She had her mom to thank for that idea. As her mom had predicted, once the segments covering Cassie’s visits to city charter schools started airing on ChiChat, the Chicago Public School board, which up to that point had been glacially slow to respond to her requests, contacted her immediately. Things were lining up. There was only one more duck missing to complete her row.
The pièce de résistance of her media campaign would be an interview with a board member of the Chicago Public Library, and the higher up the food chain, the better. Her goal was to unite the city’s schools and libraries in a joint endeavor on the literacy campaign, but first she needed to get the library board to make a commitment on record. So far, Cassie hadn’t gained much traction with the library officials, but she wasn’t giving up. She’d found a weakness in the school board’s armor, and if she poked around enough, she’d find what drew a reaction from the library board members too.
* * *
“What is it going to take?” Cassie groaned to her friends over margaritas. Almost a month had passed since Cassie’s run-in with Tiffany, and she was still struggling to get that last duck in line. Over the past few weeks she’d interviewed several Chicago Public School board members and filmed site visits at city schools where a pilot program of the afterschool literacy project had already been launched. And yet the powers that be at the Chicago Public Library continued to dodge her calls.
“I saw the piece you did on the pilot program, it looked great. Really promising.” Bonnie, ever the loyal cheerleader, smiled encouragingly.
“Yeah, at this point, I don’t see why you even need the library’s help.” Ana spooned some guacamole on her plate.
“Schools are only half the battle. Getting the library on board will double the outreach efforts and give kids more opportunities to engage with books. Most of the trouble kids get into happens during the hours between when school ends and parents come home from work.” Cassie plucked a chip from the basket on the table. “Library programs targeted during this time would be a win-win.”
“Makes perfect sense.” Bonnie nodded. “And you’d think the library would be all over an opportunity like this. What’s the problem?”
“Funding.” Cassie pointed her chip at Ana’s plate. “Think of that pile of guac as state funding for education.” She scooped up a healthy bite. “All these programs are fighting for their share.” She scooped up another bite and then another.
“Hey!” Ana frowned at the rapidly diminishing amount of guacamole on her plate.
“Sorry.” Cassie pushed the bowl of guac toward Ana. “That’s why I want to get the library involved, a joint venture would not only mean a joint effort but joint funding.”
“And that’s exactly why they won’t meet with you.” Sadie squeezed another lime into her water glass. “Cassie, this is Chicago. You gotta play the game, baby.”
Cassie stirred the ice in her margarita. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Do what my daddy taught me.” Sadie schooled her features and lowered her voice, mimicking her father. “Follow the money.”
“That sounds just like your dad.” Ana snorted. “It’s true, though, Cass. You gotta get ’em where it hurts. Go after the donors.”
“How is she supposed to do that?” Bonnie wondered.
“You mean the library’s benefactors,” Cassie mused out loud, spidey senses tingling. Her friends might be on to something.
* * *
“Your dad knows his shit,” Cassie told Sadie when they met up for margaritas the following Monday.
Sadie’s violet eyes twinkled. “So you followed the money?”
“I did. And hit pay dirt, literally.” Cassie licked a bit of salt from the rim of her drink. “It took some digging, but I found an annual donor who was very interested in my literacy campaign.”
“And?” Ana prodded.
“And I got a call the next day, from the secretary of the Chicago Public Library’s board herself.” Cassie grinned. “Get this, not only did she apologize for the delay in responding, but she told me the CPL would be delighted to team up with ChiChat on this reading initiative.”
“Does that mean you got your interview?” Bonnie gasped.
“I got my interview.” Cassie nodded. “With the vice president of the library’s board of directors!”
“Woo-hoo, all the way to the top, baby. Well played.” Ana raised her glass and they all joined in.
“Well, almost all the way to the top. I’d have loved to get the board president, she’s amazing, but I’m not complaining.”
“When does the big gig go down?” Sadie asked.
