After D.J. and the twins dropped the hamper upside down, spilling all the food into the grass, Blake had heartily insisted the meal was still fine. While everyone was picking blades of grass from the potato salad and between their teeth, a huge wind had come up, sending the tablecloth, the quilts and the paper plates, cups and napkins flying. While everyone tried to catch the scattered debris, Gulliver had chased a nearby cat that turned on the dog, scratched his nose and then chased him through the adjoining picnic sites. Before the kids could corral him, Gulliver had made an even bigger mess of their upturned hamper and debris, not to mention the picnic supplies of several angry strangers.
As they struggled to gather their things, rain had poured suddenly and insistently, soaking them all as they battled the wind to retrieve the runaway quilts and paper goods.
An accusing silence had filled the van as they rode home, everyone shivering in the chill of sodden clothes. Now, as they trooped inside one by one, the Matthews children divided their glares between Cassie and Blake.
“I told you this was a dumb idea,” Kevin threw back over his shoulder before pounding up the stairs.
“Yeah,” the twins chimed, following their brother.
Jimmy Ray headed into the laundry room with the sodden quilts and tablecloth, sending his mother a comforting glance. “You can’t control the weather.”
Blake put the destroyed hamper on the counter. “You’re right about that, Jim.”
Looking pleased that Blake used the shortened version of his name casually, Jimmy Ray came back into the kitchen, taking some fruit from the fridge. “I’ve got a project due next week I’d better work on.”
Smiling wearily, Cassie tapped his arm. “That’s fine Jim—” She stopped before calling him Jimmy Ray. Barely.
Katherine Ann and D.J. trailed in the back door, with a sad-looking Gulliver.
“I think he’s okay, Mama,” Katherine Ann announced. “That cat hurt his pride more than his nose.”
“But I think I’d better take him upstairs with me,” DJ. added.
“Hold on—” Cassie began.
Blake intervened, sensing that Cassie was close to the end of her patience. “Sounds like a good idea. He’ll settle down after he dries out.”
Cassie tried again. “But the wooden floor—”
“I’ll put down lots of towels,” DJ. pleaded. “And he’ll be good.”
Blake waved D.J. and Gulliver toward the back staircase.
“Try not to use the best towels,” Cassie relented, before muttering under her breath, “although all of your towels are good ones.”
“That can be washed,” Blake pointed out.
Cassie leaned back against the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Well, I guess that wasn’t exactly a smashing success.”
“As your son pointed out, you couldn’t control the weather.”
Earnestly Cassie glanced up at him. “But I wanted it to be a good experience, one to build on, so your boys would want to spend time with you as a family. But after today, they’ll all probably run shrieking the next time I suggest something.”
“I don’t know....” he mused. “I doubt you could top yourself—unless, of course, you can whip up an earthquake or tornado.”
She smiled finally—a flash of sunshine amid the storm—and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d have expected her to either rage, sulk or whine, but instead it seemed she was finding a renewed burst of good humor, despite her drenched clothing. He allowed his gaze to drift downward, something he’d restrained himself from doing until now.
The rain had plastered her T-shirt and shorts to her form, leaving only a few flimsy barriers between her body and his gaze. And the more he looked, the more he wanted to continue looking.
She pushed suddenly at the heavy sheet of her wet hair. “I’d probably better go take a shower.”
Their eyes met at her unfortunate choice of words, their meeting that morning in the hallway flashing between them.
Blake couldn’t understand the strong effect she was having on him, the pull he felt. Although he’d dated since Elizabeth’s death, none of the casual dates had involved any emotional connection. And that was what he was feeling now. He had a strong urge to peel away the layers, to learn more about this so-surprising woman. He wondered at the secrets she kept hidden, the many sides of her personality that continued to startle him.
And the undeniable attraction that ricocheted between them.
Unable to resist, Blake reached out one hand, seeing the sudden trembling of her lips, the darkening of her silver eyes.
Footsteps sounded on the back stairs as the twins came into the room.
“We’re hungry,” Mark announced.
Blake tore his gaze from Cassie, knowing they’d interrupted a hunger of his own, a far different hunger.
“And we don’t want anything with grass in it,” Todd added, his tone far nastier than usual.
“That’s enough, Todd,” Blake warned.
The boy stuck out his lip belligerently. Still, it trembled slightly. “Fine. I don’t want anything, anyway.” He ran back up the stairs before Blake could reply.
Mark filled his arms with a loaf of bread, peanut butter, jelly, grapes, and at least a dozen cookies. He sent Cassie a challenging look, but she didn’t question his choices. As he retreated up the stairs, no doubt to share his loot with Todd, Blake shook his head.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into them. I’m sorry, Cassie. They shouldn’t speak to you in that tone.”
But she wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she gazed after Mark with a worried expression. “Something’s wrong with them.”
“They’re probably just cranky because they’re hungry.”
“No. They’ve been quiet the last few days, too quiet. I thought maybe they were coming down with colds or the flu, but I don’t think that’s it.”
“Don’t worry so much, Cassie. Kids act up, they get over it.”
She raised her gaze to him. “Much like adults?”
“What do you mean?”
“That adults sometimes think they can start something, then walk away. It’s not always that easy.”
Feeling as though his hand had been slapped...simply for his thoughts...Blake drew his brows together. “Meaning?”
“That I need to be concentrating on my job...your children rather than being distracted.”
“Am I distracting you?” He studied her face, wondering whether she would admit that she was equally affected.
“Maybe I’m simply distracting myself,” she replied, not answering his question.
He saw her resolve assert itself, saw the strength he knew she possessed chase away the softness. Perhaps she was right. He’d hired her to work with his kids, not to work him into a frenzy. So she wanted distance. That shouldn’t be too difficult. But he planned to find a plumber tomorrow, if he had to pay a king’s ransom. Any more towel-draped encounters, and the only distance she’d find would be on the path to his bedroom.
