Which sounded easy enough. Until you tried to get one to commit. She was beginning to think it would be easier to lure one of Hollywood’s movie stars to the house than a licensed plumber.
And until then, she had to bathe in another bathroom. Although most of the rooms had connecting baths like hers, there was a bathroom a few doors away down the hall. Cassie just wished she didn’t have to pass Blake’s bedroom to get there. It was a silly thing to worry about, but she preferred it to dwelling on Daphne’s words.
She hadn’t forgotten Daphne’s warning the other night, and still wondered whether the other woman had been telling the truth. Was that why Blake had remained so emotionless when she discussed breaking her contract? Was there more to his relationship with Daphne than Cassie had seen? Or had Daphne decided to set her claws into Blake and now hoped her words would scare away any competition?
And could she really consider herself competition? Despite the reactions Blake could cause without any effort, Cassie knew she wasn’t in his league. She must have imagined that she saw a flicker of attraction in his eyes, because from the way he’d acted last night, it was clear that his interest in her was strictly professional. And even though she disliked the calculating Daphne, Cassie had to admit the woman looked like a perfect counterbalance on Blake’s arm.
Suddenly Cassie wished again for the safe familiarity of Twin Corners. It seemed the more she discovered of the world, the more she learned of its complexities. But then, back in Twin Corners there hadn’t been men like Blake Matthews to confuse all the boundaries. They’d had their share of small-town hunks in Twin Corners, but none of them had been packaged like him.
The man whose bedroom she now had to pass.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie reached for a stack of clean towels and the terry robe that sat beneath them. Opening her door cautiously and looking down the hall to make sure it was empty, she darted into the bathroom. Satisfied by her quick maneuver, she deposited the towels, peeled off her clothes, then stepped into the shower. The water quickly doused her body and hair, a refreshing spray that woke up her senses and had her humming. Feeling invigorated, she climbed out of the shower and reached for her robe. But it didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.
Cassie plowed through the stack of towels a half-dozen times, then searched the rest of the counter, and the floor. All that searching merely confirmed her sinking certainty that she’d forgotten her robe.
Wrapping a bath towel around her torso, tucking the ends at chest level beneath her arms, she desperately hoped that Blake was already downstairs. Taking another fortifying gulp of air, she flung open the door, intending to race down the hall.
Instead, she ran straight into Blake, nearly toppling them both in the process. Cassie’s fortified breath whooshed from her lungs as rapidly as the crimson spots that stained her cheeks appeared. Clutching the towel firmly, Cassie tried to find something, anything, to say, but for once her incredible gift of gab had run dry.
“I...” they both began, and then stopped suddenly.
“Go ahead....” they started again, in unison.
Cassie took the plunge, realizing as she spoke that she sounded completely witless. “My shower faucet is broken,” she offered feebly, unable to say much more as she watched Blake’s eyes darken as they roamed over her.
Blake cleared his throat, yet his words still sounded husky. “I know.”
“Of course. You told me to call a plumber, but it’s not easy getting a plumber. They all have waiting lists, and unless you’re royalty or a movie star, they won’t promise a thing. Not even an appointment, or a howdy-do. If I wanted to start a business here, it’d be plumbing. They must make a fortune—probably as much as a movie mogul. Lord, I’m babbling again, but then, I guess you could figure that out for yourself....” Cassie saw the slow smolder in Blake’s eyes and heard her words trail away.
His voice, still gruff, took up where she’d stopped. “Maybe you’ll have better luck today.”
“With what?” she asked dumbly.
“Getting a plumber,” he responded gently.
“Oh, yes. The plumber, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I waterlogged my brain.” She gestured helplessly at the long strands of wet hair. “And I forgot my shampoo. It’s in my bathroom, along with my robe. Normally I don’t go wandering the halls in...in just a towel.”
His gaze roved over her again, and suddenly she knew she wasn’t imagining the flare of attraction she saw in his eyes.
