Love at Any Cost (11 page)

Bram studied him with a wary eye. “Cassie is a catch, Mac, no doubt about that, but don't rush into anything, please. Give her time to see if it's what she wants too.”

“Oh, she'll want it all right,” he muttered, jaw steeled. “You know me, Padre—when I make up my mind to go after something, it's as good as done.”

Bram paused, his eyes suddenly serious as Cassie lunged for Blake. “I know, but for all her cowhide exterior, Cassie's heart is too vulnerable right now for you to rush her just because it's what you want. And you may think she's the woman for you, but you need to be fair to Cassie and give her time to make the decision for herself.”

“I don't have time,” Jamie said, his tone suddenly hard. He thought of his sister, her crippled hip denying her the life she was meant to live, and had no inclination to wait. Cassie McClare was not only his ticket to true love, but she was his sister's chance at an operation and
his
chance to make political and financial strides. “Sorry, Bram—but I know in my gut she's the woman I need.” He watched as she scooped Maddie up in her arms, the two of them giggling and drenched to the bone. Setting her little cousin down, she commenced to somersaults while his heart did the same.
And the woman I want?
She shot from the water like a sea nymph, water sluicing down the most fascinating woman he'd ever known, wet or dry. Jamie's Adam's apple dipped in his throat.
Oh, yeah . . .

Sweet Texas tea, I could get used to this!
Breathing in the scent of the sea, Cassie stretched on the sundeck with a lazy smile,
soaking in the afternoon sun that radiated through the panes of glass overhead. She lay there with eyes closed, feeling the vibration of people running and walking on the wood decking, hearing the rustle of potted palms lining the railing beside her. Loud splashes of water were punctuated with shrieks of children and the laughter of a group of girls sunbathing a few feet away. The smell of seawater on damp wood merged with the pungent smell of wet wool from thousands of waterlogged bathing suits. It reminded her of wet dog, and homesickness struck at the thought of her golden retriever, Gus. From there, her mind veered to Mama and Daddy, causing her to miss them so much, she vowed to write a letter after dinner.

Out of nowhere, the smell of popcorn taunted and she sniffed a deep breath, causing her stomach to rumble.
Oh, crumb! I should have gone to the concession stand with everyone else.

Something flicked off her face, and she swatted, guessing it to be a fly. It landed in her hair, and she batted several times, hoping to shoo it away. It tickled the hollow of her throat and she scowled with a slap at her neck. “Thunderation, go bother somebody else, you little pest!”

“Can't. Nobody's as fun to torment.”

Jolting up, Cassie shaded her eyes, squinting up at a “pest” who was anything but “little” as he towered over her with a devilish smile. A piece of popcorn hit her square on the nose, bouncing off before she realized what it was. Her mouth tipped. “If you value your life, MacKenna, you best start aiming for my mouth—I'm starved.”

A kernel ricocheted off her teeth, and his husky chuckle made her mouth go dry, as much from the look in his eye as from the popcorn. “It helps if you open it for something other than lame threats, Miss McClare.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Let me get my lariat, Mr. MacKenna, and I'll show you lame.” Her jaws extended wide, and popcorn pelted the back of her throat. She grinned, mouth watering around the salty morsel. “Mmm . . . not bad for a pretty boy.”

He gave her a mischievous grin. “You should see my other skills.”

She wished the heat in her face was sunburn, but she knew better. And apparently so did he because he chuckled before dropping to sit beside her, muscled legs tented as he handed her the popcorn. “Better be careful, Cass, your face is getting red.”

She snatched the bag, miffed when more blood scorched her cheeks. “Thank you,” she muttered, rattled by his close proximity. She averted her eyes from thickly sculpted arms to hard-muscled legs, painfully aware her “sunburn” was getting worse by the moment. “Where are the others?” she asked, anxious to divert attention. Spending time with Jamie MacKenna as friends in a group was one thing. Lying beside him alone on a sparsely populated sundeck in bathing suits was something else altogether. Suddenly Cassie was painfully aware of her bare legs and tucked them to her side, wishing the others would return soon.

“Blake was hungry, so he talked everyone into snacks.” He grabbed the towel draped over his shoulder and bunched it into a pillow, then lay down with hands to the back of his neck, biceps bulging and legs crossed at the ankles. “I decided to take pity on you with popcorn.” His tone held a tease. “Seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do for a friend.”

A friend, yes.
She chanced a peek at narrow hips, a washboard stomach, and broad shoulders that stirred a dizzy swirl in her middle, none of which had to do with the bobbing of the deck.
A dangerous proposition, indeed
, she thought with a shaky exhale. Oh, he'd apologized for his outrageous behavior in the billiard
room that night, over and over to be exact, but the damage was done. Almost as if the low-down varmint had branded her brain on purpose, the memory of his kiss so powerful, she'd go weak at the mere thought. Her lips went flat. And the way they were pasted together when they'd vaulted from the water after Marco Polo? Great balls of fire, her legs were so limp, she would have sunk like an anchor if he hadn't held her up, making friendship with this man a risky venture for sure.

Eyes closed, he thrust his formidable chin in an apparent effort to capture the rays of the sun, giving her the courage to study him unaware. He was, undeniably, the most handsome man she'd ever seen, even more so than Mark, and that was saying something. Thick, dark lashes entirely too long for a male rested against a perfectly sculpted face that even at this early hour hinted at the shadow of a dark beard. Damp curls feathered in the breeze, giving him a reckless air only enhanced by full, wide lips edged with the barest of smiles. No, he was entirely too beautiful to be trustworthy and too masculine to be above suspicion—something she'd learned the hard way, and she wasn't about to make that mistake again. She breathed in deeply, willing herself to be calm despite the flutters in her stomach. Friendship with Jamie MacKenna may be a risky venture, but it was far better than the alternative, and she had little choice since he was Blake's best friend.

