Catch of a Lifetime (16 page)

   He'd rather make a pass—"Yeah. I am. It's… well, it's a long story. Can't make it."

   "Does this have something to do with a woman? There are only two reasons a guy is going to pass up fifty-yard line seats, and you aren't dead."

   If she bent over in front of that window one more time, he just might be.

   "Look, Drew, I gotta go. Call Randalls. He's always good for a night out."

   "All right, but don't give me shit for not asking you. You were first on my list, Lo."

   "Appreciate that." Even if he didn't believe it. He, Drew, and four other guys had been friends since the first project that had made them their money and repu tations; someone was always available to catch a game or a bite with.

   Angel made a grab for the ball before it hit the ground, but she missed and ended up sprawled on the lawn. He wouldn't mind catching a few nibbles of her leg.

   "What about golf this weekend? Are we still on?"

   "I'm going to have to get back to you."

   Angel climbed to her feet and smoothed her pants over her ass.

   "It's a woman."

   She certainly was. "I'll call you, Drew."

   "Uh huh. Good luck with that."

   Logan hung up. He didn't need luck—not when he kept replaying the parking lot near-miss. How she'd closed her eyes and leaned in to him. Any sane man would have taken her up on it, but after the mauling he'd done the night before, his sanity was in question and, hell, they both deserved better.

   This time, it'd be perfect. Without Michael and the public venue. He wanted to carry her up the stairs, peel those clothes off that enticing body he knew was under neath, and discover every erogenous zone she had. He wanted to hear her breath catch, see her eyes widen, then cloud with need. He wanted to touch every part of her, wrap her hair around his fists, trail kisses across those breasts that were driving him wild, plunge his tongue into her mouth and take all she…

   Logan kneaded the knot at the back of his neck. He was getting ahead of himself. Just because Angel hadn't made him stop didn't mean she'd be willing to take it to the next level.

   Of course, he
could
always do his best to convince her…

ANGEL CLOSED THE STORYBOOK AND SET IT ON THE NIGHT stand beside the bed. "I had a fun time today, Michael." She handed him his bedraggled, stuffed raccoon.

   "Me, too." Michael plunked the animal next to his pillow. "Angel?"

   "Hmm?"

   "Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" He made a big pretense of arranging the raccoon's paws just right, and his eyes didn't meet hers.

   "Of course I will, Michael. I had a great time today." She almost reached out to tousle his hair but stopped her self. Yes she'd be here, but he was already so attached to her, she shouldn't encourage more. How would he handle it when she did have to go home? "I'll send your dad up, okay?"

   "Okay," Michael mumbled.

   "Good night." She pulled the covers over his shoulder.

   "G'night."

   At the bedroom door, Angel watched him slip his hat back on his head then settle down. One arm wrapped around Rocky, Michael curled the rest of his body around the toy and pulled the covers tight as if shielding them both from the outside world.

   Angel's heart squeezed. How was
she
going to handle it when she had to go home?

   She didn't want to think about it and turned off the light—only to have the blue glow of his night light remind her of her home. Even more than the waters of Atlantis, that soft light reminded her of her birthplace.

   The Blue Grotto of Capri was one of her favorite places on earth. Most Mers were born there, in the turbu lent waters during a storm when Humans had no access to the cavern. Oh, Humans thought it an inconvenience at the hands of the weather, but Poseidon monitored that area closely, knowing exactly when it was needed, and ensured his people would not be discovered.

   She'd gone back many times during college to study Human visitors to the cave. They were always in awe, speaking in reverent tones about the grotto's beauty, some even jokingly claiming that the legends were true, that it was the home of Sirens, never knowing how right they were.

   Those Humans who'd appreciated the gods' beauti ful creation would want to save the planet. She truly believed that, and it gave her hope to teach them the error of their ways.

   That's why she was here, first and foremost. That had been her dream ever since she'd seen that first Human all those
selinos
ago. It was the reason she'd studied and worked as hard as she had. To make a difference.

   But it was going to hurt to leave Michael.
And
his father.

   She clicked the door closed, then rested her head against it. She couldn't think about Logan. Not about how hard it'd be to leave. The Coalition was in its in fancy. She was going to have her work cut out for her when she took office. There was an Advisory Board to assemble and all the committees. Mers to put in place within Human societies to work beneath the radar from that side, children to educate… Logan could only be a pleasant pastime. A temporary distraction.

   If only there was some way he could be more.

   She shook her head. There wasn't any way. Unless she was willing to break the cardinal rule of their society by telling him the truth, she couldn't have Logan and her world, too.

   Regretting the reality that made it so, Angel turned around and—

   Hit a wall.

   And
not
the plastered kind.

   The tall, dark, and handsome kind.

   She didn't need to look up to know who it was.

   But, somehow, just like last night, she couldn't seem to help herself.

   She also couldn't help noticing that Logan didn't step back.

   "I, um, was just coming to get you," she said. There. That sounded normal. Pleasant. Conversational.

   Then Logan did step back and her tummy twinged.
That
wasn't normal. But it was pleasant.

   Better than pleasant, actually.

   "Oh?" Logan ran a hand through his hair.

   "Um… yes. Michael. He's just about to fall asleep. I didn't want you to miss saying good night to him."

   "Thanks, Angel. For putting him to bed and playing with him earlier."

   "Oh, it's no problem. That's what I'm here for, right?"

   "About that. Can we talk?"

   Her heart sank. Can we talk was never good. She'd been wondering if there could be something between her and Logan, yet he wanted to "talk."

   Color her embarrassed. She just hoped he didn't ask her to leave—especially now because she'd seen the tips of hammerhead tails offshore earlier. Knowing Harry, he wasn't giving up.