“Not for another month yet.” Cassie smiled. “It’s scheduled for December sixth.”
Next to her, Bonnie beamed. “Aw, that’s St. Nicholas Day.”
“I know, I’m taking it as a sign of good luck.” She’d circled the date on her coffee-stained desk calendar with a red sharpie, grinning when she’d realized it was going to happen on St. Nicholas Day. Everything was falling into place. Her ducks lining up in a beautiful, perfect row. She may have even picked up Charlie and danced with her plant around her cubicle.
“Do you know what they’re talking about?” Ana asked Sadie.
“Nope, not a clue.” Sadie cocked a golden eyebrow across the booth at Bonnie and Cassie. “I grew up in a house with both a Christmas tree and a menorah, and I have never heard of this holiday.”
“I learned about it from Cassie’s family when we were kids.” Bonnie snagged a chip from the bowl. “Involves shoes.”
“Oh?” Sadie perked up.
“And chocolate.”
“Oh, really?” Ana asked, echoing Sadie’s note of interest.
“The chocolate isn’t a requirement.” Cassie laughed, tossing back the rest of her margarita. “But seriously, guys, I can’t remember when things have gone so well for me. Professionally and personally.”
“Don’t jinx it,” Sadie warned, picking olives off her salad.
“Those are like ten calories each,” Ana said, poking Sadie. “Just eat the damn things.”
“I’ve got an audition coming up.” Sadie aimed an olive at Ana’s head before turning back to Cassie. “Everything is great with your Scot, then?” Sadie leaned across the table. “How’s his cute British friend … what was his name?”
“Theo,” Bonnie cut in. Her cupid’s bow mouth pinched for a moment before curving in the coy smile of a gossip with juicy details. “And things must be really great with Logan…” She paused for effect before continuing, “Cassie gave him my key to her apartment.”
“Oh really?” Ana gasped dramatically. “So the two of you are living in sin?”
“Not all the time.” Cassie couldn’t stop the wicked grin from creeping across her face.
“Just most of the time,” Sadie teased. “How long has it been now, two months?”
“Actually…” Cassie paused, doing some quick math in her head. “It’s been exactly two months.” She jumped up, slurping the rest of her ’rita and tossing some cash on the table. “Hey, I gotta go.”
“Ditching us for a hot date, huh?” Sadie laughed.
“If I’m lucky.” Cassie waved and headed for the door. On the way to her apartment, she dialed Logan. She knew he was probably in the middle of hosting his show, and sure enough, after a few rings, his voicemail picked up.
“Hey,” she said, a little breathless and tipsy as she hurried to catch a train, “you know what tonight is, right? Get ready to celebrate.” She glanced around, lowering her voice to a husky whisper. “Oh, and this time, remember to bring your kilt.”
* * *
Logan clicked play on the message again. At the sound of her sexy purr, he couldn’t stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face. Christ, he was a sap. Two months—had he really been in this city so long already? Time had flown. Fall in Chicago was bonny, the changing leaves a canvas of bright colors, almost as brilliant as the shades of scarlet and gold that hedged the burns and blankete
d the hills back home. Of late, the wind off the lake had a bite to it, making Logan think of Scotland more and more. A month had passed since he’d promised Theo he’d call Nettie. He’d do it soon. Tomorrow.
But tonight was for Cassie.
A few hours later, as Logan bounded up the steps of her building, he wished the lass had asked for something else. Chicago wasn’t called the Windy City for nothing. It was only a few block’s walk from the train to Cassie’s flat, but most of that was toward the lake, with nothing to stop the wind from flying up his kilt and biting his arse. To add insult to injury, his cock and balls were now bloody Baltic.
Thank God he had a warm lass waiting to heat him up.
Once in her apartment, Logan shucked off his boots, tossing them in the closet, his legs raw and chapped with cold.
“Did you wear that all the way here?” Cassie asked, surprise coloring her voice.
He turned and gave her a look. “Of course, I did. You bloody asked me to.”
