Worth Fighting For (Bayside Bachelors #3)

by Judy Duarte

  “We’re meeting at Playa Del Sol, the same beach where we had that party the last time you were in town. Kay and I are going to arrive early and try to get the fire ring that’s near the volleyball court, but I don’t think anyone else will show up before five or five-thirty.”

  “All right. I’ll see you then.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too.” When the line disconnected, and Brett hung up the receiver, he sat back in his chair and studied the telephone.

  It was too late to call Kelly tonight. At least, that’s the excuse he made.

  But should he give Caitlin a call now or wait until morning?

  Caitlin had been surprised when Brett invited them to the beach party and had almost declined, since she’d been scheduled to work this afternoon. But knowing how much fun Emily would have, she’d called a co-worker and switched days with her.

  While waiting for Brett to arrive, she scanned the contents of the two canvas tote bags she’d packed for the beach party, hoping she had everything they would need. She had towels, sun block, sand toys, a change of clothes for Emily, sweatshirts for them both, a first-aid kit for any unexpected emergency. That ought to do it.

  And in a cooler, she had ice, drinking water, a pasta salad and homemade peanut butter cookies. As far as she was concerned, she and Emily were ready to go.

  Of course, Emily had been ready before noon, when she’d put on her red polka dot bathing suit—just in case Brett arrived earlier than five.

  And to be honest, Caitlin had been filled with anticipation, too. But she’d waited until four-thirty to put on her beach attire.

  She glanced down at the pair of white shorts she wore to cover the black bikini, which was more conservative than most. Or so she’d convinced herself.

  Maybe she should have worn a different cover-up, like an oversize shirt. But she admonished herself for feeling self-conscious. This was just a casual get together at the beach, a potluck with Brett’s friends, the Logans.

  Still, when the doorbell rang, she struggled with both a growing feminine awareness and a soaring sense of excitement.

  “I’ll get it,” Emily said, as she dashed for the door, her flip-flops snapping and flapping across the hardwood floor.

  Caitlin followed behind her daughter, that sense of awareness and anticipation mounting. As the door swung open, Emily greeted Brett. “We’re all ready to go to the beach party.”

  “Good.” He smiled at the child, until he spotted Caitlin, and his expression sobered in a sexual way.

  Her pulse rate skittered, as his gaze swept the length of her, then leaped into overdrive when his eyes lingered at breast-level.

  When his gaze lifted and locked on hers, a full-bodied, hot-blooded burst of carnal energy nearly took her breath away.

  He seemed to recover quicker than she did, and his lips quirked in a crooked grin. “If I had known how good you look in a bikini, I would have invited you to go swimming sooner.”

  Her heart took flight at the compliment, and she struggled with a response.

  Was a thank-you in order? Or should she downplay the remark?

  Oh, for goodness sake. They’d both decided this relationship was destined to remain platonic.

  Emily tugged at the hem of Brett’s white T-shirt. “I was ready for a long, long time. And it’s only four-four-nine. Do we still have to wait?”

  He grinned and gently stroked the top of her head. “I’m tired of watching the clock, too. We can go now, if it’s okay with your mom.”

  “That’s fine with me. I’m ready.” Caitlin nodded at her bags and the cooler. “Will you help me carry these to the car?”

  “Of course,” he said, chuckling. “It looks like you even included the kitchen sink.”

  “Everything but,” she said. “I like to be prepared, that’s all.”

  “I had a feeling you would.” He grinned, eyes twinkling with mirth, then placed the heaviest canvas bag on top of the ice chest and carried it to the car.

  She grabbed the other one, slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder and locked the house.

  When they’d loaded the Explorer, Caitlin grabbed Brett by the arm. “Wait a minute.”

  “What’s the matter? Did you forget something?”

  She dropped her hand, but a connection remained—unseen, unspoken, but strong. She nibbled on her bottom lip and tried to think of a way to explain that she didn’t know the Logans and felt a little uneasy with what she’d chosen to wear. “Maybe I ought to put on a blouse before we go.”

