by Karen Rigley
Grant’s lungs squeezed shut, his chest and heart aching as he caught sight of Jami’s copper hair. A mermaid in blue jeans, she undulated dolphin-style through the lake water chasing the tiny boat.
Cupping his hands around his mouth, Grant called Jami’s name, to no avail. She kept swimming toward danger, gaining on the damn boat. He turned to Toby. “Don’t you dare put one foot back in this water, partner. Not for any reason. I’m going after your mother.”
“Yes, sir!” Toby replied, plopping down to sit in the dirt and pull off his wet socks and sneakers. “I’m sorry about your teeny gold man.”
“What?”
“I used it for my captain because it fit just right.”
“We’ll talk about Cupid later,” Grant snapped, as Jami disappeared underwater for a heart-stopping moment. “Right now your mother is my priority.”
“I didn’t mean to be bad.” Toby’s freckled face scrunched. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and he bit his trembling lower lip.
“Just stay put,” Grant cautioned too harshly, caught in his own concern for Jami’s safety.
“I promise.”
With that, Grant launched into the lake. A vigorous swimmer, he swiftly cut through the water, his mind, muscle, and heart consumed with one objective—Jami.
Jami swam through the fishy lake, her kick awkward, thanks to her sneaker-clad feet. Her total attention focused, she watched the toy boat rock and tilt drunkenly upon the waves, sunshine reflecting off the golden Cupid cradled inside. Thank heavens, the family heirloom was still afloat and nearly within reach. Jami moved deeper into the dark swirling waters, but the closer she got to the boat, the faster it drifted away. The tiny craft raced forward, suddenly drawn into a mad spin. Cupid still held fast as the miniature craft fought to remain upright.
Entering the whirlpool, Jami felt the current tearing at her, dragging her body with unseen power. She battled the underwater forces, drawing on strength, faith, and pure stubbornness. Her muscles screamed in protest, her lungs burned as water swamped over her, breaking her breathing pattern.
Battered by the swirling waters, Jami lost sight of the boat. When her face again broke surface and she gasped for air, she felt the wooden craft just beyond her fingertips. She grasped at it, but merely captured a handful of water. The boat spurted away and she pursued it, mindless of her own personal danger.
Nature cruelly reminded her. The dizzying undercurrent sucked her down, again and again, not allowing her to breathe. Jami knew she was a strong swimmer, yet the lake now encompassed her with so much power she could not break free.
A tiny dark object drifted down through the water in front of her. Cupid! Toby’s boat must have capsized and the brooch fallen overboard. She had to save the golden charm!
Limbs heavy, her lungs feeling as though they would burst, Jami concentrated on her mission. But she needed air. The lake spun and swirled around her, her thoughts fuzzing, whirling with the water.
She must reach the surface. She must have oxygen! Jami kicked harder, fighting upward, her every move warring with the monstrous water. Her tortured mind and body screamed her need for air. Lights seem to burst inside her head as pressure built with excruciating intensity. She must breathe. Or explode.
Suddenly Grant appeared, lifting her, freeing her, holding her.
“Grant!” His name escaped as a hoarse gasp on her lips. Jami clung to him, his warm hard body, a solid sanctuary as he towed her out of the swirling whirlpool into the calm lake water beyond. Overcome by joy, Jami momentarily forgot her anger toward Grant and the hurt he had caused her. She needed him and he was there, strong and caring, tender, and so potently male.
Within seconds, it seemed to Jami, they reached the shallows where she stumbled ashore, leaning on Grant for support.
He roughly spun her to face him, his midnight gaze raking over her. “You crazy fool,” he finally growled. “You could have drowned.”
“I had to save your grandmother’s Cupid pin,” Jami choked, even amid the crisis, drinking in his handsome features as she clung unsteadily to him.
“No family heirloom is worth your life,” Grant groaned, pulling her into his sodden embrace. Against her ear, he murmured, “Stubborn redhead, how could you expect to rescue one tiny piece of jewelry caught in whirlpool turbulence powerful enough to spawn lake monster legends?”
“I don’t believe in monsters.” Laughing and choking, Jami held up her hand to show him the charm. “I saved Cupid!”
