugar-free gum, I hope it’s okay. I remember what a big deal brushing teeth is, and…” He looked embarrassed. “Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.”
She laid her hand lightly on his upper arm. “It was a great idea. We’ll just have to brush extra good, right, Case?”
“Right.” Casey shook the machine and turned the knob until a red ball fell out.
“But after dinner.”
She poured milk for Casey and iced tea for them. By the time they’d unpacked all the bags, there was a feast laid out before them. Chicken parmesan, chicken marsala, plain spaghetti with red sauce on the side. Lasagna, bread sticks, salad, tiramisu.
“You can sit by me, Jake,” Casey offered.
“I would love to sit by you.” Jake caught the back of the chair she pushed out before it toppled over.
The small table was pushed up against a wall covered in Casey’s art. Crayon drawings and tape. Streams of marker-soaked toilet paper and tape. And a mass of plastic straws and tape.
“She’s artistic,” Paige said, smiling, noting his observation.
“I see that. I could use your decorating services at my house if you have the time.”
“Sure.” Casey beamed up at him like the sun. “I can make you something.”
Minutes later, Casey paused in her eating and let out a deep, dramatic sigh. “Isn’t this a beautiful evening we’re having?”
Paige laughed, choking on her tea, and Jake laughed at her choking. It
was
a beautiful evening.
Casey kept them on their toes and laughing with her tales of Leon and off-the-wall questions only she could come up with. She quizzed Jake relentlessly. Favorite animal, favorite color, favorite color of gum, did he like pancakes, and on and on it went. Jake answered every one.
Paige got up for refills and peeked into the last bag. She sucked in a long, deep breath at what was inside. “You brought me a cake.”
“Yes.”
She looked up, meeting his brown eyes focused on her. “An entire cake.”
“And you don’t even have to walk for it.”
She bit her lip and stared down at the cake, feeling like a snow globe that had been recently settled, just a few small flakes and sparkles left to drift into place, but was now shaken until nothing was clear anymore.
With extreme effort, she gathered herself and came over to collect their plates.
“I’ll help.” Jake pushed back in his chair.
“No, you cooked. Or brought it,” she added before he could protest.
She cleaned up, using the time to pull it together while she listened to Casey’s laughter, trading silly jokes with Jake and showing off her handstands and cartwheels. She finished and joined them on the floor where they’d pushed the coffee table aside to have more room.
In between acrobatic shows, Jake asked Casey to put on her prosthesis so he could check it again. He was just reaching for the catalogs he’d brought when she popped up, a gleam in her eye. “I’ll be back in a gypsy.”
Jake laughed out loud at the word gypsy, the sound washing over her. Such a great laugh. He didn’t seem nearly as serious as she’d thought when they first met. Maybe it was Casey, maybe she brought out a more playful side in him like he brought out a more confident side in her. If that was the case, she was glad.
Casey was indeed back in a gypsy with some recent pictures she’d drawn. She handed them to Jake and settled herself in his lap because evidently they needed explanation. “See? This is me and this is you and that’s the water.”
“Are we in the ocean?”
“No. It’s just water. I’ve never been to the ocean.”
“It’s on our to-do list,” Paige said when Jake glanced at her.
The picture showed two stick people. One big, one small. Both of them covered to the arms by scalloped blue lines, typical of Casey. She didn’t draw herself often, but when she did, she never drew her legs. She was in the water or in a castle or sticking out from behind a house or a cloud. Paige wasn’t sure if she should make something of it or not.
Jake studied her rendering. “Nice water.”
“And there can’t be sharks in the water,” she told him. “Or he might bite off our other leg.”
“Nah,” Jake said, shaking his head. “I don’t think he would get me. If a shark came by, I’d knock him out with my extra strong leg. And”—he knocked his knuckles on the titanium rod through his jeans—“if he bit this one, his teeth would fall out.”
Casey didn’t laugh as maybe Jake had intended, but she studied him like that was something she’d never considered. That her prosthesis was actually stronger than her flesh-and-bone leg.
Jake pulled the catalogs over and opened one of them showing various socket colors.
“Casey, Jake is going to make you a new prosthesis.”
“You are?” Casey looked up at him in amazement.
“Yes. And if you look in here, you can show me what you want it to look like.”
“I want it to look like yours.”
“Okay. We can do that.” They went through several pages, but Casey was more interested in Jake’s prosthesis than anything she saw in the catalog.
Paige thought Jake would excuse himself when they finished, but he didn’t and they spent the next thirty minutes painting nails. A somewhat awkward endeavor, beginning with Casey insisting he choose his color.
Watching Jake sit there and let her five-year-old with still-developing fine motor skills paint his nails and cuticles a bright fuchsia was the sweetest and hottest thing she’d ever witnessed. She looked at him now, sitting still on the couch, hands on his knees to let his nails dry as he’d been instructed.
It knocked her completely off balance, confusing everything she’d ever thought and believed about men and herself, her life and Casey’s life. What she wanted and what she needed.
She couldn’t think about it right this second. “Time for bed, Case.”
Casey gave a small protest, then brightened. “I want Jake to read the story.”