by Nora Roberts
This time, when Rafe called out, Devin got to his feet. Yeah, he thought, he’d batter up, all right. God knew he needed to hit something.
There was something intrinsically satisfying about smacking a little white ball with a slim wooden bat. It was the connection, the way the power of it sang up the arms. It was the sound, the solid crack, the whoosh of air, the rising cheers as the ball lifted.
He was feeling human by the time he rounded third and headed for home. More than human, since it turned out to be Shane guarding the plate. His lips peeled back in a feral grin matching his brother’s as he went into a hard, bruising headfirst slide.
There was the brutal collision of flesh and bone, the swirl of choking dust, the hysterical screams of fans and teammates. He heard Shane grunt as his elbow whipped around to catch his brother in the ribs, beside the padded catcher’s vest. He saw stars as some bony part, probably Shane’s knee, caught him beside the ear.
But what he heard over it all was the glorifying call of “Safe!”
“I’ll be damned.” Shane had managed to hold on to the ball that Jared had bulleted to him, even after the nasty collision. “I tagged the sucker,” Shane insisted, waving the ball for emphasis.
Cy, the umpire, hung tough. “You weren’t on the plate, Shane. Devin was. You didn’t get the tag in time.”
That, of course, was tantamount to a declaration of war.
From the sidelines, Savannah watched the very polished attorney Jared MacKade go nose-to-nose with the town’s mayor, while her brothers-in-law shouted at each other, and anyone else who happened to get in the way.
“I love picnics,” Savannah commented.
“Mmm… Me too.” Regan stretched her arms. “They’re so relaxing.” She smiled up at Cassie, who stepped under the shade with them. “Don’t worry,” she said, noting the way Cassie hugged her arms. “They won’t hurt each other. Very much.”
“I know.” She tried not to be so poor-spirited. The MacKades were always yelling. But she hugged herself tighter when she saw Connor and Bryan race up to get a piece of the action.
“Don’t worry,” Regan said again.
“No, I won’t.”
It was good, wasn’t it, that Connor could race and shout that way? He’d been too quiet for too long. Too worried, she thought guiltily. He was coming into himself more and more every day. And if picking sides over a baseball call made him happy, then no, she wouldn’t let herself worry.
It was over soon enough, with vows of revenge and retaliation. She watched Bryan do a victory boogie, then nag until he was allowed up to the plate. Devin picked up a mitt, bent over and said something that had Connor goggling with pleasure. Her son raced into the outfield and joined the game.
“He’s awfully good with children,” Cassie murmured. “Devin,” she added.
“Every time he comes by the house, he has Nate on his hip the minute he steps through the door.” Regan smiled down at her son, who was busy chewing on a bright red teething ring. “He’s bleeding.”
Alarmed, Cassie looked down at Nate. “Where?”
“No, I meant Devin. His mouth’s bleeding. Anyone got a tissue?”
“I do.” Cassie pulled one out of her pocket.
As she hurried over to where Devin was walking to the outfield, Regan grinned. “She hasn’t figured it out yet, has she?”
“Nope.” Savannah leaned back against the tree. Layla was napping, and that seemed like a wonderful idea. “He’s going to have to do something a little more obvious for her to realize he’s crazy about her.”
“He’s the only MacKade I know who moves slow.”
Savannah arched a brow before she closed her eyes. “I’ll bet he moves fast enough when the time comes. Cassie won’t have a chance.”
“No,” Regan said softly. “She’ll have the best chance of her life.”
Out of breath from the effort of catching up with his long strides, Cassie called out, “Devin! Wait a minute!”
He glanced around, saw her rushing after him and did what he’d trained himself to do. He put his hands in his pockets. “What?”
“Your mouth. Gosh, you must be all leg,” she managed, puffing, when she stopped in front of him.
“My mouth?”
“It’s bleeding.” In practiced maternal gestures, she dabbed at the corner of his mouth. “I saw you dive headfirst into Shane. I had to close my eyes. You’re lucky you only cut your lip doing something that crazy. It’s only a game.”
“It’s baseball,” he reminded her, and struggled not to groan as her fingers gently soothed the wound he hadn’t even been aware of. “I got the run.”
“Yes, I know. I’m learning all the rules and terms. RBIs and ERAs. Connor’s so excited about playing. It was sweet of you to let him go into left field.”
“Right. Right field,” Devin managed as his heart jitterbugged in his chest. He kept his hands balled into fists in his pockets. “Cassie, I’m fine.”