Grant stared down at Jami, her beautiful hair corkscrewed into wet dark copper curls framing her face as she gazed at him with those exotic eyes. “You’re amazing.”
“Yes, aren’t I?” Jami impishly grinned up at him, the golden Cupid dancing from her fingertips as she dangled the brooch.
“I’ve never known such a wonderful, maddening, remarkable woman. Or such a crazy one,” he replied, feeling her soft breasts pressed against his chest, their hearts thundering in unison. “You’re a woman in a million.”
She was merely one woman out of many, his words reminded her as fury and hurt renewed to strike her like a tidal wave. “Maybe you haven’t known the right woman,” Jami answered frostily, her body tensing as she pushed away.
Grant released Jami, startled by her icy response. What had he said?
“And I’m not crazy. My son took Cupid, and it was my responsibility to return the jewelry safely.” Ice dripped from every word and Grant felt Jami distance herself, though they still stood within arms reach.
“Mom, you did it!” Toby cried, running and splashing barefooted through the shallow water to fling himself at his mother, encircling Jami’s waist to squeeze her tight. “You’re the best.”
Grant watched mother and son, buffeted by a myriad of emotion as he stepped away from the touching reunion. He’d never been so terrified in his life as when he saw Jami caught in that whirlpool current. She nearly died! Damn, he loved the woman!
Without hesitation, he had risked his life to save her. And he would do it again. A mental movie of the horror when he’d thought he would lose her replayed through his mind, chilling his heart and soul. Though she now stood safe, Grant had the overwhelming feeling he’d still lost her.
Witnessing the unshakable bond between Jami and Toby, Grant felt empty inside. He wished he could be included in their circle of love. With aching heart, he wished they were his family—his wife and his son. Nearly losing them had made that painfully clear.
He wrung out the tail of his soggy shirt and sloshed ashore. Alone. Grant Carrington’s glorious bachelor existence didn’t feel so glorious anymore.
It felt damn lonely.
“Hey, Grant!” Toby called.
He whipped around to face the boy. “What, Toby?”
The child scampered from his mother to Grant, thrusting something into Grant’s palm. “Here’s your bow-and-arrow guy back. Mom says to wash him with rubbing alcohol, and he’ll be all clean and shiny again. I’m sorry I took him.”
“I am, too.” Grant’s fingers slid over Cupid’s surface, the smooth curves and sharp edges. This was only a piece of jewelry. It possessed no magical powers. It was no love charm to cast spells or reunite Grant with the woman of his dreams. No matter how he’d come to wish otherwise, Cupid could not make Jami love him.
But at least she was alive. Fist closing over Cupid, Grant stared down at Toby. “You were wrong to take something without permission, and I want you to promise not to do it again.”
“Okay.” Bare feet planted slightly apart, the child nodded and gulped as he gazed up at Grant.
Jami was limping slightly as she moved past them. Grant reached out to her, but she knocked his hand away and kept walking.
“Did I apologize enough?” Toby asked, bouncing on his heels as if he also couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“Do you realize,” Grant continued, “your mischief almost cost your mother her life?”
“I said I was sorry!”
“Maybe
sorry isn’t enough,” Grant replied, thinking of what could have happened to Jami.
Toby’s bottom lip trembled, his eyes filled with hurt, and exhaustion welled into tears. “You hate me, don’t you?”
Stunned into silence, Grant watched as the sobbing boy ran into the woods and disappeared from sight. Grant considered slamming his fist into the nearest tree. He hadn’t meant to take his anger out on the child.
“What happened?” Jami demanded, halting at the waterline. Her body taut as a rattler ready to strike, she stared at Grant through wounded, accusing eyes.
“Toby thinks I hate him,” Grant answered incredulously. How had he made such a mess of his relationship with Jami and her son?
“I don’t see him. Where did he go?” she demanded, looking behind Grant to search for her son.
“Toby ran into the woods.” He internally groaned as she gasped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hard on him.”
“He’s my son. It’s my place to discipline him, not yours.” Jami started for the woods, but he grabbed her wrist.