  “Don’t you dare. I like what you’re wearing. And I’m going to make sure you go out in the water, so I can see the rest of your suit.” The appreciation in his grin taunted her in a good way, and a flood of feminine pride surged, challenging the conservative side she’d developed over the past four years.

  “All right, let’s go,” she said, releasing whatever hold she’d had on him with a bit of reluctance and immediately feeling the loss.

  What was with that?

  Fortunately, Emily’s presence diffused the awkwardness. The little girl chattered all the way to Playa Del Sol about the things she wanted to do at the beach, like building a castle that went all the way to the sky. And playing in the water.

  By the time they parked in a lot adjacent to the beach, the sun had lowered over the Pacific, and the sea breeze stirred the scent of sand and salt water. As they climbed from the car, gulls cried out in welcome.

  “There they are.” Brett pointed to an older couple who’d set lawn chairs and blankets near a fire ring.

  The gray-haired man appeared to be in his sixties, but was tall and powerfully built. His wife was probably a few years younger, petite and attractive.

  Brett waved at the Logans, then helped Emily from the car. “Caitlin, let me introduce you two, then I’ll come back for our things.”

  They walked through the parking lot and onto the sand, with Emily striding ahead. When she stepped out of a flip-flop, she looked at Caitlin. “Uh-oh. My shoe.”

  While Caitlin stooped to pick up her daughter’s sandal, Brett lifted the little girl in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

  Mrs. Logan, a rosy-cheeked woman with copper-colored hair, strode toward Brett. “We’re so glad you’re back in town.”

  With Emily still in his arms, Brett greeted the older lady with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Kay, you look just as pretty as ever.”

  “Thank you, dear.” She placed a hand on Emily’s arm and blessed her with a warm, grandmotherly smile. “Who is this pretty little girl?”

  “This is Emily and her mother, Caitlin.” He slipped an arm around Caitlin’s waist, and although he held her lightly, the affectionate move sent a shimmy of warmth through her veins.

  She struggled not to lean against him, not to slip her arm around him, too, and greeted Mrs. Logan instead. “How do you do?”

  As Harry joined them, Brett continued the introductions.

  The retired detective, who was just as gracious and welcoming as his wife, patted Brett on the back. “It’s good to see you, son. And to meet your friends.”

  “Brett,” Emily said, placing her little hand on his jaw. “When can we make the castle?”

  He grinned at the eager child. “As soon as I get the things from out of the car. You wait here with your mommy.”

  Moments later, Brett returned, and Caitlin began to lay out a blanket on which they could sit and place their things. Emily quickly dug into the blue canvas tote and found her sand toys, as Brett shed his shirt.

  Caitlin couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders, the corded muscles of his back and, when he turned, the light splatter of dark hair on his chest that narrowed as it disappeared under the waistband of a green surfer-style swimsuit.

  As her scan reached his face, she caught his eye and realized he’d known she’d been looking at him, admiring his body. A flood of warmth rushed to her cheeks and her movements stilled, as words and excu
ses escaped her.

  “Mommy, are you going to help us build the castle?” Emily asked.

  “In a minute, honey.” She nodded toward the blanket. “As soon as I finish unpacking.”

  Brett took Emily by the hand. “Come on, we’ll find the perfect spot and start without your mom.” He led her toward the water, where the sand was wet and solid.

  When Caitlin had organized everything on their blanket, she couldn’t help but watch from a distance, admiring Brett’s physique as he helped Emily build a moat to protect their castle from the waves.

  The man was real hero material, if you asked her. Daddy and husband material, she suspected. And she was sorry they’d decided to keep things platonic. Sorry that she had to remain unattached until custody of Emily had been decided.

  “For a man who tends to avoid children,” Kay said, “Brett is certainly good with your daughter.”

  Caitlin tried to hide the surprise from her face. Brett certainly hadn’t avoided Emily. Of course, her daughter had never given him a chance to.