   "Um. Sure. I'll wait for you on the lanai."

   He moved past her and opened Michael's bedroom door. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"You're in for it, you know." Ginger wriggled her serpentine neck through the yellow hibiscus hedge next to the lanai. "You've got a shiver of sharks just off the beach, slobbering all over the place, not to mention scaring every living thing into hiding. How am I supposed to get anything to eat? I still say you ought to raid the fridge for those prawns."

   "Ginger, I'm not raiding anything for you. I've got enough troubles as it is."

   What if Logan asked her to leave? Aside from the obvious worry about Harry, she would return home with nothing. A few dozen pages of notes weren't going to absolve her in The Council's eyes from coming ashore, and those observations certainly wouldn't give her the cachet she needed for the job.

   Never mind what leaving Logan and Michael would do to her.

   Angel kicked off her shoes and dropped into a lounge chair. The scent of hibiscus filled the air as the flowers neared the end of their one-day lives. She fiddled with one of the dying blossoms in the hedge next to her, feeling the correlation with her own life a little too closely.

   "Troubles. Right." Ginger flipped her head upside down. "You don't know what trouble is. Living all high and fancy as a princess while some of us are left to survive on our wits. I'd trade places with you in a wingbeat."

   "The difference between us, Ginger, is that all you think about is yourself."

   "And maybe that's where your problem comes from. Do you really think you can save the planet? Honestly? And creatures say
I'm
vain."

   Angel flicked the end of Ginger's beak to get her to leave her alone, and the flamingo undulated her neck as she backed out of the hedge.

   Was that it? Was she vain to think she could do this? Was it an impossible task? Was Rod right? Was she des tined to be
Just Angel
the rest of her Immortal life?

   That she was questioning herself bothered her. Maybe she was going about this the wrong way; she didn't know anymore. It'd seemed like a good idea, but now…?

   Now Michael's emotions were involved and so were hers and, Hades, she couldn't even manage to stick to her convictions about not falling for a Human.

   Falling for—?

   No. She was not falling for him.

   She wasn't.

   Really.

   Angel sat up and smoothed her pants over her knees. There was a difference between wanting someone and falling for him. Huge difference. Life-altering differ ence. She hadn't fallen.

   Had she?

"ANGEL? WHERE ARE YOU?"

   Logan. Angel's chuckle was half-groan. Talk about karma, the universe, whatever.

   She swung her legs off the edge of the lounge and toed around for her shoes. "Right here, Logan."

   He rounded the corner before she could get her sec ond shoe on and stand, which left her gaze at thigh level.
His
thigh.

   So not where she needed it to be.

   She sprang to her feet—and teetered on the new ap pendages that were now at uneven heights, thanks to the one-shoe thing. Gods, when would she learn?

   Then Logan reached out to steady her and didn't let go, and she figured she'd learned fairly well.

   No no no. The job. She had to remember the job.

   "Are you okay?"

   If she could find her voice, she'd answer him. As it was, she could only nod.

   "Oh. Good." He let go of her arms.

   Thank the gods she managed to stay upright. Some learned scientist she was—cool, professional, able to maintain distance when dealing with her subjects—

   Yeah, she was fooling no one. Least of all her self. Wanting, falling… Was there really that much of a difference?

   "How about a walk on the beach?" He held up a white plastic box. "I've got the monitor on in Michael's room so we can hear if he needs us."

   "Oh. O…okay." Well, good. She was getting her voice back. That was a plus. Now if she could just get the tummy flutters to settle down, she'd be in good shape. Then Logan held her elbow while she kicked off the other shoe, and continued holding it the entire way down the flagstone path to the steps leading to the beach, all the while, her stomach was dancing the mambo.

   It was a good thing they were going on a walk. As opposed to oh, say, hanging out in the kitchen…

   A walk was harmless. It would give them a chance to get to know each other better. She could learn more about his world. Hear his thoughts. Practice walking on a new surface, and chalk it up to experience in prepara tion for her argument to Rod. It'd be a good argument.

   So good that she almost convinced herself that was why she was going on the walk—until the cool grains of sand slid beneath her feet and squelched between her toes, and she had to grab Logan again to catch her balance.

   When his warm skin met hers, and his muscles flexed beneath her fingers, her balance became seriously com promised as shivers ran up her arm, and toe-tingling became toe-curling.

   Angel wasn't sure which rocked her world more off kilter, the sand or Logan.

   Or the wave that was headed right at her.

   She hopped to the side to avoid it, glad she still had hold of him so she didn't go down—more than an em barrassment, that would have been a disaster. Her tail nondisclosure loomed large between them.

"So, um, what did you want to talk about?"

   "You." Logan's voice swirled her tummy like high tide in an inlet.

   "Me?" Her voice, on the other fin, sounded like a sick seal pup. She'd never squeaked before. It wasn't attractive.

   Logan took her hand and headed down the beach away from the inlet on the other side of his house. "Me, too, of course."

   "You?" Eloquent, wasn't she?

   "And last night."

   Her stomach did that squirmy thing again. "What, um, about it?"

   Another wave flowed up the beach, a little too close to them for her liking, and Angel took another step to the side.

   "You don't want to walk in the surf?" Logan didn't let go of her hand.

   So she didn't let go either. "Not really. I saw some sharks offshore and would rather not tempt them."

   "Sharks don't come onto shore, Angel."

   "Well, you never know." Okay, it was lame, but what was she going to say?
I don't want to have my legs liter
ally swept out from under me?

   Besides, the hand-holding was already doing a fine job with that, and she could only imagine what talking about last night would do.