Wait! My beauty? What am I thinking?
Frank took his eyes off the road to glance at Aidan. “Like I said, Casey won’t be able to drive her tour boat tomorrow,” he went on. “Doc says maneuvering that big boat will be too strenuous for her with a mild concussion, and we count on that income to keep the golf course and us afloat.”
So, Aidan guessed right about their financial hole. No doubt Frank could tell the sympathy card was working better than the guilt card. Were things that tight for the green-eyed beauty?
“Even riding along and just narrating might be too much for her. You don’t have anyone else that can do the tours?”
“Of course I do,” Frank said impatiently. “Jonas Graber sold us the tour business, and he still works part-time doing tours for us when it gets busy in the summer.”
“Then why don’t you—”
“Because he’s taking an extended vacation and travelling with his wife Georgia like he does every spring.”
Just my luck. I should steer clear of getting involved with Casey Stuart, so what do I do? Get myself thrown into the small confines of a tour boat with her. Every day.
“You could drive the tour boat, right?”
“I can drive any boat.” Even his yacht if he had to. His pride butted in that time. He’d do better to keep his mouth shut.
“I knew it.” Frank grinned again. “Plus, Casey helps me at the golf course. I need her, and she surely can’t do both jobs with a concussion.”
Aidan knew when he was being railroaded. “No, I suppose not, but—”
“Don’t worry about room and board. You can stay at the house with us, and I’ll just add on extra work hours to pay for that too. You can’t leave town until the hearing anyway.”
Stay with the beauty for a few weeks and help her uncle for whom Aidan had quickly developed a liking, despite him being played?
Maybe life had just gotten exciting again.
~ ~ ~
Frank’s house wasn’t far from the sheriff’s office, ten blocks or so, and still within the small downtown area. A Key West style like the pro shop, his house had been painted a light blue and with yellow-and-white shutters. At least, they looked that color with only the outside porch light on the upper landing to judge by. Like his pro shop, Frank’s house had a wraparound porch on the second level with a set of stairs for outside access.
Aidan guessed the two structures had shared the same builder as they’d passed at least a couple dozen similar styles on the way to the golf course. Florida beach towns loved that Key West look.
Frank pulled into the carport, which lay beneath the upper level, and they entered the ground floor from there. The downstairs space was one large game room with floor-to-ceiling cabinets on one end for storage. The room held a couch, coffee table, recliner, and a massive flat-screen television. A bathroom and small wet-bar-faux-kitchen, with a sink, refrigerator and microwave, rounded out the room.
“Your man cave?” Aidan asked.
“Yup. This here is a sleeper sofa and folds out into a bed. You’ll have your own bathroom and refrigerator, though you can take meals with us. Plenty of privacy down here.”
And keeps me a full floor away from your niece.
Aidan didn’t think he had ever slept on a sofa bed, and his ever-present instinct warned him he probably wouldn’t like it. He had great instincts.
“Come on upstairs. We’ll check on Casey, and I’ll take Mamie home. She doesn’t like to drive at night.”
The stairs opened up in a nice-sized kitchen on the second level with a table and four chairs in an open area by a window overlooking the backyard. Besides the kitchen they stood in, the main floor had a large living room, a dining room, and three bedrooms, or so Frank told him. Aidan wasn’t offered a tour, and that only reinforced his notion that Uncle Frank needed him but needed him downstairs.
Frank headed for the living room, and Aidan fell in step behind him. He stopped at the doorway though Frank kept going and conversed in low whispers with Mamie who rose from the couch.
His beauty was asleep and wrapped up in a big comforter at the opposite end of the good-sized couch. She looked so small and helpless. Her cheeks were pale without any of the ruddy color he’d admired when they locked gazes in the marina. A small spate of panic hit again, and his gaze flew to Mamie to see if the woman seemed worried.
She didn’t. She smiled as she conversed with Frank. Aidan took a few tentative steps into the living room and suffered an overwhelming urge to rush over and touch Casey to be sure she harbored no fever or other ill effects from her accident.
He halted when he realized silence had descended in the room and noticed Frank and Mamie staring fixedly at Casey. His hand hovered just above her forehead.
He cleared his throat. “Was just going to check for a fever.”
“Got none,” Mamie pronounced. “Just checked.”
Frank only stared.
After a few more uncomfortable moments, he said, “I’m taking Mamie home now and going to the pharmacy to fill the prescription Doc gave me. I didn’t have time before. You stay here by Casey. We’ll figure out our watch schedule for tonight when I get back.”
Aidan nodded then waited until he heard the doors on Frank’s truck slam shut before he lowered his frame into a chair he slid over next to the couch, so he could study his crumpled beauty up close. For a long time—he didn’t know how long—he just sat and watched her breathe, searching for some symptom or sign of distress from the marina water she’d inhaled. She looked so pale and wan, he wanted to go find PJ Bartow and plant a fist in his face instead of the foot to his gut for all the trauma he had caused Casey.
