She wanted the easiness of dawn. The comfort of his arms and body.
Cain leaned against the counter—his boxers lying dangerously low on his hips—with the damp towel draped across his shoulders. God. The man didn’t even have to try, and he looked like a walking commercial for Axe. She could picture it now. Hoards of women crashing through her door, slipping in through the windows, crawling over each other in an effort to get to him.
“Do you have family, Maggie?”
His question surprised her. “I…” She grabbed the towel off him and draped it over the drying rack. She wasn’t going there with him. With anyone, for that matter. Family. Her family was…
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He reached for her, but she sidestepped to avoid his touch. She knew the power that was in his hands, and at the moment she felt vulnerable. She’d be no match.
“I’m not upset.”
“I think you are.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know if I’m upset or not.”
“I think I do.”
“Jesus Christ, Cain.” She whirled around and pushed a large chunk of hair off her face. “That’s bull! You don’t know anything about me.”
“Well, you’re right about that Maggie.” He pushed away from the counter and took a step toward her. His face was no longer relaxed—his eyes were narrowed, his mouth tight. A muscle worked its way along his jaw, and she knew he was angry. “You have a habit of keeping people at arm’s length. I’ve known you for what, three weeks?” He shook his head. “And the only thing I know for sure is that you’ve raised one hell of a kid, that you’re independent, focused, and that the sight of you in that tank top is making me insane.”
“Cain, I don’t… There are things…”
“Maggie, its okay if you want to keep secrets or leave your past behind. Or run away from whatever the hell it is back there that’s got you so spooked that you’re afraid to trust. I get that.” He took a step toward her. “But don’t assume that this is casual for me. Don’t assume I don’t want to know every single detail about you. What makes you tick, where you come from, what your dreams are.”
“We had sex, Cain—”
“Ya think?”
She ignored his smile. “Lots of sex, but still, you can’t expect me to believe this isn’t something you don’t do all the time. You’re guitar singer guy. Apparently a pretty good one too, so I’m sure this kind of situation—”
“Situation?”
God, he isn’t making this easy. She blew out hot air. “Casual sex marathons.” She winced as she said the words. It made everything about the evening before cheap. And it wasn’t.
“Nothing about last night was casual…at least not for me.” His eyes flashed, and Maggie was uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation. “I’m not that guy, Maggie. If I was, I’d have hightailed it out of here last night after our third round, met the guys at the Coach House, and told them how you’re the best lay I’ve had in years.”
She bit her lip and looked away, more than a little shocked at his direct words. “There’s nothing spectacular about me, Cain. I’m just an average woman—”
“You are not an average, everyday woman.” His fingers crept up to her cheeks, and he cradled her head between his large hands. “I don’t know what reality you’re living in Maggie, but it sure as hell isn’t mine.”
The dark of his eyes expanded, their lash-framed beauty intense as he stared down at her. “You leave me breathless.”
He pulled her into his embrace, and Maggie rested her head against his chest. She was too weak to protest, and why would she? Why would any woman in her right mind push away someone like Cain? Why was she trying so hard?
She inhaled his scent, reveled in the comfort and feel of him, and the moment would have been perfect, except Shelby, Luke’s dog, decided to exercise her right to bark. And bark. And bark.
“What was that?”
Cain looked down at her. “What?”
“Didn’t you hear that noise?”
He shook his head and glanced out the window into her backyard.
“No, it came from the…” Shit! Maggie slipped from Cain’s embrace and dashed to her front room. She peeked out the window and saw Tommy’s mother, Sharon, opening the passenger door of her Volvo. The top of Michael’s curly head bopped into view, as well as Tommy’s fair one.
Sharon was parked behind Cain’s big SUV, and Maggie ducked as the woman glanced toward her house. She felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Pretty damn ridiculous, considering she was an adult. In her own home. But still, this wasn’t good.
“Oh my God, Cain. Michael’s back. I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow.” Her heart was in her throat. “You need to hide. He can’t know you’re here.” Oh God, this could not be happening.
The one time I decide to have someone stay over, I get busted by my own kid.
Cain peeked through the window and stood with his hands on his hips. She saw the smile and knew he wasn’t nearly as concerned as she. “He’s gonna know I’m here, Mags. That’s my truck in your driveway.”
The blood drained from her face. The hard reality of her night of sin stared right back at her, and the view left her sick to her stomach. Crap. She hadn’t thought of the fact that Luke, Mrs. Nichols across the street, and now Sharon would see Cain’s vehicle in her driveway.
In the morning.
Where it had sat all night. All night while she was having sex. With Cain. A sex marathon.
She groaned. If the entire town didn’t know what had transpired at 45 Linden Street the night before, they’d surely know about it soon. Superman himself would be jealous at the speed at which news like this would travel.
“You need to get dressed.” She pushed Cain toward her bedroom. “Hurry! And…” Her mind whirled in twenty-five different directions. “You just stopped by because—”
A knock sounded at the door, and Cain disappeared down the hall, but not before she caught sight of the wide grin he sported.
