Worth It All (The McKinney Brothers #3) (4 page)

“Sorry. She’s not too scientific.” Paige peeked at Jake to see if he was becoming exasperated. Nope. Didn’t seem to be. In fact he seemed relaxed and…pretty perfect.

“No problem.” He carefully inspected the stump for any signs of excessive pressure. She didn’t think there were any—she checked every day—but maybe he’d see something she didn’t.

“Do you like your leg?” Casey asked.

“Yes,” he said, moving to inspect the prosthesis itself. “Do you like yours?”

Casey shrugged. “Sometimes. Did you get it when you were a baby?”

“No. I was nineteen.”

“Oh. That’s old.”

Paige thought she caught something deep in his eyes, the memory of it, maybe, but the shadows disappeared as quickly as they’d come.

He gently helped her daughter put the prosthesis back on, making sure the sock was perfect and the fit suited him. When he was satisfied, he lifted her from the table.

“I don’t see any definite pressure points or problems with the components, but even the slightest change in gait can cause discomfort in her thigh or hip. If this doesn’t work, we can do some scans and have her walk on a treadmill that records and assesses her gait.”

Casey walked along the table and picked up a rounded piece of something.

“Casey—”

“She won’t hurt it,” he said lightly. “Hey, Casey, can you come walk in front of me?” He knelt again, making himself about eye level with her hips. He had her walk back in a straight line away from him, then toward him several times. Every now and then he’d have her stop so he could tweak the alignment screws with an Allen wrench.

Casey kept her balance with a hand on his shoulder and was relatively quiet, only asking “What are you doing?” five times. A record low. They both watched him work with skilled efficiency, his head bowed, intent on his task.

Long lashes rimmed his eyes and a faint scar ran through the hair along his left temple. It made her want to touch him, ease some old hurt she didn’t even know about.

“Okay, why don’t you take a few laps around the room. See how it feels.”

Casey walked around the table, increasing her speed with each step. Jake straightened and watched her progress with such care and concern it went straight to her heart.

Casey stopped in front of one of the biggest monitors displaying a split screen. On the left side, a 3-D image of a human climbed a wall like a video game. On the right, a series of numbers flashed on points of a graph every time he moved.

“Is that a robot?” Casey asked him.

“No. It’s a man.”

Casey looked to Jake like she might be four, but she wasn’t stupid.

“It’s a man out there,” Jake said, half laughing. He pointed in the general direction of the testing side. It was clear Casey still didn’t understand. Jake lowered himself into a nearby chair and rolled until he was beside her. He pointed to the screen. “See, that’s a computer image of a real—”

“No, I can’t see.”

Before Paige could move, her daughter helped herself to Jake’s lap for a better view. Jake glanced up at Paige, not like he minded, more like Casey was picking teams and he was shocked she’d picked him. Strange because he had a natural way with kids. Did he have some of his own?

“Right. So that’s a man named Mike, climbing the rock wall, and Mike has electrodes attached—”

“What are leg trolls?”

“They’re…” He thought a minute and Paige liked him even more for his effort.

“Electrodes are like special stickers on Mike’s prosthetic hands that send a message here to my computer. Green is good, everything’s working. Red means the hands aren’t doing what they’re supposed to.”

“So it tells you it didn’t work?”

“It tells me I need to work harder.”

“Oh.” Casey’s gaze tracked along the table, bouncing from one thing to the next. “Do you like gum?”

“Yes,” he answered, going with the whiplash change in topics.

“Do you like squirrels? I like how their tails twitch. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Casey!” Paige’s cheeks heated, and she hated how much she wanted to know the answer. “I’m sorry, she’s inquisitive.”

“That means I ask a lot of questions, but that’s because I need to know stuff.” She slipped off his lap to go look at more
stuff
.

“That’s okay. It’s good to ask questions. And I don’t, by the way,” he said, turning his attention to her. He tilted his head and grinned playfully and all the air was sucked from the room. “Do you?”