“I said to bring the kilt, not wear it.” She smirked and shook her head, looking him up and down. “You must be freezing.”
“Aye, I am,” he growled. “Now get over here and make yourself useful, woman.” He lunged, reaching for her. She was wearing the dusky blue sweater dress, the one she’d been wearing that night at the Caldy.
She wiggled out of his grasp. “Your hands are like ice!”
“That’s nothing.” He stalked toward her as she backed away from him. “You should feel my cock.” He launched himself at her and she squealed, turning to run. “Lord help me,” he groaned, watching the lass’s curves shift and sway beneath the magic of her dress.
She’d headed toward the bedroom, which suited him fine. He followed on her heels, and when she dove for the bed, he caught her, collapsing on top of her. She was warm and soft and smelled delicious. He nuzzled her neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin behind her ear.
She shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Not as cold as you are.” Her hand drifted beneath his kilt and she gasped, “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding!”
“Pipe down, lass, you’ll scare the poor frozen bugger,” he warned. “Then he’ll never want to come out and play.”
Cassie giggled, and he felt the vibration of it all through his body. He loved hearing her laugh, the sound warming him as much as her touch. He rolled, pulling her on top of him.
She straddled his hips, palms braced against his chest, the tight vee of her thighs cradling him with exquisite heat. He lay back on the pillows and closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her, the weight of her body pressing down on his. The tickle of her hair on his face as she bent down to kiss him, the brush of her lips against his.
Eyes still closed, he let her take her time, her tongue exploring his mouth while her hands explored his body. Slowly, her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt loose, spreading the fabric wide. She flicked her fingers over his nipples and then trailed them slowly down the line of hair low on his belly. Everywhere she touched him his body burned, and as his temperature rose, so did his cock.
Cassie broke the kiss and shimmied lower, her breath hot against his skin. She shoved the swath of kilt up and took him into her mouth. Pure pleasure bolted through him and Logan moaned, tangling his hands in her hair while she sucked him, her lips and tongue snug and sure. Unable to stop, he arched his back, lifting off the bed as he pressed deeper into her mouth, so deep he was afraid he would hurt her. Still she took him, took more of him than he believed was possible, warm and wet and so fucking perfect.
He let her bring him to the brink before he stopped her, tugging her hair gently, urging her mouth back up to his. He kissed her, hard and deep, tasting himself on her tongue. He reached for the hem of her dress, bunching the soft fabric in his hands.
The feeling triggered a host of sensory memories, and he smiled in the shadowy cocoon of her bedroom. “You’re wearing that dress,” he said, not needing light to see what his touch remembered. In his mind’s eye he could see Cassie walking ahead of him, leading the way down the hall to her hotel room, this very dress riding up her thighs after he’d ravaged her in the lift—after they’d ravaged each other.
“You remembered,” she said, sitting up. “I was wondering if you’d notice.”
“Och, I noticed.” Logan brushed his hands up her bare legs, rucking her dress higher. “I may have been frozen as a corpse, but I’m not dead.”
She was still straddling him, rubbing against him with every shift of her body. He curled his fingers around her panties, and she helped peel the silky fabric off before settling back down on top of him. A groan of appreciation escaped him as he palmed the ripe round curves of her ass.
Cassie leaned back, pulling a condom from her nightstand. Logan watched, mesmerized, while she slipped the rubber around the swollen head of his cock, her fingers swift and sure as she rolled it down his thick hard length. When she began to tug her dress over her head, he stopped her.
“Leave it,” he growled, pulling her to him again so he could nip at her lips, at the delicate line of her jaw, tasting her in little nibbles. “I fucking love this dress,” he breathed, his hands roaming over her back, down to her waist, where he held her in place and thrust up into her.
She gasped as he entered her. “I know you do.”
He tilted his hips and rocked, groaning as the move pushed him deeper inside her. “I fucking love you.”