“He’s just letting off steam.”
She jerked free. “We have to go after Toby. If my son gets lost, it’s your fault!”
Grant recoiled from the bitter hurt in Jami’s face and the pain her words stabbed into his heart. “He only has a minute head start, he can’t get lost.”
“Oh, sure. He’s not yours. I need to find my son, and you’re costing me time.”
“You don’t have to handle everything by yourself, Red.”
“I do.” She stared hard at Grant, her defiance vibrating the air between them.
“No, you don’t. I’m going to help you. Come on, let’s go.”
He grasped her hand tight, allowing no room for argument, then, jogging, led Jami into the woods after her son. Calling Toby’s name, they tracked into the woods. Grant suspected the boy was in earshot, but refusing to answer. “I think he’s hiding from us.”
“Hiding from you. Just leave.” Jami jerked her hand from his and stomped through the brush ahead. “I’ll find my son myself.”
“Why do you always act so damned independent? We all need to turn to someone at times. Why not turn to me?”
“Like you’d be there.”
“I’d try.”
“I doubt it.”
Jaw hardening, Grant swallowed a lump of frustration. After another twenty minutes of searching, he halted to grab Jami by the damp waistband of her jeans. “We’re turning back.”
“You turn back. I’ll find Toby.” She reached behind her to brush at Grant’s hand as if it were an annoying gnat.
He let go and blew out a frustrated breath. “A bare-footed six-year-old, unfamiliar with these woods, couldn’t have gotten farther. We’ve missed him, so we need to backtrack.”
Lifting her chin, Jami spun away from him, calling for Toby. She plowed ahead, shoulders slumped and hair every which way, but not limping as much as before.
“Stop.” Grant closed the distance between them in quick, determined strides and snagged her arm. “No deeper into the woods. We’ve passed Toby and have to turn back. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Jami challenged, spinning to face him. “Why should I? You didn’t trust me to discipline my own child. You had to interfere, and now he’s lost.” Her voice broke on the last word.
“I wasn’t usurping your parental authority,” Grant replied, turning Jami around to guide her back toward the lake. “I was purely reacting to the crisis.”
Lips compressed and amber eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Jami mutely stared back at him.
A whimpering sob shattered the silence.
“Toby!” Jami whispered, whirling toward the sound like radar.
“There!” Grant hurdled over a boulder to land by a bush-encircled patch of tall mountain grass. “Sound asleep,” he added in wonder as he knelt beside the boy curled upon the wild grass.
Toby shifted and whimpered again. “Poor kid’s crying in his sleep.”
“My baby,” Jami cried softly, bending to stroke Toby’s flushed cheek.
“He must’ve been hiding from us and fell asleep,” Grant said, stilling her hand with his own. “Don’t wake him. I’ll carry Toby back.”
“I can carry my own son.” Jami’s chin jutted high.
“Get real, Red.”
“I could if I had to.”
“Well, you don’t. Stop trying to be superwoman.”
“Keep your voice down, or you’ll wake Toby.” Jami bit her lip as if still unconvinced. She stroked the hair off her son’s forehead, appearing fragile herself as she tenderly examined the pads of his bare feet. “I want to hold him.”
“No. I’ll take him. Toby’s too big for you to lug through the woods and back to the lodge.” Grant shot her a frown. “You know that.”
“Okay,” she grudgingly agreed. “But be careful.”
“Of course.” Scooping Toby into his arms, Grant cradled the boy against his chest, then stood. “You go ahead to retrieve his shoes and socks and tell the others we found him safe.”
Jami opened her mouth as if to argue, but turned and dashed down the trail.
“I’ll be just behind you.”
Dirt and tear-tracks streaked the child’s face and left-over sobs rattled his warm little body as Grant held the boy close.
Led by Jami, Grant hurried through the lodge and entered the suite, then crossed through to the inner bedroom and deposited the boy onto the bed.
“Jami, we have to talk,” Grant said softly as he turned away from the sleeping child, who sighed and snuggled into the bed.
“No we don’t,” Jami retorted. “Ever!” Shaken by what could have happened to her child, she blamed Grant, and the air between them remained as frigid as the Rockies in January.