Aidan gently lowered his hand to Casey’s forehead, careful not to wake her. Too warm were the first words to pop into his head. He got up and headed down the hallway looking for a bathroom to get a cool cloth to put on her forehead. Lured by a nightlight in the bathroom, he dampened a washcloth he found in a cupboard and carried it back to the living room, where he eased the cloth against her forehead.
Casey started at the contact. Her eyes fluttered open. Her pupils looked larger and darker to him, probably from the concussion. Would she remember talking to him at the clinic?
Her eyes closed and fluttered back open. “Hey.”
He grinned. “Hey yourself.”
“Are we still at the clinic?”
At least, she remembered that far.
Her eyes moved as she checked her surroundings. “No . . . home.” Her eyelids fluttered closed again. “I remember now. Uncle Frank brought me home.”
“Yes, he did. Brought me here too.”
Her eyes opened again, still too slow to bank his concern.
“Why?”
What should he tell her? He knew enough not to upset her with her concussion. Bare minimum he decided.
“Don’t coddle me.” Those green eyes fixed on his in a no-nonsense stare, concussion or not. “The truth.”
“Frank wanted me to keep watch over you while he took Mamie home and then filled the prescription Dr. Davis gave him.”
Her eyes closed slowly, and a small smile turned up the corners of her lips. Luscious lips he noticed at this close range. Oh hell, she’d said be truthful. He had noticed those kissable lips when she tiptoed down the gunwale on her boat.
“He’s bossing you since he thinks you owe him because he posted your bail,” she said, her eyes still closed.
“How did—” Frank hadn’t said anything when they arrived home, just whisked Mamie out while Casey slept.
“I told him to,” she whispered.
A mere minute later, her breathing evened out. The little beauty had shocked Aidan to his toes—she had forced old generous Frank to bail him out—and then fallen asleep before he could mount a response.
Not that he minded. He could study her at length with her asleep.
He sat down on the edge of the sofa and braced an arm along the back. Casey seemed to be sleeping peacefully, no frown from pain or headache. A shudder rippled through him as he relived that brief half-minute or so underwater when he had searched for her. What if he hadn’t seen or felt that sneaker in the murky depths beneath the boat and dock? Could there still be lingering effects from her swallowing all that water?
No, he wouldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t allow anything to mar Casey’s beautiful features. He leaned in close. She was not classically beautiful. Garrett or Rhett would say, “pretty enough.”
Enough for what? Or whom?
Why had Aidan thought her one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen? His head argued not quite true. His heart claimed, “Absolutely beautiful!” And his instinct reminded, This one will be important in your life.
Could there be something to Rhett’s and Garrett’s claims of love at first sight?
Nah.
His friends vowed that cliché to be true after they fell in love, something Aidan was not going to do. He would give Casey and her Uncle Frank a leg up on their debts and then hit the road. He would just tell them he had a friend who owed him a favor and would make them a low interest loan to help out. That friend would be Aidan, of course.
Casey wriggled beneath the blanket, trying to get comfortable. He started to get up, but she settled. At this close range, the cute spray of freckles on her nose caught his attention. This may be his only chance to count them.
~ ~ ~
Casey’s head ached something fierce, and she had to muscle her way out of the darkness that latched on and tugged her back. The pain grew stronger, and she lay still, willing the pain to ebb. Consciousness returned and she concentrated on breathing out and breathing in. Within moments, the pounding dwindled. Awake now, she opted to keep her eyes closed.
The couch cushion shifted beneath her. She hadn’t moved. Someone had sat next to her on the couch. Probably Uncle Frank. She didn’t feel like talking or explaining, and he hadn’t had the chance for his full interrogation yet. Let him think she was asleep.
Her thoughts coalesced into logical focus. Mamie had been there too. No, she wouldn’t fit alongside Casey on the couch. Had the hunk really been there? Or had she dreamed all that?
No . . . images formed and cleared. The hunk had said he would help Frank keep watch tonight.
What she wouldn’t give for just one kiss before the guy rode off into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again. But she’d always have her memory. She inhaled slowly. No, the body leaning over her wasn’t Mamie or her uncle. Wrong scent.
That left the hottie.
The temperature around her increased as the body on the couch eased closer. Should she take the chance and open her eyes? Risk the pounding for another possible glimpse of the hunk who dove in to save her without a second thought? Her very own Prince Charming?
Go ahead. Just one look.
She cracked open her eyes, and the chocolate-brown ones hovering inches away widened a bit. Luckily, the big warm body didn’t move. The hunk watched her like a hawk, and the skitter up her spine wasn’t fear of being prey, more like desire to be prey. What had he said his name was?
“You’re awake.”
She nodded once and frowned. The movement cost her a few smacks from the hammer in her head.