She stilled atop him, and he pulled back, reeling, his words hanging in the air between them, suspended in the sudden silence as neither of them moved, or even breathed. He stared up at her, searching her face, unable to read her expression in the dim light of her bedroom.
Finally, she exhaled and leaned forward. “I love you too,” she whispered in his ear, her voice low and sexy as hell. “Happy two-month anniversary.”
* * *
Later, after they’d raided the kitchen for a midnight snack, Logan drowsed on the couch, Cassie nestled against his side.
“This is nice,” she said, snuggling closer.
“It is.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, her chestnut curls tickling his cheek as he inhaled her scent, a mix of coffee beans and something softly floral. Was it strange how comfortable he’d become with a lass he’d only known two months, in a country he’d been in for less than that? Once more he was reminded of home and of his promise to call his sister.
An idea struck him, and for the second time tonight his mouth was in motion before his brain could catch up. “Would you like to come home with me, lass?”
Cassie glanced at him from beneath the shadowed crescents of her eyelashes. “What, back to your hotel room downtown?”
“No.” He chuckled. She was giving him an out, but he didn’t want to take it. He’d already jumped in the lake, might as well go for a swim. “To my family’s home, in Lochalsh.”
“Scotland?” She sat up, meeting his eyes.
“Aye. I’ve been meaning to pay Mam a visit for a while now.”
Cassie bit her lip. “I want to, but I’ve got so much going on at ChiChat … how long?”
“A few days, perhaps?” He figured he could swing a stay of three days, four at the most. Enough to appease his conscience.
“When?”
Logan shrugged. “Soon. Before the end of the month. I’ve got a wee break before we tape the final episodes of the season.”
“Hmm…” Cassie tapped a finger against her chin. “You know, that could work. I get some time off for Thanksgiving. But,” she hesitated, her brow furrowed, “I don’t want to crash a family holiday.”
“It’s an American holiday, aye?” Logan reminded her, smiling. “Though I’m sure my mam will be happy to prepare a feast for you.” He paused, suddenly shy … an alien sensation. “I’ve never brought a lass home before.” He’d never told a lass he loved her either, but she hadn’t said anything more about that moment in bed, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up now.
&nb
sp; “Never?” Cassie beamed, and it was like morning sun cresting over the brochs atop the hills back home, golden and sweet and full of promise. Suddenly, Logan couldn’t wait to be back in Scotland with Cassie by his side.
CHAPTER 23
A YEAR AGO, if someone had told Cassie she’d be spending the following Thanksgiving in the Highlands with a sexy Scot by her side, she’d have laughed and wondered if there was more than tryptophan in the turkey because they had to be tripping.
Cassie was so excited, she felt a bit high herself. She couldn’t wait to start exploring Logan’s hometown and planned to see and do as much in the three days—five, if she counted travel days—as possible. She’d done some research, okay, a lot of research, and Lochalsh looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. A harbor city bisected by the sea and skirted by the soaring hills of the Highlands, Logan’s hometown was in throwing distance of such historic landmarks as Eilean Donan Castle and Glen Shiel.
Logan handled the travel arrangements, refusing to hear a word about her paying her own way. Their flight was scheduled for Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, the flipping busiest travel day of the year. When Cassie told Logan they should head to the airport over three hours before their flight, he’d laughed. But she insisted, and she’d been right.
As expected, even at the crack of dawn, O’Hare was a circle of hell straight out of Dante’s Inferno. They trudged through international check-in, making sloths look speedy. By the time their flight got underway, she was tired and cranky and more than ready for the glass of complimentary champagne the attendant offered her.
Cassie had never flown first class before, even the perks courtesy of Sadie’s dad hadn’t stretched that far. She had to admit, she liked being pampered. She settled back in her seat and sipped her bubbly. “All right, I have to ask. How can you afford all this? I mean, I know Shenanigans was popular but…”
Getting Hot with the Scot--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 23