“I don’t understand what’s happened between us.” Grant raked a hand through his damp hair, new lines carved into his handsome face. “Please explain what’s upset you.”
“My little boy ran away,” Jami raged, smothering the sob in her voice. “And you wonder why I’m upset!”
“Toby’s fine, but you could have drowned,” Grant argued. “It was hell seeing you get caught in that whirlpool.”
“Like you’d even miss me.” Jami turned her back on Grant and dropped to the bed where she began removing Toby’s wet clothes with a gentle touch to keep from waking her son.
“Not miss you?” Grant groaned. “Are you crazy?”
“Why don’t you get out of my room? Go find someone else to torment.”
“You’re the one tormenting me,” he growled, moving with panther swiftness to reach her side, sweeping her up into his arms. “You kiss me, then turn into an ice princess. I don’t understand you, Jami Rhodes.”
Her breath caught as he lowered his head.
His warm, masterful mouth possessed hers in a kiss that melted Jami’s insides. All thoughts vanished as she reveled in the feel of Grant’s velvety tongue slide against hers.
Toby let out a soft cry, bringing her to her senses. She planted her hands against Grant’s chest and pushed. “Let me go.”
He stiffened. “Why not?” Grant’s harsh voice raked up Jami’s spine as he released her. “You were never mine to hold, were you?”
He stalked out of the bedroom, snapping the door shut behind him.
Jami flung Toby’s soaked shirt at the door as it closed. The material hit the wood, then plopped to the floor with a splat.
“Mom?” Toby sat up in his underwear, jarred out of playing possum. “Why are you throwing my clothes at Grant?”
“You are awake.” Jami blinked down at her son, embarrassed he’d witnessed her tantrum. Not knowing how to answer his question, she took refuge in her role as mother. “You need to get cleaned up. I don’t want you to catch cold.”
“Did you catch a cold swimming in the lake when you went after my boat? Is that why your nose is red and you’re crying?” Toby asked, concern in his big brown eyes as he studied his mother i
n a manner too mature for his six years.
“It’s possible,” she fudged, turning from him to get a tissue from a box on the dresser.
“You need to clean up first, Mom.” Toby studied her with a critical eye. “I can wait a while.”
“Maybe I will,” Jami agreed, the fight draining out of her.
“Grant was mad at me ‘cause he likes you,” Toby stated, wrapping his arms around his bare knees. “He was afraid you’d drown, wasn’t he?”
“Well, I didn’t.” Jami gazed at her son, suddenly wondering if he saw the situation more clearly than she could. “I’m fine, you’re fine, and Grant’s Cupid charm is fine.”
“He loves you, Mom. I can tell.”
“You’re a child. You don’t understand such things,” Jami replied, shocked at his statement.
“If you marry Grant, will he be my daddy?” Toby asked, his round freckled face hopeful.
“Grant doesn’t want to marry me.” Jami paced around the room, her wet sneakers squishing into the carpet. She ached everywhere. Her arms were scratched and bleeding, just like her heart.
“Why not? Doesn’t he want to be my daddy?” Toby asked, his eyes wide as he followed his mother’s progress back and forth across the bedroom.
“It’s not you, sweetheart, it’s me Grant doesn’t want.” Jami pivoted around, catching a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Her hair plastered down in soggy curls, her wet shirt and jeans clung to her body, and her smeared mascara rimmed her eyes in clown black. She looked awful. And she felt worse.
Jami tried to hide her tears from her son, then noticed him squeeze his eyes shut to sniff back a sob of his own. “If I’d been good, you wouldn’t be fighting with Grant.” A tremor in his voice, Toby added, “And you wouldn’t be so sad.”
“It’s not your fault, tiger.” Jami hated to see the answering hurt in his eyes.
“You were happy when we all played in the lake.” Toby blinked up at his mother. “I was happy, too. I like it when you, me, and Grant are together.”
“Some things aren’t meant to be,” Jami said, heading into the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Hi, Grant.”
Grant glanced up at Toby standing in the bedroom doorway. “Feeling better?”