“Have a girlfriend?” she teased. Jake smiled but it was obvious he was waiting on a real answer. “No. I don’t really date.” There was no
really
to it. She hadn’t been on a date since the night of Casey’s conception.

Jake leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms over his chest with a thoughtful look. “Why is that?”

“Time mostly. My plate is pretty full right now.”

And case in point, Casey called out, “Hey, Jake, want to see what I can do?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before showing him her best cartwheel, which wasn’t much, but pretty damn good for an almost five-year-old.

“Very cool.” He sounded sufficiently amazed to get two more and Casey radiated pride.

“I can do it better with one foot. Want to see that?”

Paige stepped forward before she ditched the prosthesis Jake had just spent his time adjusting. “Let’s leave it on for now.”

Jake straightened. “Is it still bothering you?”

“No.” Casey walked away to look at something else.

“She’s walking evenly,” he said to her, still keeping an eye on Casey.

“Yeah. It doesn’t seem to be bothering her at all now.”

“Looks like I have the magic touch.”

She bet he did have a magic touch. He came over to lean against the table next to her, close enough to get a faint whiff of aftershave.

“I can teach you how to make adjustments. Even if she’s not clearly communicating what feels right, there are certain things you can look for. I mean, I don’t mind doing it, but it might be helpful in case you need to match a different shoe. Of course I have no idea how many different kinds of shoes a five-year-old wears. Obviously, she’s not wearing stilettos, but—”

“Who’s not wearing stilettos?”

They all turned toward the voice of a large, good-looking man with mocha skin filling the doorway. He wore the same black shirt with the company logo and a wide smile. His tan shorts revealed a double amputation and his dark eyes practically twinkled. She instantly liked him.

“Hey, Simon.” Jake straightened and put some space between them.

“This is Paige and her daughter, Casey.”

Simon glanced at Jake, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “I see you moved.” She just caught Jake’s scowl before Simon turned and held out his hand to her. “Hi. Simon Moke. I don’t think we ever met officially.”

“No. Nice to meet you,” Paige said, taking his hand.

“I was looking at her daughter’s prosthesis, just making a small adjustment,” Jake said.

“Really?”

Another look passed between the men, and an awkward beat of silence followed. Right. They were done. No reason to linger. Though she wanted to. “Thank you,” she said, turning to Jake. “I really appreciate this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, sounding like he didn’t want to be thanked.

“Well…thanks, anyway.” She didn’t know what else to say to this man who made her feel so shaky inside.

“Casey, what do you say to Jake?”

“Jake, is it?” Simon raised an eyebrow.

Jake stuck his hands in his pockets, looking decidedly irritated with his coworker. Simon, on the other hand, appeared on the verge of laughter. Inside joke?

“Knock, knock.” Another man, older and decidedly frazzled, appeared in the doorway, his focus on Jake. “Sorry, but we need you in lab four. If you can. I mean, I think you’ll want to.” He waved the clipboard in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, looking at her. “I don’t know how long this will take.”

“No problem. Sounds important.”

“I’ll walk them out,” Simon offered.

Her gaze met Jake’s one last time, and a long pause hung in the air like maybe there was something else to say, but she didn’t know what it was.

Casey had an appointment at Shriners coming up, so if she needed anything more, she could wait for that. He might come back to the diner. He might not. They shared another long look and she turned, nearly smacking into the doorframe.

Casey waved. “Bye, Jake.”

“We’ll take the scenic route,” Simon told them cheerfully as they went one way and Jake went the other.

She couldn’t help herself from glancing back over her shoulder. Her heart took a giant leap in her chest when her eyes met his. Because he’d looked back too.

Casey walked beside Simon on her newly adjusted prosthesis, her step hitching a few times as she paid more attention to him than what she was doing. “You have two legs,” she said, amazed.

“Yes.”

“And they make noise.”

“Yes. My right knee is electronic, you can hear the air compressor. Cool, huh?”

Casey nodded. “What happened to your other legs?”

“I stepped on something I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh. I didn’t step on anything.”

