Jax smiled again, a sly one this time. "You'll see. Besides, I think those are cute. They look like clown shoes."

Grimacing, I looked down at my multi-colored feet. The running shoes I'd packed on the off chance that I could squeeze in some exercise on this tour were so brightly neon that they could blind an unwary onlooker. In retrospect, that's probably why they'd been such a bargain—they were hard to look at without getting nauseous.

I raised an eyebrow. "Hopefully wherever we're going doesn't have a dress code."

"If it did, you'd definitely start a new trend," Jax said with a smirk. "Come on, let's go."

He wouldn't say another word about where we were going during the cab ride, but since he had me wear these shoes, I felt fairly certain that wherever we went, we'd be doing a lot of walking.

And when the cab dropped us off, I saw that I wasn't wrong.

I gave a slow whistle. "Wow. We're going all the way up there?

We stood at the foot of the steepest hill I'd ever seen. A hill so steep, that the street just stopped, as if the city builders had given up. In its place, a set of wooden stairs snaked their way up to the top. I could just see through the trees a white tower that perched at the hill's summit. He was right, sandals would have been murder on a climb like that.

"Telegraph Hill," Jax said with satisfaction. "And we're going to the top. It's got the best view of the city."

I gave him a sidelong look. "Did the doctor say when you would be ready for something like this?" I looked up again at the dizzying staircase. "There must be like five hundred steps."

"He said it was okay to get some exercise," Jax said. "And this won't be a problem for me." He gave me a smirk that was filled with his usual teasing sense of humor. "Maybe you're the one not up for the challenge."

"I'm not that out of condition yet," I retorted. "I bet I'll still be ready for more when you're wheezing that you can't go on."

Jax's eyes narrowed. "And I bet that you'll be begging me to carry you the last few yards."

I shook my head, smiling. "Not a chance. Care to make it interesting? The one who's hurting the most at the end buys dinner."

"You're on."

On the first flight of stairs, my thigh muscles stretched in a way they hadn't since . . . well, since I'd ridden Jax to orgasmic oblivion in Las Vegas. I smiled with pleasure. Whatever our relationship ended up being like once Jax healed, I wanted that kind of fun to happen often. Daily, even.

My distracting thoughts melted away after about forty steps, when my breath started to hitch. No, not already!

"Having problems?" Jax asked, a gleam in his eye. "Need a rest?"

"No," I huffed. "Just getting into the swing of it. Maybe you just want an excuse to stop."

"I'm fine," Jax replied, his voice hardly winded. "This feels great."

I glanced at him. His chest rose and fell easily, and he climbed with an energy usually reserved for his rock shows. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he took off the button up shirt he wore over his wifebeater without even breaking his stride.

Damn it, he's been in the hospital and he's in better condition than me. I grinned to myself, taking in the way his biceps stretched taut under his tan skin. Not that I'm complaining.

My breath hitched again, and I concentrated on climbing. Up ahead, a long landing interrupted the flight of stairs, stretching around either side of the hill. Houses jutted out alongside it, making the landing look like a little sidewalk. Maybe I could find a way to rest up there that wouldn't undo our bet.

"Come on," I said, scrambling ahead of Jax, my chest heaving. "I call a truce if there's a good view from up there. We don't want to miss it, right?"

Suddenly, a stinging slap landed on my ass. A cry escaped my lips, and I turned to see Jax grinning at me.

"I like the view just fine from here," he said, his eyes gleaming in a way that I loved to see. This date seemed to be keeping his spirits up . . . if not something else, I thought with a wicked grin.

I rubbed the spot where his hand had landed and arched an eyebrow at him. "So you did have an ulterior motive for coming up here."

"No, that's just one of the perks. I can't help it if you're sticking your butt in my face, asking for it."

I started climbing again, swinging my rear in an exaggerated sway. "If I'm asking for it, then come and get it," I said over my shoulder.

Jax pressed his lips together with determination and made a lunge for me. His hand brushed the back of my leg, but missed as I dodged away from him. Laughing, I turned and ran up the stairs. The sound of Jax's shoes scraping on the wooden stairs as he chased me sent a thrill of excitement through me, and with a sudden burst of energy, I scrambled up onto the landing.

I turned to get my bearings and stopped still. I gazed around in wonder.

A hand reached around my waist, and I jumped. Jax pressed himself against me, his breath hot in my ear.

"Got you," he said, kissing the back of my neck.

I laughed and pointed to the view. "Come on, I call truce. Look."

Jax let go of me with a reluctant sigh, then followed my gaze. A smile lit up his face.

San Francisco Bay stretched before us in a late afternoon glow. Sailboats dotted the water. Trees and bushes obscured the view somewhat, but it was still breathtaking.

I shaded my eyes. "Is that Alcatraz?" I asked, pointing at a distant island.

Jax looked for a moment, then nodded.

I eyed the distance from the island to shore. "I guess it worked as a prison for a reason. No one could escape from there, could they?"

He shrugged. "That's what the officials say."

Tilting my head, I looked up at him. "Is it up for debate?"

Leaning against the railing, Jax stared out at the island. "Rumor has it three men escaped in the sixties." He whipped his head around, giving me an amused look. "Haven't you ever seen Escape From Alcatraz? Clint Eastwood?"

I folded my arms across my chest. Old movies weren't really my forte—until I'd met Jax, that is. "No, Mr. Movie Buff, I haven't. But let me guess what it was about. An escape."

Dismissing my sarcasm with a quick smile, Jax nodded. "It's based on real events. These guys dug through the walls, left behind paper mache dummies to fool the guards, and took off across the bay on a raft made out of raincoats."

I gazed back over the wide expanse of water that separated the island from the mainland, and shivered. That looked like a far way to go on just some raincoats stitched together. "No wonder they made a movie about it. And they survived?"

A slow grin appeared on Jax's face. "No one found their bodies, but three men were spotted in a boat on the water that night, then later stealing a truck."

"Maybe they did escape then," I murmured. "It's weird though, those guys were criminals who probably deserved to be locked up, but somehow you just have to root for them anyway. Even if it feels wrong."

"It's the underdog principle," Jax said, drawing his brows together. "The more impossible the odds, the more you want to beat them. And if anyone else tries, you root for them too."