  She turned her attention to the older woman. “I had no idea he was uncomfortable around children. He’s been great with Emily, and she adores him.”

  Brett had also been a wonderful neighbor, and she was growing to care a great deal for him. But she kept her personal thoughts and growing affection for the Navy helicopter pilot to herself.

  “It does my heart good to see him happy,” Kay said. “Of all Harry’s boys, Brett has held a special place in my heart.”

  Caitlin wanted to ask why, but before she could, Harry spoke. “Well, look who’s here.”

  The women turned toward the parking lot, where a blond couple and a towheaded little boy approached.

  “It’s the Davenports,” Harry said, striding toward them.

  Moments later, Caitlin was introduced to Joe Davenport, a tall, muscular man wearing a navy blue shirt with a Bayside Fire Department logo, his wife Kristin and their seven-year-old son, Bobby.

  Kristin was a classy, stylishly dressed woman, tall and willowy with golden brown hair and green eyes. She wore a linen shorts set. The blouse didn’t hide a swell to her abdomen.

  “Didn’t you have that ultrasound today?” Kay asked.

  Kristin shot a glance at her husband and grinned. Before they answered, Bobby spoke up. “I’m going to be a big brother to two babies.”

  Caitlin couldn’t help but grin at the towheaded kid with a cowlick and a scatter of freckles across his nose who was obviously looking forward to being a big brother.

  “That’s wonderful news.” Kay gave Kristin a hug. “You’ll certainly have your hands full for a while. But what a blessing twins are going to be.”

  Joe slipped an arm around his wife. “She’s going to have plenty of help with them. I didn’t get a chance to be around Bobby when he was a baby, and I plan to make up for it this time around.”

  Harry and Kay’s happiness for the Davenports was genuine, and Caitlin could easily see why the Logans had earned a special place in Brett’s heart. She was drawn to them, too.

  Joe took his son by the hand. “Come on, Bobby. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. He’s the guy helping the little girl build a sand castle. Maybe they’ll let us help.”

  Caitlin smiled, as she watched the father and son join Emily and Brett.

  Brett stood and shook hands with Joe, their smiles warm, their friendship and respect for each other apparent. But when Brett glanced at Bobby, he seemed to tense and stiffen.

  Had Kay been right?

  Was Brett uncomfortable around children?

  Bobby plopped down in the sand next to Emily and the two began to work together in the sand, making quick friends, as children were prone to do.

  But Caitlin watched Brett, watched his eyes. She sensed it was a struggle for him to look at the boy and a struggle not to.

  What was going on?

  She would have to talk to him about it later—if she could get him alone.

  But for some reason, she had a feeling he’d welcome an escape right now.

  Chapter Eight

  Bobby Davenport was a cute kid, with wheat-colored hair, golden brown eyes and a freckled nose. It was easy to see that he favored his father, but just looking at the boy was killing Brett.

  If Bobby had been wearing a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and a red baseball cap, he’d look just like Justin had the day Brett had been watching from across the street, while seated on his Harley.

  The two boys had to be about the same age. Did they have anything else in common? Maybe saving baseball cards and watching the same cartoons?

  Conflicting emotions blindsided Brett, taunting him with an overwhelming compulsion to stare at the kid, to question him about things, like school and sports and video games. But at the same time, he had a pressing need to grab his keys from the top of Caitlin’s blanket, make a mad dash to the car and put the pedal to the metal before weakness overcame him and he got all soft and teary-eyed in front of people.

  Ever since Brett and Kelly had divorced, he’d dealt with his decision to walk away from Justin by steering clear of kids, especially little boys who reminded him of his son.

  Like Bobby did.

  As the boy dug in the sand with both hands, he glanced up and shot his father a broad smile, revealing a missing front tooth.

  Had Justin lost any teeth yet? And if so, what was the tooth fairy’s going rate these days? Shouldn’t a dad know things like that?

  “Hey.” The sound of Caitlin’s voice lured him away from the thoughts that would become self-destructive, if he continued to dwell on them.