He chose that moment to open his eyes, and blood gorged her cheeks when he caught her staring. Clearing her throat, she quickly scooted against a potted palm in front of the railing, tucking her legs beneath the skirt of her suit. Bag in her lap, she placed several kernels in her mouth, striving for nonchalance. “So . . . you met Blake and Bram in law school or college?”

Shifting to his side, he propped his head on his elbow to peer
up beneath those ridiculous lashes. “Neither—met 'em at the Oly Club where I worked during college. It's their influence—with your Uncles Logan and Liam—that helped me get a foot into Stanford where the three of us attended law school. You might say I owe Blake and Bram my life—they're not only the best friends I've ever had, they're the only ones.”

He opened his mouth wide to indicate he wanted popcorn, looking so much like a baby bird waiting for a worm that Cassie grinned as she aimed. He snapped the popcorn midair before gulping it down with a smile. “Mmm . . . good at billiards, poker, and target-throwing.” His smile veered wayward. “You good at everything you do, Cowgirl?”

She scrunched her nose. “Mostly, if you exclude men.” She squinted and took aim at his mouth again, anxious to steer the conversation away from herself. “The only friends you've ever had?” she inquired in jest. “What, too busy wooing girlfriends to make time for the male variety?”

He captured the kernel with a firm click of perfectly white teeth. “Nope, too busy studying and working three jobs to make any friends—male or female.” He held out a cupped palm, and she poured popcorn in, a piece of which he promptly tossed in the air and caught with his mouth. “You know, that's the third time you've accused me of having a girlfriend, Cass, but the truth is I've only dated a handful of women because I simply haven't had time before now.”

She stopped mid-chew. “Now, why do I find that so hard to believe?”

Another kernel popped in the air, and he caught it with ease. “I don't know—maybe because you've got me pegged as nothing more than a pretty-boy womanizer?”

A piece of popcorn lodged in her throat, and she began to
hack, prompting him to jump to his knees and tap her on the back. “You okay?”

She waved him away, quite sure her “sunburn” bordered on heatstroke. Sucking in a deep breath, she peeked up with a guilty smile.

He laughed, the sound warm and intimate despite the other sunbathers scattered across the deck. Sprawling on his side again, he gave her a boyish grin that made her stomach somersault like the kids in the pool. “That's okay—I had you pegged as a spoiled princess with a burr in your saddle, so we're even. And,” he said with a zag of his brow, “both of us apparently wrong.” He tossed another piece of popcorn, chomping it with a firm clamp of his jaw. “Besides, what else were you supposed to think when I so brazenly sealed our friendship with a kiss?”

“Exactly,” she said, attempting to swallow the lump in her throat. “Besides, Alli says you have a penchant for senators' daughters, Miss Hamilton, in particular, and you
are
very attractive, so I just assumed . . .”

“Assumed?” He targeted her with a kernel, which promptly bounced off the tip of her nose. “If I did that in a court of law, Miss McClare, I'd never win.” He grabbed the piece and downed it before extending a palm. “So . . . shall we start over?”

She studied his hand, cheeks heating at the memory of when he'd offered it the last time.

His grin softened into a smile. “No tricks this time, Cass, you have my word.”

Her gaze met his, and her heart did a little swoop at the connection that sparked. Swallowing hard, she gave him her hand, heart stuttering when his palm swallowed it whole, giving her a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Friends,” he whispered, hazel eyes fused to hers.

She nodded slowly and brushed loose hair from her eyes, shaky fingers tingling from his touch. “Goodness, it's hard to believe someone like you has never had a girlfriend or anyone you've cared for. It just seems like you're so . . . ,” she gulped, “experienced.”

“Nope, just a quick study.” Lying back, he cocked his hands behind his neck. “Other than a few girls here and there, till now, all of my attention has been devoted to two women—my mother and my sister.” He closed his eyes, smile dimming. “They mean everything to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, apparently striving for casual once again. “So, between family, school, and jobs, you'll be happy to know I haven't had a lot of time to womanize.”

She paused, her heart aching as she chewed on the edge of her lip. “Alli told me your sister is crippled,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry, Jamie.”

His eyes remained closed, but a muscle jerked in his cheek. “Yeah, she is, but not for long, I hope. I'm working on getting her help, a newfangled operation I've read about.”

“Goodness, I'll certainly be praying about that.”

He glanced up, eyes narrowing, but not from the sun. “Don't waste your breath, Cass, for all the good it will do.” At her look of shock, he vented with a noisy sigh, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, but I don't put a lot of stock in prayer. It's kind of hard to believe in a God who hasn't lifted a finger for us all of our lives and then cripples my sister too.”

Cassie's eyes splayed wide. “You don't believe in God?” she whispered, stunned that a man who appeared to have everything was missing the only thing that really mattered.

His jaw stiffened. “Not much, and even if I did, I'm not sure I'd like him a whole lot.”

She gasped, suddenly aware she needn't have worried about their friendship being a risk. There was no way she'd allow herself to fall in love with a man who didn't share her faith.

He turned back on his side, elbow cocked and mouth tipped in a conciliatory smile. “You don't have to look so scandalized. My mother and sister are advocates, even if I'm not. They're always praying about everything, and I even take them to church every week like a model son. But when it comes to Jess's surgery and providing for my family?” He shook his head, lips pursed. “I just prefer to fend for myself, that's all.” He looked up, the edge disappearing from his tone as he gave her a faint smile. “Life's obstacles are daunting, and we all have to overcome in our own way.” His eyes softened. “But then, you should know all about that,” he whispered, voice as tender as the look in his eyes. He paused. “What happened in Texas, Cass?”