It was the tone, the sharp impatience in it, that had her stopping. “You are mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you. Damn it, I’m not mad. Look.” Frustrated beyond belief, he snatched the blood-spotted tissue from her hands. “What’s this?”
“It’s blood. I told you your mouth—”
“Blood,” he said, interrupting her. “That’s what I’ve got in my veins. Blood, not ice water. So if you’re going to keep leaning up against me and putting your hands on my face, I—” He cut himself off, clenched his teeth. “I’m not mad,” he said, more calmly. “I need to take a walk.”
Cassie gnawed at her lip as he strode away into the little grove of trees that lined the east side of the park. The idea of losing his friendship gave her all the courage she needed to follow him.
He stopped, turned, and the heat in his eyes was like an arrow in her heart. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry, Devin.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry to me, Cassie, you have nothing to apologize for.” Where the hell was everybody? he asked himself. Why weren’t there people in the grove? He couldn’t risk being alone with her now, when he didn’t have himself under complete control. “Go on back, Cassie. Go on, now.”
She started to. It was second nature for her to do as she was told. But she couldn’t, not this time. Not when it was so important. “If you’re not mad, then you’re upset. I don’t want to be the cause of that.”
It was hard, almost terrifying, to step forward, when there was still temper simmering in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, of course she knew, but there was a part of her that couldn’t be entirely sure. But for Devin she’d risk it.
“It’s because I kissed you,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The temper drained from his eyes. They were blank now, carefully blank. “I know you didn’t.”
“You kissed me back.” Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself speak. “You said you were angry with yourself for doing it, but I don’t want you to be. I didn’t mind.”
“You didn’t mind,” he repeated, spacing out the words. “Okay. We’ll put it aside. Go on back now.”
“Why did you kiss me like that?” The words ended on a whisper as her courage began to flag.
“Like I told you, you caught me off guard.” When she only continued to stare at him with those big, soft eyes, he felt something snap. “Damn it, what do you want from me? I apologized, didn’t I? I said it wouldn’t happen again. I’m trying to stay away from you, and it’s killing me. I’ve waited to kiss you for twelve years, and when I do I practically eat you alive. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Her knees were starting to shake, but it didn’t feel like fear. She knew fear well enough to recognize it. But whatever this was that was working through her was unfamiliar.
“You didn’t hurt me.” She had to swallow. “I didn’t mind. I don’t mind.”
He was trying to get a bead on her, but wasn’t sure of his aim. “I want to kiss you
again.”
“I don’t mind,” she repeated, because it was the best she could do.
She didn’t move as he stepped toward her, had no idea if she should touch him. She would have liked to run her hands up those arms, they were so strong. But she wasn’t sure.
Then she didn’t have to worry, or think, or try to guess. He laid his hands on her cheeks, framing her face, and lowered his mouth to hers, so gently, so patiently.
Her heart fluttered, and the sensation was sweet, like something flying silently out of a cage when the door has been opened unexpectedly. When he drew her closer, just a little closer, she thought she floated toward him. Her lips parted on a sigh of quiet wonder.
This was what he meant to do, always. Show her tenderness and care. Let himself slide into her, slowly, gently. The dappled shade was perfect, sweetened by the call of birds and the tang of wildflowers.
This was what he’d meant to do, he thought hazily, and deepened the kiss with patient skill until she sighed again.
And all the years he’d waited and wanted seemed like minutes, now that she was here, with him.
The sound of the shouts and laughter from the field beyond was like the buzz of happy bees in her head. She didn’t realize she’d lifted her hands, curled them around his wrists, until she felt the strong quick beat of his pulse against her fingers. She held on as lovely colors began to revolve in her head, as the kiss went on and on, spinning out time.
He didn’t let her go until her hands had slipped weakly from his wrists to fall to her sides.
Her eyes were still closed when he lifted his head, when he moved his hands from her face to her shoulders. As he watched, she pressed her lips together, as if to draw in that last taste, and savor it.
“Cassie.”
She opened her eyes, and they were heavy and clouded and confused. “I don’t know what to say now.” Yes, she did, she realized. “Will you kiss me again?”
Twelve years of repression kept him from groaning out loud. “Not just this minute,” he said, and held her at arm’s length. Any closer, and he might just toss her over his shoulder and carry her off behind some handy rock. He wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that. “I figure we ought to spread it out a little.”