“So, you know JT?” Simon led them into an elevator and pushed a button.

“Jake? Well…I don’t really know him.” Not as well as she wanted to. “He offered to help with Casey’s prosthesis.”

“Did he?” His mouth turned up at the corners. “Well, that’s great. JT’s a good guy. He’s also an expert at what he does.”

Casey peered up at him. “Are you an expert too?”

“So glad you asked,” he said, smiling. “I’m the guy who makes sure what JT designs actually works.”

“How do you do that?”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. “Well…this”—he made a sweeping gesture with his hand—“is the fun side of Evolution.”

The three of them moved to a Plexiglas railing that overlooked the floor two stories below and was open to another two stories above. A massive rock wall with several climbers rose up into the center of the open space.

Individual rooms with glass fronts like racquetball courts lined the sides of this level and the level below. Some had treadmills and computer stations, others had large blue mats on the floor and various equipment she assumed was for physical therapy. It was beautiful. Clean lines, colorful markings, and full of natural light from the top floor that was mostly windows.

“What do you know about our company?”

“Not that much. Sorry.”

“I’ll give you the short version. The entire complex is right around 90,000 square feet with an R&D side and a testing and therapy side, where we are now. See that man?” Simon pointed to a man at the bottom of a steep portion of track. “They’re testing the traction of a new prosthetic foot on different terrains. Today it’s gravel.”

A woman knelt beside him, attaching something to his foot; another man and woman stood ten feet up the incline, both holding computer tablets. At their signal he began a sprint up the incline. He made it halfway before slipping.

“I’d fall, running uphill on gravel,” Paige said.

“Yes. But after we’re finished, he won’t. With the products we develop here, people who were once seen as having a disability become stronger, faster. Amputations aren’t limitations to the human body and prostheses aren’t seen as replacements, but improvements. That track is one-third of a mile long and loops around the testing division. We can change surfaces, inclines, et cetera.”

Paige listened as her eyes followed the suspended red track that rolled and looped around the rock-climbing wall. It dropped below another section on the other side and continued like an indoor highway system for people.

Casey’s eyes were wide and Paige could practically see her little mind filling with possibilities. “It’s amazing,” she said as they started walking again. And Simon was obviously proud of it and of his friend. “You’ve known Jake a long time?”

“Yep. A long time. He’s a genius, really. Not quite thirty and already sold six major patents to biomedical companies, three of which are being used exclusively by the military. And thus, the birth of Evolution.”

Paige stopped. “Wait. You mean he started the entire company?”

“We did, along with another friend, but it was his patents that funded it. Why am I not surprised he didn’t tell you?” Simon shook his head. “Anyway, there’s no other place like it.”

Casey moved away to peer through the Plexiglas.

“You know, sometimes adjustments can cause minor changes in muscle use and balance. Why don’t you bring her back? Let me do some circus training with her.”

“Circus training?” Casey beamed and Paige wanted to hug him for making whatever therapy he had in mind sound exciting.

“That’s nice, but”—Paige lowered her voice, though Casey had moved farther down the railing—“my insurance wouldn’t cover—”

“Not needed. Really. It’ll be fun for her and I’m happy to do it. And if I see that she needs another adjustment, you’ll already be here.”

And maybe she’d see Jake again?

Simon led them back to the front where they’d come in, stopping at the green line on the floor. He slid his card in front of a sensor until it beeped and a silver bar swung open like a subway gate. Patents, she remembered, growing more impressed by the minute. Not a common emotion for her where men were concerned. And even more incredible, Jake hadn’t taken credit for any of it.

They stopped at the front desk and worked out a time for Casey to come back.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later.” He winked at Casey and went back the way he’d come.

“I like Simon,” Casey said, as they walked back to visitor parking.

“Me too.”

“I like Jake better.”

Me too.

Paige rounded the wide oak bar, almost running smack into Kali, carrying a tray full of drafts. “Sorry.”

Kali pressed her lips together. “Table five is asking for another pitcher of Bud Light.”