Maggie exhaled, smoothed the mess of long tangled hair that fell over her shoulders, and opened the door.
“Sharon,” she exclaimed as if totally surprised, “is everything all right? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“Mom! Is that Cain’s truck? Is he here?” Michael pushed past Tommy’s mother and dragged his buddy along with him.
“Michael John O’Rourke, don’t be rude. Stay where you are.” Please don’t go toward the bedrooms.
She turned back to Sharon, denial on her lips, but dropped any pretense of lying almost immediately. The woman was staring at her with an all-knowing look, her eyes doing a quick once-over from the top of Maggie’s disheveled hair to the bottom of her fancy painted toes.
“But is he here?” Michael asked.
“He stopped by to help me with something.”
Was that a snort?
She eyed Sharon closely.
“Help you with what?”
Oh God, was her own seven-year-old going to put her through the ringer?
“A plumbing issue.” Seriously? That’s the first thing that comes to mind? She cringed as the words escaped her mouth and glanced at Sharon. Okay, that was definitely a snort.
“Hey, Michael, I wasn’t expecting to see you, buddy.” Cain strode in the room fully dressed—thank God—though his attire was definitely dressy for an early-morning call. Of course Michael and his little friend would never know the difference, but Sharon sure as hell did.
Maggie may as well have taken out an ad or rented a billboard: Yes, I Had Sex with Cain Black Last Night.
Cain turned to Tommy’s mother and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sharon, isn’t it? I knew your husband from high school, but you’re not from around here, right?”
“Oh no.” Sharon giggled like a schoolgirl.
Maggie watched a host of emotions flicker across the woman’s face. Unbelievable. Give the man five seconds and he could turn a
nyone to mush.
“I met Roger in college. I’m originally from Detroit.” Her smile vanished and she turned to Maggie. “Which is why I’m here. We had to cut our camping excursion short. I got a phone call, and my father’s ill, so Roger and I are heading to Waterford, which is where he’s in the hospital. I was hoping maybe Tommy would be able to stay here with Michael. I don’t have any details about my father other than they rushed him in an hour ago.”
“Of course.” Maggie nodded. “I have a client this afternoon, but I’ll figure something out.”
“Thank you so much, Maggie.” The relief was evident in her voice. “I’ll call you later when I know what’s going on, but either Roger or I will be back for Tommy. I just don’t know when.”
Maggie followed Sharon out onto the porch. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine.”
“Tommy, you be good for Maggie, all right?” Sharon yelled back into the house.
The boys disappeared, and Cain followed the women outside. He leaned against the porch railing, and she felt his gaze on her as she walked Sharon to her car. Luke was outside, ready to head out for the day, his burly frame draped in the dark colors that the EMT officers wore. He avoided looking in her direction even as he backed out of his driveway. And nearly ran into the ditch.
Luke’s tires squealed as he peeled down the street, and her brow furled in irritation.
She glanced back at Cain. His face was split wide in a grin, one that managed to increase her irritation while making her hot and fluttery at the same time.
Maggie sighed inwardly.
In the harsh light of day, her simple world had just ramped up to complicated.
Chapter 22
“What are you now, a professional babysitter?”
Cain glanced up and had to shade his eyes from the sun as he shrugged. “Just helping Maggie out.”
Jake dropped his butt into the chair beside him and spread his long legs out on the dock. It was early afternoon. The sun was a brilliant ball of fire, and the heat was intense.
“Where’s Mac?”
“He needed to scan and email some documents back to his office in New York, so he went to town, the library, I think.” Cain was on the dock adjacent to the boathouse, his tall frame in shadow as the boys played in the water, roughing around and generally making a lot of noise.
“So…” Jake cracked a smile. “How’d it go last night with Maggie?”
Cain set his guitar beside his chair and shrugged. “It was good.”
“Good.” Jake repeated.
“I had a really good time.”
“That’s it. Just good.”
“Yup.”
“That’s all you’re gonna share.”
Cain’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah”—his eyes narrowed—“it is.”
Jake’s mouth opened wide. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Cain settled back into his chair.
“Man, are you in trouble.”
“Trouble?” He grabbed his guitar again and strummed a few chords. “How so?”
Jake stretched his arms out and rested them behind his head. “This girl means something to you, and that, my friend, means trouble. You crossed the sacred line of just sex. You’re now in the land of sex with consequence.”
“Since when did you become so damn cynical?”
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, it’s an observation. I’m just saying, the little redhead obviously means more than a quick lay to you. But she comes with baggage, in case you weren’t looking past that tight little body and mess of red hair.”
“Baggage,” he said drily.
“A kid.”
Cain frowned. He didn’t like the analogy. He glanced at Jake, but the soldier was focused on the boys. Michael was wrestling at the edge of the water, his buddy Tommy in a headlock, as the two of them struggled to get the upper hand. They rolled over and both went under, and a few choice words that neither one of their mothers would ever want to hear followed them down.
“God, they seem just like us.” Jake sighed and rolled his shoulders.
“Yeah.”
“You ever think about having kids?”