“No one’s ever kissed me like that. Made me feel like this.”
“Cassie.” The words had his libido growing fangs. Snapping down on it, he took her hand. “Let’s go back. I…haven’t had lunch.”
“Oh, you must be starving.”
“Right.” He could almost laugh at himself as he pulled her back onto the field.
Chapter 5
“I really appreciate this, Cassie.” Regan tucked a giggling Nate into his portable swing, then bent over to kiss him as he bounced gleefully. “With out-of-town clients coming into the shop this morning, I just can’t keep him with me. And Rafe’s got two crews to supervise.”
“It’s a real hardship,” Cassie said from the sink. “I can’t think of anything more annoying than having to play with the baby.”
“He is wonderful, isn’t he? I can’t believe he’s already five months old.” When she cranked up the music on the swing, Nate began to kick his feet in delight. “I nursed him an hour ago, and I’ve got plenty of bottles here, and diapers, and two changes of clothes, and—”
“Regan, I know what to do with a baby.”
“Of course you do.” Grinning foolishly at Nate, Regan swept her hair back. “It’s just that I know you’re so busy with the inn.”
“You and Rafe are slave drivers, it’s true, but I’m learning to bear up.”
Amused, Regan cocked her head. “You’re joking, and you’re smiling, and I’m pretty sure I heard you singing when I came in.”
“I’m happy.” Cassie loaded plates into the dishwasher. The breakfast hour was over, and the guests were either gone or relaxing in their rooms. “I didn’t know I could be this happy. This is the most wonderful house in the world.”
Regan handed Nate a ring of colorful plastic to jiggle. “So working here makes you happy?”
“Absolutely. Not that I wasn’t happy working for Ed, but…I love living here, Regan.” She beamed at the view from the window. “The kids love living here.”
Regan ran her tongue around her teeth. “And that’s why you were singing?”
Cassie bent over a little farther, busied herself arranging dishes. “Actually, there is something else. I guess you’ve got to go open the shop.”
“I’ve got a few minutes. One of the perks of running my own business.”
If there was anyone she could talk to, it was Regan. Cassie straightened, took a deep breath. “Devin—it’s about Devin. That is, I’m probably making too much of it. Or not making enough of it. It’s just, well… Do you want some coffee?”
“Cassie.”
“He kissed me,” she blurted out, then slapped a hand to her mouth when a laugh bubbled out. “I mean, kissed me. Not like Rafe kisses me, or Shane or Jared. I mean, like… My hands are sweating.”
“It’s about time,” Regan said, with feeling. “I thought he’d never get to it.”
“You’re not surprised.”
“Cassie, the man would crawl naked over hot coals for you.” She decided she would have some coffee, and walked over to the stove to pour it herself. “So, how was it?”
Regan’s statement had Cassie running a nervous hand through her hair. “How was what?”
With a chuckle, Regan sipped and leaned back against the counter. “I have to figure that he has more in common with Rafe than a quick temper and great looks. So it must have been a pretty terrific kiss.”
“It was at the picnic, two days ago. My head’s still buzzing.”
“Yep. That’s a MacKade for you. What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know what to do.” Brow creased, Cassie picked up a damp rag and began to wipe the counter. “Regan, I started going with Joe before I was sixteen. I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“Oh.” Regan pursed her lips. “I see. Well, it would be only natural to be a little nervous over the idea that you might be heading toward a physical relationship.”
Because her palms were indeed damp, Cassie set down the cloth and rubbed them on her apron. “I don’t like sex,” she said flatly, rattling dishes again so that she didn’t note the lift of Regan’s brow or the concern in her friend’s eyes. “I’m not any good at it, and I just don’t like it, anyway.”
“Cassie, I know the counseling helped you.”
“Yes, it did, and I’m grateful for you persuading me to go. I feel better about myself, and I’m more confident about a lot of things. I know I didn’t deserve to be abused, that I didn’t cause it, and that I did the right thing by getting out.” She let out a breath. “This is a different matter. Not all women are built to enjoy sex. I’ve read about it. Anyway,” she continued before Regan could comment, “I’m getting ahead of myself. But I’m not stupid, Regan. I know that Devin has needs, and I’m prepared to meet them.”
“That is stupid,” Regan snapped. “Making love is not supposed to be a chore like—like…” Flustered, she gestured to the sink. “Like doing the damn dishes.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” Because Regan was her friend, she smiled. “What I meant was that I care for Devin. I always have. This is a different level. I didn’t know he was attracted to me. I’m so flattered.”