Silence fell between them, and Cassie struggled to fill it, knowing she had to turn his attention away from her. “I’d better hurry and get dressed, or the kids will eat Twinkies for breakfast.”
His gaze was still roaming over her, leaving a warm path. A path that threatened to leap into a full-fledged fire.
“That doesn’t sound so unappealing,” Blake responded, his eyes signaling what he did find appealing.
Feeling the beginnings of a blush, she answered quickly, rushing her words as she inched closer to her room. “But I doubt their teachers would appreciate a sugar high...from the Twinkies, I mean. I’d better get my...”
“Robe,” he finished for her.
“Uh...yes...my robe.”
She turned to flee, hurrying away.
Blake wasn’t sure how she managed it, but Cassie looked even sexier and more provocative in a towel than she had in that knockout swimsuit of hers. Especially with water beading over her slicked skin, creating fascinating rivulets that made him want to trace the path of each one with his lips.
It was a hell of a thing to wake up to. For a moment, he’d forgotten Cassie was his children’s nanny. His sense of what category of woman she fit into seemed to be getting fuzzier all the time.
In retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to install Cassie in the bedroom directly across from his. At the time, he’d thought the more traditional suite of rooms would be more comfortable for her and would ease the transition between their very different worlds. Children were more resilient. And they liked change, new adventures. To them the modern, high-tech house had been one of those fun new adventures. But he had suspected Cassie would be fighting homesickness.
Which was why her room was now directly across from his.
And the proximity was making him a little crazy. Looking at her closed bedroom door, he hoped from now on she planned to wear more than a towel when roaming the halls, a towel he itched to rip off. That, or she’d better take to carrying a big stick to club some sense into him.
GLANCING AT THE CLOCK, Cassie realized Blake should be home soon. She checked the hamper one more time. Everything they needed for a picnic in the park was there, except the cold drinks and fried chicken she planned to add at the last moment. She hoped Blake would go along with her impromptu picnic. In her opinion, the Matthews didn’t have enough family outings.
Wrapping freshly baked rolls in foil, she glanced up in surprise as the door to the kitchen swung open. “Decide you needed a break, Jimmy Ray? I figured you’d be on your computer.” She turned to the fridge, retrieving a bowl of freshly washed fruit. Offering him the fruit, she was surprised when he didn’t reach for any, instead shaking his head.
“Mama, can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” Seeing the troubled expression on his face, she felt a hitch of concern. “Something wrong?”
“Not exactly. Mama, do you like living here?”
She thought for a moment, considering her answer. “I like the Matthews. I like, the house. I think I’m even beginning to like L.A. Any special reason for wanting to know?”
“Are we going to stay here? You didn’t sound very sure the other night.”
Cassie wondered what was worrying her serious-minded child, now that their scare about the mortgage notes was past. “At least for a year. I signed a contract with Mr. Matthews, which you know he won’t let me break even if I want to. After that, we’ll have to see.” If her prayers were answered, she’d still have this one-in-a-
million job—even if it meant putting all of her emotions on the line to do so. She gently ruffled his longish hair. “Are you missing Twin Corners?”
“Sort of. But I was thinking that if we’re going to be staying here, maybe I ought to fit in more.”
Puzzled, she cocked her head. “But you’re fitting in fine.”
“Not exactly. Kevin’s right, Mama. I only fit in with the computer geeks.”
“But I thought you loved your computer classes, and—”
“I do. It’s just that I’d like to fit in other places, like I did back home. And, well...”
Sensing there was something he was reluctant to confide, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me.”
“It’s my name, Mama. Nobody here goes by two names. They shorten their first names till they’re almost nothing.”
“And having everyone call you Jimmy Ray is an albatross.”
“I didn’t mean that—”
“It’s okay. This is a different world from Twin Corners.” She bit back a stab of regret. With David John, she could dismiss his flippant new nickname, since he was only ten. But Jimmy Ray was fifteen. It was a more mature decision and, she suspected, a more lasting one. “So, what did you decide on?”