“Okay, thanks.” She stepped out of her coworker’s way and worked to get drink orders out. Kali was nice enough, but Paige was definitely the new girl at the Grille.

Not quite eight on a Thursday night and things were picking up. The Grille was more of a food place on weeknights, but they still got some after-work drinkers. Mostly men who didn’t have anyone at home, or did and came here to drink instead. Those were the ones you had to watch out for.

Scarred wooden tables dotted the floor area under dim lighting. The bar was nearly full with a few others standing, watching the Dodgers beat the White Sox.

Paige finished ringing up the current tab, then went for the pitcher. She’d already worked the afternoon at the diner and was midway through her four-hour shift here. The work was basically the same, only the trays were different. Black-rimmed with a cork bottom, serving two-for-one drafts instead of soda and milkshakes.

Over a week had passed since she’d seen Jake at Evolution. He hadn’t come back to the diner since the night he’d offered his help. At least not on her shift. She hated how often she’d looked for him every time the door dinged. It didn’t help that Casey talked incessantly about him and his magical legs and computer people.

She delivered the pitcher, then unloaded another round at the next table over. Careful not to make eye contact with the four men she was serving, she placed each of the eight beers down. On her last one, she glanced across the room and her gaze collided with the last person she expected to see.

Jake.

Her heart couldn’t have stopped, not literally, but it felt that way, and she bobbled the last glass, sloshing beer onto the table.

“Watch it now, darling. If you want me to take my clothes off, all you got to do is ask.”

“Sorry.” The man’s shirt was already open two buttons past desperate. She spun away, feeling icky just being near them.

Jake sat alone at a table in the center of the room, his dark eyes just as intense as she remembered and aimed right at her. She laid her tray on the bar and walked toward him.

There was something in his expression that pulled at her. Something soft and deep and maybe a little broken. Which was crazy, because nothing about him looked at all broken.

“Hey,” she said, reaching his table. “Don’t tell me you eat here too.”

He smiled. “No. I went by the diner earlier. I saw Jenny and she told me you were here.”

“Oh.” So he did still go to the diner, but she wasn’t there. Because she was here. And now he was here too. “Do you need a drink?”

“No, I’m set.” He raised the nearly full bottle in his hand.

Right. She just managed not to thunk her palm against her forehead.

“I saw Casey at the diner,” he went on. “She wasn’t wearing her prosthesis. Is it still bothering her?”

“I don’t know. Some days it seems fine and other days she says it is. I’ve asked her a hundred times, but she never gives me a real reason, which makes me think it’s not really hurting her at all. But obviously I don’t know for sure. I can’t tell her it’s not hurting if she says it is.” She sighed and shook her head at all the things she didn’t know and all the ways she could screw up.

“Hmm. The mystery of a five-year-old.”

That made her smile and when she met his eyes she felt a warm vibration from her head all the way to her toes.

“Can you sit?”

“Um…sure. For a second.” Because she could resist handsome, or so she told herself, but his honest concern for Casey was impossible. She slid onto the wooden bench across from him as classic Aerosmith played in the background. The air hummed between them, or maybe that was just her blood rushing around in places she didn’t usually notice.

He shifted and rested his forearms on the table, causing the sleeves of his T-shirt to strain around his biceps and other parts of her body to flutter.

“You work hard,” he added a moment later.

“I don’t mind. And I’m off at ten tonight. It’s not too bad.”

“Right. Jenny told me. She also said you needed a ride.”

“Really? That’s funny, since Jenny
was
my ride.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Jenny the matchmaker. “My car wouldn’t start this morning.”

“She said to tell you Casey was especially tired tonight. I’m also supposed to give you a message from Casey that she is
not
especially tired at all. Jenny said she would call you, but you didn’t have a cell so…I guess I’m the messenger and the ride. If that’s okay.”

The thought of a ride in the dark with Jake sent a shiver up her spine. “You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus.”

“The bus?”