Regan’s response to that was a muttered curse that only made Cassie’s smile widen.
“Well, I am. He’s so beautiful, and he’s kind. I know he won’t hurt me.”
“No,” Regan said quietly. “He wouldn’t hurt you.” But, she thought, would you hurt him?
“Kissing him was lovely, and I think having sex with him would be nice.”
Wisely, Regan covered her cough with a sip of coffee. If Devin was anything like Rafe, nice was hardly the word. “Has he asked you to bed?”
“No. He wouldn’t even kiss me again when I asked him
to. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. How do I go about letting him know I don’t mind being with him—that way?”
It was a tribute to her willpower that Regan didn’t goggle. Carefully she set the coffee cup aside. “This goes against the grain for me, Cassie, against every feminist cell in my body, but I have to trust my instincts here, and go with what I know about you and about Devin. I’m going to advise you to let him set the pace, at least initially. Take your cues from him. Just relax and enjoy the ride. I think you can count on him to get you both where you want to go. When you’re ready, Cassie. It’s important to think of yourself, too, not just Devin.”
“So I really shouldn’t do anything?”
“Do what seems right to you. And do this—don’t compare him with Joe. And don’t compare the woman who lived with Joe with the woman you are now. I think you’re in for a few surprises.”
“I’ve already had one.” Cassie touched a fingertip to her lips. “It was wonderful.”
“Good. Keep an open mind.” She gave Cassie a quick kiss, bent down to fuss over Nate one last time. “And, Cass, I really wouldn’t mind if you sort of kept me up-to-date with the progress.”
By mid-afternoon, Cassie had finished the guest rooms, and the laundry, and had Nate tucked in a portable crib in Emma’s room for a nap. She’d slipped a chicken in the oven to roast and was giving some thought to tackling the mending when she heard the quick rap on her door.
Her heart did a little flip at the hope that it might be Devin stopping by. But settled again when she saw her mother through the screen.
“Hello, Mama.” Dutifully Cassie opened the door and pecked her mother’s dry cheek. “It’s nice to see you. I’ve just made some iced tea, and I have some nice cherry cobbler.”
“You know I don’t eat sweets in the middle of the day.” Constance Connor scanned the living area of her daughter’s quarters. She wrinkled her nose at the cat that curled under the table. Animals belonged outside.
The curtains were drawn back, which would surely fade the upholstery with that strong sunlight. But it was neat. She’d taught her daughter to be neat.
After all, cleanliness was next to godliness.
Still, she didn’t care for the bright colors, or all the folderols sitting about. It was showy. She sniffed to indicate her disapproval and sat down on one of the living room chairs, her back broomstick-straight.
“I’ll say again, it’s a poor choice for you to live in a man’s house who isn’t your husband.”
It was an old argument, and Cassie answered by rote. “I lived in Mr. Halleran’s house for nearly ten years.”
“And paid good rent.”
“I earn my keep here. What’s the difference?”
“You know very well the difference, so I’ll not mention it again.”
Until the next time, Cassie thought wearily. “Would you like some iced tea, Mama?”
“I can get through an hour without sipping or snacking.” Constance set her purse firmly on her lap, crossed her ankles above her sensible shoes. “Sit down, Cassandra. The children are in school, I take it.”
“Yes. They’re doing very well. They’ll be home in about an hour. I hope you’ll stay and see them.”
“It’s you I’ve come to see.” She unsnapped her bag with fingers adorned with only a thin gold band. There was no glint to it, no shine. As, Cassie thought, there had been no glint or shine to her parents’ marriage. She often thought, after a visit with her mother, that her father had died simply to escape it.
But she said nothing, waiting as her mother drew out an envelope. She didn’t have to see the handwriting to know who it was from.
“This is the latest letter I received from your husband. It came in this morning’s mail.” Constance held it out. “I want you to read it.”
Cassie folded her hands in her lap, linked her fingers. “No.”
Eyes narrowed with righteous anger, Constance studied her daughter. “Cassandra, you will read this letter.”
“No, ma’am, I won’t. He’s not my husband.”
Constance’s thin, pale face went dark with temper. “You took vows before God.”
“And I’ve broken them.” It was hard, so hard, to keep her voice and hands from trembling, to keep her eyes level.
“You take pride in that? You should be ashamed.”
“No, not pride. But you can’t make me sorry for breaking them, Mama. Joe