He hesitated. “What do you think of Jim?”
Very grown-up, very foreign. But she mustered a smile. “Sounds like a name that’ll fit in. You couldn’t get it any shorter, unless they just call you ‘J.’”
“You know the one guy who’s asked me to hang out—Brian—they call him ‘B.’ But he’s really popular...”
“And there’s no reason you won’t be, too. When the season starts, you’ll make more friends, being on the baseball team. And you’ve already been asked to join the yearbook staff.”
“I know, Mama.” Worry creased his adolescent brow. “But I don’t want you to think I’m like David John, just wanting to be cool. And I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten where we come from.”
“I think you’re a mature young man, and that you’ve given a lot of thought to this decision.” Her expression softened as she remembered the agonies, real and imagined, of being fifteen. “And I don’t think there’s much chance you’ll forget your roots. We’re going on a picnic for dinner.” She put a shiny apple in his hand. “This will keep you till then. You can try out your new name at dinner...Jim.”
He smiled, a flash of joy that turned him from somber to carefree in an instant. “Thanks, Mama.”
For a moment, she saw him as he’d been as a toddler, his bright, toothy grin, shiny curls and complete innocence. All that had changed. While she wouldn’t trade the wonderful young man he had become, she couldn’t help longing for those simpler, more naive days. “No problem,” she finally managed.
He rubbed the apple against his sleeve. “I can help you with supper.”
Although always helpful, he’d been inseparable from the computer unless he was at school or asleep. Touched, she realized there were advantages to his years, such as thoughtfulness. He was sensitive enough to realize that she might be upset or nostalgic about the name change.
“Dinner’s under control, but I could use your help loading the van. If Mr. Matthews agrees, I plan on a picnic, and we’ll need the tablecloth, blankets, cooler...”
Her voice trailed off when she saw Jimmy Ray’s grin. She smiled reluctantly in return. “I guess if you’re old enough to shorten your name, you’re old enough to figure out what we need on a picnic. Would you mind checking on David John and the twins? They’re in the pool and it’s about time for them to get out and get dressed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled open the back door, then paused and turned back around. “You’re the best, Mama.”
As he disappeared, Cassie felt a lump of gratitude thicken in her throat. She might not have the world, but she had the best kids in that world.
In a few minutes, the door opened again. Expecting Jimmy Ray, Cassie didn’t turn around. “You’d probably better put a few folding chairs in the van, too. The Matthews might not be used to sitting on the grass like we are.”
“I don’t know. I’ve sat on my share of grass.” Blake’s deep voice washed over her, and Cassie whirled in startled surprise.
“I thought you were Jimmy Ray.” As she felt the heat of embarrassment bloom in her cheeks; it was all Cassie could do not to throw her hands over her face to hide the telltale color.
But Blake was grinning. “I guessed as much. So where are we going that we’ll be sitting on the grass?”
“A picnic,” she blurted out. “That is...if you’re in agreement. I made fried chicken, potato salad and coleslaw. And I baked fresh rolls. Oh, and there’s a yellow cake with chocolate and Heath chip frosting. And fruit, too, so you won’t have a cholesterol attack. I know that’s important to you. That’s why the cake doesn’t have any eggs, the potato salad, either, and...” She saw the amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I guess I’m talking too much again.”
“I doubt you’re ever at a loss for words, Cassie, but that doesn’t mean you talk too much. Why the picnic?”
“It doesn’t seem like you have many family outings. I thought this might be a good opportunity to spend time together—no pressure, just a simple picnic.”
He shrugged. “If it doesn’t take too long. I’ve got work to do tonight.”
“I doubt you’ll ever be at a loss for having work to do,” she replied, mimicking his words, although not unkindly.
He smiled again. “Got my number, haven’t you?”
“I know your business is important to you, Mr. Matthews.”
