by Barbara Lohr
“Wild Thing?”
“Surprised?” His eyes were unreadable behind those aviator glasses.
“Very.”
“Don’t judge what you don’t know.”
Okay, the shiver became an icy chill down her spine. Blond hair ruffling in the stiff breeze, Logan climbed the short ladder and helped McKenna aboard.
“Thanks, Mike,” he said, taking the basket from McKenna’s hand. The small skiff roared back toward the marina.
Taking in the neatly coiled ropes and spotless white surface, she settled onto one of the navy cushions. “This is one sweet boat, Logan. My brothers and I fooled around with a Sunfish when we were in our teens. Small stuff. What Seth would have given for one of these.” As Seth would say, the sloop was loaded. High-tech gadgets were everywhere and Logan no doubt knew how to work them all. She wasn’t surprised. Everything, from the ropes to the instrumentation, looked like it was kept neatly in place.
“What do you do if the wind dies?” she asked, tugging down her cap against the sun.
“Don't worry. The boat has a motor.”
It didn’t look as if they’d need it today and she turned her face into the bracing breeze. The hat wasn’t going to work so she took it off and stroked her hair back into a scrunchie. After slathering herself with sunblock, she held up the bottle. “Want some?”
He shook his head. “Already took care of that.”
Well, of course. So efficient. But her hand tightened on the bottle at the thought of smoothing lotion onto Logan Castle’s skin. Her imagination couldn’t get past his shoulders and chest. Dropping the bottle back in her bag, she took a deep breath, eyes on the water ahead. Way safer than Logan’s broad shoulders and muscled thighs.
Clouds ribboned across the blue sky. As a kid, she’d called them tiger clouds. She settled back with a sigh until the boat began to thump across choppy water.
“Once we get into the clear, it should be smoother going,” Logan said, his eyes on the horizon. A few other sailboats skimmed the water while a speedboat cut through ahead of them, casting a wake ruffled with white caps.
When they pulled out of the channel, Logan rigged more sail and McKenna jumped up to help. Eyes checking his monitoring equipment and the breeze, he worked with the sails just as efficiently as he handled his practice. She followed his direction.
“You're a natural,” he remarked with approval after they'd come around once and she'd ducked under the flying boom.
She grinned. “Thanks to my brothers.”
“You're really close, aren’t you.” A wistful note laced his words.
“Most of the time. Sometimes they can be a pain in the neck.”
“Not from what I saw that day. Must be nice to have siblings. You’re lucky.”
“I know.” If she hadn’t grown up with her brothers and sister, maybe she wouldn’t want children so badly.
“Want to steer?” Logan asked, motioning to her after a while. Ready for any challenge, she scuttled around until she was next to him, the tiller jutting out between them. “If you want to go left, you turn right. It's easy.”
“I remember that from my brother’s Sunfish.” She took hold of the tiller.
“You’re a woman who likes control, aren’t you?” Logan observed after a while.
“Is that a bad thing?”
He gave her a steady look before answering. “For me? Not at all.”
“Good.” The breeze caught her hair, teasing out tendrils. Exhilaration pulsed through her. What a great day. As the sun climbed higher, so did the temperature. Logan handed her a water bottle from up front. Soon she shed the sweater from around her neck. Logan lounged across the back seat, hair whipping back from a contented smile.
“You love it out here, don’t you?”
His nod was filled with sleepy contentment. “Great place to get away and think.”
About what? Would he mention the baby he’d lost? Until Logan shared that important piece, she didn’t know if she could feel close to him. Anyway, McKenna was only his Sunday date. The thought that she’d brought this on herself rankled more than a little.
Logan busied himself with adjusting the sail, tugging on the ropes. The sun soon lulled her into silence. After a while, he took the tiller. Their comments flowed easily. Was she the only one who felt energy surging between them? In fact, her thoughts were downright disturbing and they had to do with warm skin, moist lips and a deep thirst that sips from her water bottle couldn’t satisfy.