He said the word like it was such a crazy idea. “Sure.” She assumed there was a bus and it wasn’t like she hadn’t taken it hundreds of times. When she was young and her mom was too
relaxed
to drive her. When she didn’t have money for gas, or her car wasn’t running, or—

His expression turned serious. “You’re not taking the bus.”

“Really?” She raised a playful eyebrow. “Bossy much?”

“I’m the youngest of seven kids,” he said. “I never got the chance to be bossy.”

“Seven? Wow. That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.” He agreed and took a drink of his beer.

“I don’t get off for another hour.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wait. It’s live music night, right?” He gestured with his bottle to a stool on a small raised platform at the front of the restaurant. The owner’s idea to draw in more business.

Her boss passed by the table. “You’re on in fifteen.” He motioned toward a guy plugging in cords and adjusting the microphone.

Jake’s brows shot up and he leaned forward. “Wait. You’re the entertainment?”

She was going to kill Jenny. “Not really. No. Jenny’s sort of boyfriend knows a guy who knows a guy. They were looking for somebody.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s just this once. They needed someone to fill in and Jenny mentioned me. It’s an extra fifty bucks. No big deal.”

Except the extra money. That was a big deal.

“It’s really just background music while people eat,” she went on. “Most of them don’t even listen.”

Keep talking, Paige. Maybe he’ll get bored and leave.

“You don’t need to stay.”

“Nervous?” He followed the question with just a hint of his sexy smile and her stomach did a full-out dance. It didn’t take much where Jake was concerned.

“Maybe. A little.” She blew out a breath. “Okay. A lot. I’m really wishing I hadn’t agreed to this.”

“I’m sure you’re good. He wouldn’t have asked you if you weren’t.”

“Well, since this is my first time, we’re about to find out.”

“First time singing?”

“Well, I sing to Casey, but she’s a pretty gentle audience.”

“Want to have a drink? Shore yourself up a bit?”

Without waiting, he lifted a hand and easily got the attention of one of the other waitresses. Not hard since they were staring at him like they were starving kittens and he was a bowl of cream. Desperate, hungry, and a little feral.

Megan, one of the kittens, rushed to their table and sent Paige a pointed look. A mix of
What the hell are you doing?
and
Damn, I wish it was me
.

“Two shots of tequila,” he said.

Shots?

“You got it.” Megan smiled at him and walked away, swinging what she had to swing. The frayed edges of her cutoffs barely made it legal.

Jake didn’t look. Not even a glance. Yep. Extremely decent. “I rarely drink. Rarely being never.”

“Special occasion,” he said easily. “So what do you do? Sing? Dance?”

“Not in a million years would I dance. I sing a little, and Richie, the friend of the friend, plays the guitar. I’m going to kill Jenny.” She closed her eyes a moment, considered clicking her heels to see if it would make her disappear. She opened them. Nope. Still here. Still desperately embarrassed. “I’ll pay you back for the drink.”

“I’m not keeping a tab.”

Two seconds later, Megan reappeared and delivered the shots with a wink.

Jake raised his glass of clear liquid. “To background music.”

With his eyes holding hers, he smiled and everything in her melted. It was more than his staggering looks or obvious intelligence, even more than his willingness to help her daughter. And so caught up in him and the faint dimple in his right cheek, she clinked her glass to his, tossed it back without thinking—and almost died.

Gasping, eyes squeezed shut, her entire body shuddered in a desperate effort to survive whatever she’d just swallowed. She reached for his bottle while her other hand waved to extinguish the fire inside her. Didn’t help and she choked on the beer.

“Sorry, jeez. That’s like drinking gasoline.” She coughed again as the fiery liquid continued to burn down her throat and through her body.

Jake watched her suffering, looking somewhat amused. He’d tossed his back like a pro. “It’ll warm you up. Put hair on your chest.”

“Great.” There was a tap on the open mic, and she glanced quickly over her shoulder, then straightened and took a deep breath. Crap. “Here goes.” She scooted out slowly and stood.