“Did that hurt?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
He gave her the same slow, sexy smile that weakened her knees on the boat and probably assisted PJ’s wake in tossing her over the side.
“Counting your freckles. Figured it was my only chance to get this close.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Not her wittiest repartee, what with her headache and lingering sleepiness, but at least a game effort.
His smile deepened. “You wouldn’t be teasing me, would you?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
The hunk’s sensuous chuckle vibrated along her skin. Damn, but she wanted one kiss before the guy slipped over the horizon.
“I haven’t thanked you properly for saving me.”
“Well, you did at the clinic, but you were pretty out of it. I admit, I’m curious what you mean by thanking me properly.”
She couldn’t get enough of those warm, dark eyes that now twinkled with mischief. Definitely, mischief.
She tried a smile. “You tell me.”
“Weeelll.” He drew out the word as he rubbed the stubble on his chin with his free hand. The arm braced on the back of the couch allowed him to hover close.
She could feel his warm breath on her cheeks and tried to memorize his scent for later, after he was gone. The strange urge left her disconcerted since she’d never responded like this to a man before. At least, never this quickly.
Must be the concussion. Had to be the concussion.
“I’m thinking a kiss would be a proper thank you.”
Her heart skipped over one full beat in its rhythm. And she tried one more smile. “Maybe—”
Hunk grimaced. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Um, yes.”
“What?”
He’d been whispering all along in deference to her headache, but now he barked. The stab of pain in her skull came and went with the single word. His eyes widened.
“Maybe yes,” she repeated in a whisper.
His eyes narrowed. “No teasing?”
She shook her head, immediately winced.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I should kiss it and make it better since I caused it.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Here.” He placed a feather light kiss on her forehead. “And here.” Another kiss brushed across her right eye. “Then here.” The other eye.
Pulsebeats sprinted and blood whooshed through her veins.
Could that be good for a concussion?
Oh, who cares?
“And definitely here.” His voice had gone hoarse, as his lips caressed hers lightly with one smooth stroke.
No, no, no. Come back. That was too fast.
He chuckled low and deep. “I’m not done.”
Oh Lord! Had she said that out loud? Could she be more embarrassed?
And then she couldn’t think at all as his lips nuzzled hers, then pressed warm against them. His tongue lightly stroked her lower lip, and she sank back into the pillows to see if he would follow her.
Yes!
He pressed his tongue gently between her lips, and she timidly sampled his taste. Mmm. Better than chocolate. She pressed her palm to his chest, and he stilled. Did he think she would push him away?
Hardly.
This was one fabulous kiss, and she intended to make the most of it. She quickly slid her arms around his neck. He wasn’t getting away until she was good and ready.
Hunk smiled against her lips.
Oh no!
Had she said that too? No way! She hadn’t heard anything. Of course, she hadn’t heard herself the first time either.
She had to know. “Why are you smiling?”
The twinkling mischief vanished from his eyes as he gazed down at her. “Just glad my thank you was proper this time, and you’re awake enough to remember.”
“Oh, I’ll remember.” She tugged his face closer. “But it’s not over yet, is it?”
“Not by a long shot.” He stared at her now well-kissed lips and slowly lowered his mouth.
Frank’s voice boomed through the living room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Chapter 4
Aidan wasn’t sure what he would face at breakfast with th
e Stuarts. He wasn’t even certain Frank still wanted him here.
Casey, his brave beauty, had stuck up for Aidan the night before when Frank caught them wrapped up like two lovebugs in the late spring heat. She had calmly informed her uncle she was dispensing a proper thank you to Aidan for saving her life before he left the following day.
Unfortunately, her calm vanished when Frank informed her that Aidan was staying and working until his bail was paid.
To which Casey shrieked, “What?” then promptly collapsed with a whimper from the pounding in her head.
Frank forked over the prescription he’d picked up, and she was asleep in minutes. He said not a word to Aidan until he came to wake him for the second watch, and then announced that should Casey awaken and not realize what was going on, Aidan had better be too much of a gentleman to take advantage.
That of course made Aidan bristle, and Frank happily trotted off to bed safe in the knowledge his niece would be in good hands.
And so, the night had passed.
Aidan showered the next morning in his downstairs cigar-box-sized shower. He missed his eight-foot-square shower in Palm Beach with all-around jets and a bench seat for, well, just about anything. He wouldn’t mind showing Casey that shower.
Ordered to appear for breakfast at seven, he trudged up the stairs, then gaped to see Casey seated at the table with Frank. Rumpled from sleep and now glowering at him, Casey was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and Aidan needed to get his head back on straight. He’d get Ian to kick him in the ass when he took the ignition controller back to the yacht today. That should knock some sense into the more troublesome part of him.
“Good morning,” he tossed out to the occupants of the table.
Frank tugged out a chair for him with his foot. “Good morning to you too.”
Casey only mumbled something that sounded like, “Whatever.”
PAR FOR CINDERELLA Page 5