Cripes. She better not get ahead of herself with Hot Doc.
Better to set a safer course. “Will your grandmother come to the golf outing?”
“She golfs, so maybe. She’d beat the pants off both of us.” Up above, the sail began to flutter. Logan was on it in a second, tugging on ropes and pulling in the slack. Her breath tightened just looking at him. The speed still didn’t pick up. “The wind’s dying. We might be sitting here for a while unless you want me to start the motor.”
“Time for a swim?” She pulled at the hem of her polo. Was she steamy from the temperature or Logan? “Think I’ll change into my suit.”
“Changing room below.” Logan nodded toward the back.
Grabbing the green and yellow striped beach bag that she’d had forever, McKenna made her way down the narrow steps. Keeping her balance was tricky as the boat lifted and fell on the swells. She blinked to see when she reached the bottom of the steps. Sunlight sifted into the space below from slitted windows that looked out over the deck. The main room was lined with dark blue cushions that could serve as beds. Blue and white blankets were folded neatly at the ends. Looked dry down here, but there was no escaping the smell of the lake.
The area felt so cozy, so intimate, a great place to nap when the sun got too hot. But the order in this area was anything but casual—no wet towels or rumpled clothing. Everything had its place, even the stack of extra beach towels folded neatly on a ledge.
She wasn’t going to dwell on Logan’s neatness thing. Not today.
Digging into the beach bag for her suit, she kicked off the rubber-soled shoes and took out her green flip flops. As she slipped into her new lime green bikini, she was glad she'd gone shopping. The old navy one-piece just wouldn't do it. Not for today.
Were her goose bumps from the cool air down here? Okay, the suit was showing way too much skin. From deeper in her bag, she pulled out a roomy white shirt. Men’s shirts made great cover-ups and she owned one in almost every color. She slid her arms through the generous sleeves and rolled them up a bit, leaving the buttons open.
When she returned topside, a rogue breeze caught her cover-up and it billowed behind her like a spinnaker. Logan glanced up and the look in his eyes gave her chills. “Wow, what can I say?”
“‘I like your suit’ would do it for me,” she joked, tossing her beach bag onto the seat. Suddenly shy, she tugged the corners of the white shirt tight around her middle.
Logan frowned while she worked on her knot. “Like it…more than covers it.”
“Thank you…I guess. Why don't you change? We’ll have an even playing field.”
“Playing field, huh? You can sure tell you grew up with a bunch of boys.”
Jumping up, he angled around her with a touch on her shoulder. Watching him disappear down below, she still felt the imprint of his hand.
Get a grip. Plunking onto the seat, she closed one hand tight on the tiller.
With the sun beating down, she enjoyed guiding the sloop through the water, even though they were hardly moving. Maybe Logan was right. She did feel comfortable being in control, but it was more than that. When she delivered babies, she was aware of being part of something much bigger than herself.
Eventually the wind died completely. They weren’t making much progress. As she looked out over the lake, she slipped one hand up to her shoulder where her skin still hummed, either from Logan’s touch or a bad case of nerves. The skyline of Chicago had receded in the distance along with other boats. It
was just the two of them.
When Logan reappeared, she was thankful for her sunglasses. He couldn’t see her gaping. He hadn't bothered with a shirt and the view was pretty spectacular. Broad shoulders narrowed to the striped swimsuit riding low on his hips. The pattern of his dusty chest hair followed that V.
“Level playing field?”
She snapped her gaze up and caught his sly grin.
“Maybe I could have some of that sunscreen now?” His eyes glinted over the rims of his sunglasses.
“Sure.” She dug around in her bag for sunblock while Logan put the boat on autopilot. Seconds later, she was smoothing lotion across his broad shoulders in the places he couldn't reach. Her fingers were pale against the ridges and hollows of his back. “You must spend a lot of time out here.” She splayed her hands wide on his upper back and drew them into his spine, applying pressure with the heels of her hands.