  He glanced over his shoulder, allowing the sight of the petite blond nurse to be a balm to his shattered emotions.

  “We’re making a castle,” he told her, although his focus on the project had shifted the moment the seven-year-old boy with a cowlick dropped to his knees and began to form the base with a pile of sand.

  “I can see that.” She blessed him with another smile, this one loaded with something soft and genuine, feminine and alluring. “And you’re doing a fine job of it.”

  He shrugged, ready for an escape—any escape, even the familiar but uncomfortable lure he felt whenever he was around her. It sure beat the hell out of thinking about Justin.

  “Will you take a walk along the beach with me?” she asked. “Kay said she’d keep an eye on Emily.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” He stood and brushed at the sand on his knees and swim trunks.

  “Brett and I won’t be gone very long,” she told her daughter. “Mrs. Logan said she’d watch you.”

  Emily, her hands and arms shoved deep into a bucket of sand and water, grinned. “Okay, Mommy. Joe is showing us how to make pretty little squiggles on the princess tower.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her, too,” Joe volunteered. “It’ll help me know what to expect if one of our babies turns out to be a girl.”

  “Thanks.” Caitlin flashed him an appreciative grin, then turned her attention on Brett. She crossed her arms, forcing her breasts to swell out of the black material of her bikini top. “Are you ready?”

  Way more than he ought to be, since he was jumping from one emotional powder keg to another. “Sure, let’s go.”

  As they started down the shoreline, Brett didn’t trust himself to talk, to ask where they were going. As it was, he just enjoyed the wet, squishy feel of water and sand on his bare feet, the salty kick to the breeze, the lonely cry of a seagull. And, when Caitlin didn’t know he was stealing a glance at her, he especially enjoyed having the pretty blonde at his side.

  She scanned the color-streaked horizon. “It’s going to be a beautiful sunset.”

  He supposed it would be, although he’d never been one to get mushy or sentimental about things like that. But since it seemed to matter to her, he looked at the sky, saw the pink and orange tinted clouds as the sinking sun stretched them like streaks of paint on an easel. “You’re right.”

  Her shoulder brushed again
st him once or twice, and each time he had an urge to take her hand, to slip an arm around her and pull her close. To make this walk on the beach into something it shouldn’t be.

  Hell, his emotions were going nuts today, and he was being bombarded with all kinds of unwelcome feelings that clawed at his chest.

  “Brett,” she said, drawing his rapt attention and making him wonder if she’d had some ulterior motive for getting him away from the others. “What was going on back there?”

  Back where? At the sand castle? “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She bent, picked up a striped shell, studied it a moment, then wiped it against her shorts before sticking it in her pocket. “Kay mentioned you avoid small children. I found that hard to believe, since you’re so good to Emily. But then I watched you with Bobby. You appeared to tense as though you were uncomfortable.”

  He looked ahead, at the gulls that fought over the bright green paper that had once packaged a granola bar, at two men fishing off the jetty. At the setting sun that dipped behind an orange, silver-lined cloud. He really didn’t want to discuss it with her, but he couldn’t dispute what she’d seen or what she’d sensed. And he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about him and kids. It wasn’t as though he didn’t like them.

  “I have a son I haven’t seen in a long time,” he admitted. “I’m not happy about the way things are, and being around kids is a real bummer. That’s all.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  For a moment he thought she might take his hand, offer him some kind of condolence. And he wasn’t sure if that would be a good thing or not.

  “How old is your son?”

  That much he could tell her. “He’s Bobby’s age.”

  “I see.”

  Did she? He didn’t think a woman like her with a maternal side as vast as the Pacific would understand why a man would walk away from his son, why he wouldn’t put up a fight.

  Brett might have convinced himself that he’d done the right thing five years ago, but his recent waffling made him less sure about the decision. And he’d be damned if he’d let her think of him as a loser dad. “It’s a long and complicated story, and I don’t want to get into it right now.”