He made a sound of distinct displeasure.
Worried, she bit her lip. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”
“Yes, Cassie, you did. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous to keep calling me Mr. Matthews?”
“You’re my employer, and—”
“That’s right. I am. And we’re not at the boardinghouse anymore, where you set the rules. Since theoretically I’m in charge, I want you to call me Blake.”
“But it’s not necessary—”
“Yes. It is.”
His eyes held hers, and Cassie felt a new emotion thickening her throat, along with a sizzle that had nothing to do with the sun blazing through the oversize windows. “Whatever you say...Blake.” Seeing his eyes darken, she scrabbled for something to fill the throbbing silence, something to divert the sudden turn in their conversation. She couldn’t jeopardize her job by letting herself believe there could be anything more than an employer-employee relationship. Too much was at stake that could be lost. “It seems that this is a day for name changes. Jimmy Ray decided he wants to be called Jim, so he’ll fit in at school. Seems the kids are all abbreviating their names...” She tried to look anywhere but at him. “And now you want me to call you...”
“Blake,” he supplied.
She found it was difficult to answer when he spoke in such a dangerously soft voice. Swallowing, she struggled for normality.
The back door banged open suddenly, and a swimsuitclad D.J. burst inside. “Jimmy Ray said we had to come in and get dressed,” he complained. “How come, Mama? It’s not supper-time yet.”
The twins followed, dragging their feet, both quieter than usual.
“Because we’re going on a picnic,” Blake answered for her. “You guys better hustle, or I’m eating your fried chicken...and potato salad...and maybe your cake.”
Squalls of protest filled the air as D.J. ran upstairs, not wanting to miss out on his favorites. The twins trailed him, obviously less concerned about their father’s threats.
Still, the noise rousted Kevin, who strolled into the kitchen. “Who’s torturing the twins?”
“Your father and I take turns,” Cassie replied.
“So, what’s up?”
“We’re going on a picnic,” she answered, offering him the bowl of fruit.
He ignored the outstretched bowl. “I don’t have time for junk like that.”
“I think you can take time out of your busy schedule,” Blake replied dryly.
“What is this? Now we’re supposed to be doing some sort of ‘Brady Bunch’ garbage?”
“Would you rather be ‘The Addams Family’?” Blake questioned, reaching for a nectarine.
Kevin rolled his eyes. “This is so dumb. Before she came here, we never had to do this hick stuff.”
Blake saw that Cassie was trying not to let Kevin’s comment affect her, but it was difficult to miss the tightened lips, the quick flash of hurt. He sensed that she’d been working hard to erase the signs of her rural back-ground—from her clothing to her way of speaking. “Just because we’re not used to going on picnics doesn’t make them hick stuff.” Blake draped his arm over Kevin’s shoulders. “Come on, champ. Let’s change, and you can help me load the cooler.” Blake led his grumbling son away, the door to the kitchen swinging shut behind them.
“Dad, how come you couldn’t hire someone from L.A.?”
“Why do you think I had to go all the way to Texas to find a nanny? Everybody in L.A. knows about you three.”
Kevin grinned unexpectedly. “Yeah, I guess we’re famous.”
“I think that’s notorious,” Blake replied dryly.
“Think Cassie knows why?”
Blake felt a sudden spurt of misgiving. “I don’t know. But don’t plan on anything that’ll get you more P.R.”
Kevin grinned again. “Sure, Dad.”
Darting a glance at his son, Blake wondered what was going through his ingenious mind, then, just as quickly, decided he didn’t want to know. Besides, after a few more great family outings, they’d all be singing a different tune.
THE TUNE, as they trooped back into the house a few hours later, was a cross between “Raindrops Are Falling on My Head” and “How Wet I Am.”
Clouds had scuttled across the sky as they arrived at the park, dimming the previously bright sunshine, along with a great deal of Cassie’s enthusiasm.
His-And-Hers Family Page 11