When he shrugged, muscles rippled under her hands and into her stomach. “I spend as much time as possible on the boat or golfing. I try to remember to wear a shirt. On the boat, it doesn’t always work.”
So he came out here alone? Now, wasn’t that just the saddest thing? Her hands stilled for a second before taking up the rhythm again. Good Lord, his muscles were knotted tight, from neck to his waistline—although she hadn’t gotten that low yet. That thought made her stomach roll like one of the swells thrown by a large freighter.
“Massage could be a second career, not that you need one.” He pulled in a sharp breath when she hit a knot.
“Just give me a minute,” she muttered, bearing down with her thumbs. When the stubborn muscle released, he groaned, unleashing a wave of heat in her thighs.
“I, uh, teach massage to the couples in my natural childbirth class.” A languid breeze offered little relief. She tipped her face into it anyway. Anything to help cool her body. “Helps relax the muscles during labor.”
None of her students moaned the way he did. His primal groan tugged at her tummy and lower.
“Makes sense,” he gasped when she bore down.
Pulling in a mouthful of moist lake air, she moved up to the knots in his neck. His body fought her, and a line of perspiration beaded along his hairline.
“Loosen up.” She gave his back a light pat.
“I am.” But his shoulders drew up, tight and resistant.
“No you’re not. We’re on the water, for Pete’s sake. No ringing pagers or phones. Deep breath and out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” After a couple of deep breaths, the corded muscles in his neck flattened under her fingers.
“Better.”
“Thank you, teacher.”
“Don't sass me now.”
“Is this how you handle the students in your class? Or do they always fall in line?” he teased.
She laughed. “Most couples are so nervous they never give me any lip.” As she worked with his neck, her fingers brushed the damp curls along his neck. She fought the urge to rake her hands into his thick head of hair. She licked her dry lips and imagined cradling that head in her hands and just…working out all those tensions. His and hers.
Dazed by the white bright sun, it was so easy to close her eyes and daydream. They’d go below into the damp coolness. A couple wet, heated kisses and Logan would work the thin straps of her top down her arms and cup her breasts. She’d shiver while his lips nuzzled the warm hollow in her neck and then trailed down to take their time with the beaded tips that hung heavy with waiting.
She moaned.
“What is it?” Logan asked, twisting his head to the side.
“Nothing.” She sucked in a breath and held it.
“Don’t hold back. Lay into it.”
“Oh, I will.” She gently pressed his head back into position, smoothing the pads of both thumbs over the base of his neck. “Don’t bark orders at me, Dr. Castle,” she murmured.
“Just do what it takes.” He flipped his head to the other side.
She took up her work and the daydream reached for her like a dangerous undertow.
When Logan had finished with her breasts, left them full and throbbing, he’d hook his fingers in her bikini bottom and slide it slowly down her legs. Trembling, she’d fall back onto the cushions with a whimper.
Whimper? When have I ever whimpered?
But the dream flowed on. Reaching up, she’d skim her hands over his chest, following his happy trail until she cupped him gently. He’d moan. She’d increase the pressure. His trunks would come off easily and he’d spring up, ready and at such a good angle. Her fingers would begin to work.
Logan’s gutsy groan ripped McKenna from the dream. He tensed, as if horrified by his own voice. She could hardly keep from laughing. Had Logan been indulging in his own naughty reverie?
“Enough. Time for a dip.” Twisting free, he whipped off his sunglasses and tucked them into a side pocket. When he jumped up, he landed right on her foot. Good Lord. She shrieked with pain.
“Oh, my God. McKenna, I am so sorry.” Face stricken, he dropped to a crouch at her feet. She’d never seen him look so helpless.
“I should have kept my shoes on. It’s not your fault.” She tried to wiggle her toes, but that right foot hurt like heck.
“Do you mind if I give it a feel? Your foot, I mean?”
Sitting back, she extended her right leg. Cradling her foot with one hand, he ran the other palm gently up over her heel and arch. Hot Doc had the magic touch, and his gentleness did not surprise her.