She could do this. Walk to the front of the room. Sing five songs. Go home. Kill Jenny. Bury body.

She gave Jake one last look and almost sat back down. Was it possible for alcohol to kick in this fast? Because when his smile broadened and sparked something in his eyes, she felt a little dizzy.

“I’ll be a gentle audience,” he said softly. “Pretend it’s just me.”

“Right. Okay. I’ll count on you for a rescue if people start throwing things.”

His gaze darkened. “I’d never let that happen.”

He was totally serious, and even though he made her a million times more nervous, it was oddly reassuring. Like he had her back.

With her heart pounding, she made her way to the mic. If she didn’t have a heart attack in the next twenty minutes, she deserved a lot more than fifty dollars.

Put hair on her chest? Could he be any more of a fucking idiot?

And now he was focused on her chest, much better showcased in clinging cotton than the uniform blouse she wore at the diner. Damn, she was beautiful. But there was more. A hell of a lot more. Her face, her smile, her blue eyes that he repeatedly found himself getting lost in. He wondered if everyone saw it, figured they did, and wished he could hide her away from the other eyes in the room. If he’d known she’d be singing, he would have tried for a closer table.

Paige slid onto a stool, one long leg straight, the other bent with her foot on the lowest rung. The group of men at the bar gave her their full attention, no surprise there. She’d pulled the band from her hair so that it now fell several inches past her shoulders like pale silk curtains on either side of her face.

“Hi, my name is Paige and this is Richie.” She readjusted herself on the stool, switched her legs, never looking at her audience. “We’ll be your entertainment for the next twenty minutes.”

She smiled over at the guy with the guitar, probably to let him know she was ready, but Jake felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He didn’t like another man backing her up, easing her nerves. He played a little himself, another thing he’d picked up since the accident. Never considered playing in front of people, but he would. For her.

He’d thought about her way more than he should have since she’d been in his office. Standing close to him, smiling, talking. Somehow he’d ended up at the diner, telling himself it was to check on Casey’s prosthesis. That’s it. It was work. He just wanted to know if his adjustment had solved the problem. And yet here he was, staring at Paige, an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, like if he blinked she might disappear.

He shook his head at himself and finished his beer.

Her soft voice flowed out and around him, clean and clear, so effortless, no one would ever know she was nervous. It was true, most people continued with light conversation as they ate except for the four men seated at the table nearest the stage. Not there for food with their hot looks and whistles between songs that had him grinding his teeth. And again, he wished for a closer seat.

Midway through the set, she glanced up and her eyes found his. He gave her a thumbs-up. The grateful smile she sent him knocked him in the chest and he fell, more than a little.

The singer-songwriter classics made him think of quiet nights and walks on the beach. Or maybe it was her voice. Or her. Or…Crazy, whatever it was, since he knew nothing of those things. Had never experienced them and hadn’t wanted to.

But watching Paige, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking what it would be like to steal her away somewhere. To take his time running his hands over all that smooth, pale skin. His hands, then his mouth.

His only relationship had been as a perpetually horny high school kid going all the way with his girlfriend whenever and wherever they could without getting caught. His ex-girlfriend, Rachel, was hot and cold, sexy as sin one second, spitting mean the next, and he’d been infatuated. The two of them together had been the epitome of teen love. Young, explosive, turbulent.

The football star and the cheerleader, king and queen of the prom. But he’d been a senior with dreams of the NFL while she’d been a junior, drawing hearts on her notebooks and trying out his last name.

It had been football, Rachel, school, in that order, meaning he put himself first. And then in seconds everything changed. Maybe God had felt the need to knock him down a few pegs. But then, it wasn’t God who’d glared at his girlfriend instead of the road or pressed the gas instead of the brake.

He straightened his leg under the table, the slight ache in his thigh reminding him he’d gotten exactly what he’d deserved.

Paige finished her set and went right back to serving, and damn it, her first order was for the table of drooling assholes. Paige ignored them, but he kept a close eye, hating how their eyes roamed her slender frame like she was on the damn menu.