Cain stopped playing. He glanced at Jake and set the guitar down once more. To say he was surprised at the turn in conversation would have been an understatement.
“No, never.” He scratched the stubble along his jaw. “Natasha wanted one before the ink had dried on our marriage license, but I was dead set against it.” He kept his eyes on the boys. “God, if we’d had a child together, it would have been a disaster.” He eyed his friend closely. “You?”
Jake’s face was hard. “Nah. That’s one hell of a commitment, which is why…”
“Why what?” Something was up. “What the hell’s going on, Jake?”
Jake scowled. “Raine wants to have a kid.”
“A kid.” Cain let that settle a bit. This was serious shit.
“A goddamn kid.” Jake shook his head. “She’s clearly nuts.”
Cain couldn’t lie. He was shocked. “Raine wants a baby? With who?”
Jake ignored his question. “The girl can’t even look after a fucking cat. How the hell is she going to raise a kid on her own?”
“Back the truck up.” Cain swung his legs over the side of his chair. “Who the hell is she having a kid with?”
“Jesse.”
Cain was dumbfounded and confused.
“Jesse froze his junk before we shipped out last time. It’s all he talked about”—he snorted—“having a kid with Raine. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I’d look after her.” Jake shook his head. “It’s like he knew he wasn’t coming back, and he just dumped this crap on me anyway.”
“Shit.” Cain didn’t know what else to say.
“Exactly.” Jake exhaled, his eyes still on the boys.
“Is that why you’re not going back to Afghanistan?”
Something changed then. The energy around his friend darkened. Jake’s hands were clenched, his body no longer relaxed. The eyes that turned to Cain were flat—emotionless.
“I’m not going back because I’d be a detriment to my unit. The shit that happens over there, it changes you. Makes you crazy. Do stupid things.”
Cain didn’t push it. He wasn’t clear on the circumstance surrounding Jesse’s death. All he knew was what Mac had confided. That Jake had witnessed Jesse’s death, but that was about it. His friend was in a dark place, and considering his feelings for Raine, he wasn’t hopeful Jake would snap out of it anytime soon.
“So, what are you going to do?” he asked instead.
The boys ran along the beach like crazy people, their hands weapons as they pretended to shoot each other. Michael glanced over, and the smile on the kid’s face did something to Cain. His chest swelled with an emotion that was becoming a little too familiar. It was warm and fuzzy and protective all at once.
Shit. This must be some of that consequence Jake was talking about.
“I gotta do something. All this downtime is driving me crazy. Too much time to think.” He paused and then muttered, “Too much time to remember.” Jake looked out over the lake. “I’m thinking of diving into the construction project for the new football field and stadium. They want a state-of-the-art facility, and Dad’s company won the bid.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been a hands-on kind of guy. Mac might be on board to design the thing.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Jake glanced his way, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight. “I didn’t think so,” he said drily. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about Raine. She’s stubborn as hell, and personally I think she’s crazy to even consider having a baby on her own.” His eyes darkened, and a bleak look crept into his features. “I don’t know if I can be the one to be there for her.”
Why the hell would Jesse put that on his brother? He had to have known Jake’s feelings for Raine ran deep. Or maybe that was the reason.
“What about you?” Jake asked, the heav
iness of the moment gone. It was eerie how the man could switch gears so quickly. “You gonna tell me what the hell Barcelona was about?” Jake stared at him expectantly. Cain saw no reason to sugarcoat.
“Blake was fucking Natasha.”
“Shit, that’s low.”
“Yeah.”
“You should have given him the boot after decking him.”
Cain leaned back. “Agreed.” He paused. “She called a few hours ago—Nat.”
“What did she want?”
Cain shook his head, still surprised as hell himself. “Said she’d made a mistake about Blake and the divorce. All of it. According to her, I should give her a second chance, ’cause apparently we’re soulmates, she just didn’t know it till now.”
Jake grimaced. “I hope you told her where to go.”
“I did.”
“Good. So what are your plans?”
Plans. The future. Cain had no clue.
“I’m here at least until after the Fourth of July. Not due back in the studio until the fall.”
“So, you’re heading back to LA after the big”—Jake made quotation marks with his fingers—“stadium show?”
Cain’s thoughts turned to Maggie. Was he? Could he leave just like that? Did he even want to? The idea left him more than a little unsettled.
“I’m not sure what my plans are. I need to get some new material written or…” He ran fingers along his temple and sighed.
“Or what?”
“I’m screwed…the band is screwed.”
Jake grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, you better get your ass in gear and get writing.”
If only it were that easy.
“Cain! Look what I found.” They both turned as Michael came running up the beach, a large bass dangling from his hand. The little guy stopped inches from them, his small chest heaving and his face flush with excitement. He pushed wet curls from his face with his free hand and shoved his prize up high. “Look how big it is! I never saw a fish like this. What kind is it?”
“Dude, that would be a dead fish.” Jake chuckled.
Michael frowned, wrinkled his nose, and giggled. “I know its dead. It stinks worse than Shelby when she’s wet.”
The Summer He Came Home Page 19