Now she knew why his practice was so busy.
“Where?” He’d jammed his sunglasses back on his head.
“Where what?” she murmured like a dazed dimwit.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Ah, the toes, in my toes.” She attempted another wiggle. The throbbing pulsed.
How could a man have such cool fingers on such a hot day? But he did, except when he touched the joint of her big toe.
“Ah! Painful.”
“Hmm.” He sat back and, boy, she missed those hands. “Want me to tape it? That’s about the only thing you can do with a broken toe. You can always ask Griff on Monday.”
This was getting ridiculous. “Look, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Let’s get in the water.” The sun bore down.
“Sure you want to swim?” He stowed his phone in a nook behind the seat cushion.
Hopping up, she found her balance. “Absolutely. Might be the best medicine.” After checking her pager and her phone and seeing no messages, she slipped them both back into her purse and shoved it into a nice dry corner.
Logan dropped sail. The boat slowed and the heat descended. “Use the stairs at the back of the boat to get into the water. Let's not get too far from each other.”
He came to stand next to her. The scent of warm coconut sunblock made her head swim.
Their eyes locked and her head buzzed with heat.
“Think I’ll take the direct route.” Grabbing for his hand, she stepped gingerly onto the edge of the boat.
“Watch yourself.”
Her body smacked the surface in a cannonball, feet tucked up tight. The water was oh, so cool, and she ignored her protesting foot. After Logan plunged in next to her, she kicked her way to the surface. Hair slicked back against his head, he bobbed up, his concerned frown easing when he saw her. “Foot okay?”
“Let’s forget about it.” She didn’t want this day to be about her foot and she swiped at her face, hoping her nose wasn't streaming.
“You’re one tough lady.”
“Not really.” McKenna didn’t want to be tough. She wanted to be tender. Especially with Logan. Treading water with hair slicked back, he looked like an ad for expensive men’s cologne.
“I'll race you around the boat.” And she was off, leaving him sputtering behind her.
For the next twenty minutes, they raced each other in the cool water. The first lap, they were neck and neck so they decided to go for best of three. To her dismay, he won.
“
You’re very competitive,” Logan said, tossing his wet hair from his eyes.
“You bet.” Chest heaving, McKenna struggled to catch her breath.
“Let’s call it quits. Rest that toe.” Concern tightened the planes of his face.
God, the guy was gorgeous.
“Good idea.” Her arms felt fatigued, the toe was throbbing and she was famished.
But her he-man sandwiches weren’t going to satisfy the need tunneling through her body.
Chapter 13
McKenna opened the picnic lunch while Logan rustled up some frosty beers below. Not being on call had its advantages. She could count on some relaxing time. But with Logan? Maybe not so relaxing.
Suit still wet, she felt comfortable in the sun but tugged the shirt tighter. “I freckle really badly,” she threw out, handing him a sandwich. His eyes deepened as they found the deep indentation of her cleavage. She forgot to chew. Shivered as her nipples peaked.
“Your skin is so creamy, McKenna.” The catch in Logan’s voice brought an even stronger reaction. “You should protect them…it.”
She laughed while a furious blush surged up his cheeks. He popped open his beer and took an audible gulp. Loving her Hot Doc’s discomfort, she rocked back. “You sound like my mother, talking about sunblock.” She ran slow fingers across the top of her breasts. He looked away and she chuckled.
“Having fun yet?” His frown didn’t fool her. He was enjoying this too.
“Let’s eat.”
“Good idea.” Logan took a huge bite. The conversation they’d had weeks ago in the Purple Frog about people’s eating habits came back. His expression told her he remembered too. Bite by bite, nibble by nibble, they matched each other. The sail boat lifted on a swell when a large cruiser motored past.
She loved the fact that they were in tune and he sure didn’t seem intimidated by her boldness. This day was so perfect, but she’d come with a purpose. “Logan, I hope you don’t feel railroaded into this mission trip. It’s a tough week.”