The doorbell rang suddenly and insistently. Cursing beneath his breath, Blake turned just as Maria entered the kitchen, the sound of impatient high heels tapping behind her. “Mrs. Kerara is here,” Maria announced unnecessarily as Daphne walked past her, eclipsing the need for a reply.
Blake saw the unguarded look on Cassie’s face before she fixed a resolute expression in place. Sighing inwardly, Blake wondered why his sister-in-law had chosen to make more appearances in the past month than she had in the past year. True, she asked for investment advice, but most of her questions could have been answered by phone or fax. “Slumming again, Daphne?”
She presented her flawless cheek for a kiss. “Hardly, darling.” Then her gaze settled on Cassie’s bedraggled appearance, and her lips curved in wicked pleasure. “Although I can see why you asked.”
Blake winced on Cassie’s behalf. He knew no woman enjoyed being caught looking her worst. Purposely, he glanced down ruefully at his drenched shirt and jeans. “I’ve
never looked my best wearing wet clothes,” he replied, hoping to direct Daphne’s unkind comment away from Cassie.
Daphne’s gaze traveled slowly over his form. “Oh, I don’t know. You could start a trend.” Then her gaze settled deliberately on Cassie. “What do you think, Cassie?”
Hesitating only slightly, Cassie was proud that her voice emerged strong and steady. “I’ve never been much for trends myself.”
“How fortunate for you. After all, I don’t imagine living in Outer Mongolia would make it easy to follow trends.”
“I don’t live in Twin Corners anymore,” Cassie reminded her in a deceptively mild tone.
“So you don’t. Still, trends aren’t really your style, are they?”
Cassie glanced between the two beautiful people dominating the room, knowing with a sinking feeling that Daphne was right. Only one person in their tableau seemed out of place. And it wasn’t the golden couple she was staring at. They belonged. She was the outsider.
Chapter Ten
After watching and listening to the twins for a few more days, Cassie still didn’t know what was bothering them, only that something was wrong. Deciding she couldn’t learn what it was without help, and since Blake had left the country again on another business trip, she approached D.J.
Her son’s room, decorated in his new idea of cool, was still somewhat of a shock to her. Posters had replaced cartoons, CDs had taken the place of airplane models, and a stack of teen magazines had shoved aside his forgotten rock collection. Bending over, she automatically picked up a T-shirt emblazoned with an indecipherable slogan. Part of DJ.’s new wardrobe and identity.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, yourself. Working on your homework?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He twisted around in his chair, grinning up at her. “I got a great idea for making some more money. Kids here are willing to pay to have their homework done.”
Cassie kept from choking, with an effort. Ah, her little entrepreneur. “But you can’t do it for them. That’s cheating.”
“But it’s not a test, Mama.”
“No. But it’s the same thing. It’s simply dishonest. Not to mention, if these kids don’t do their own homework, they won’t be able to pass their tests, because they won’t have learned their assignments.”
DJ. bent his head over his desk for a moment, frowning at the page of numbers he’d been scribbling on. “It’s really cheating?”
“Absolutely.”
He sighed, then reached for the paper, crumpling it up. “Guess I’ll have to find another way to pay for my Porsche.”
Cassie hid her smile. “Guess so. Listen, champ, do you know if anything’s bothering the twins?”
He shrugged. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve been awfully quiet lately.”
“Oh... Yeah, well, it’s ’cause of the other kids and stuff.”
“Aren’t they pretty popular in school?”
“Sure, but the other kids have been giving them the business ’cause they haven’t got a mother to bring to their class.”
Cassie wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand.”
“Their grade is having teacher appreciation week. The other kids’ mothers are bringing treats and stuff. Even the kids with stepmothers are getting them to come. And the ones that work are coming before school or during lunch. So Mark and Todd said they didn’t have to do dumb stuff like that ‘cause they don’t appreciate the teacher. She got mad and made them clean the room, and the kids started picking on ’em and saying they just said that ’cause they don’t have a mother.”
The sudden constriction in her throat made Cassie pause. For all their toughness, Mark and Todd were still motherless little boys. “Would it be okay if their dad came instead?”
D.J. shrugged. “Nobody else had their fathers come.... It might make ’em feel even dumber.”
Cassie took another stab at an unlikely alternative. “How about their aunt?”
D.J. looked at her as though she’d suggested sending Godzilla. “Daphne?”
“Okay. Bad idea. Can you say anything to help them at school?”
“Gee, Mama, I’m the new kid. Nobody listens to me.”
She reached out to ruffle his hair. “Let’s keep this talk just between us, okay?”
“Sure, Mama. You got any ideas so I can make money?”
Smiling, she walked to the doorway. “Yes. Study hard so you can get into a good college.”
THE PHONE RANG, and Cassie glanced automatically at the clock on her bedside table. It was late for someone to be calling. She hoped nothing was wrong with her mother. Unexpectedly nervous, she grabbed for the phone, and her voice was breathy with concern as she answered.
“Cassie?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Blake.”
She nearly sighed aloud with relief, then glanced again at the clock. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why’d you think something was wrong?”
She remembered his last two trips, the solitary phone call during each one to check on his children. So far, he’d called every other day on this trip. “No reason. The phone ringing at night after I go to bed always startles me.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.”
“But you are in bed?” he asked, a different note in his voice.
She blushed, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. The skimpy nightgown she wore was in deference to the unexpectedly warm temperature. “Uh...yes,” she answered, reaching out to pull the light cotton blanket over her legs. “But I guess you’re up and about.” Even with her legs covered, she broke into a nervous babble. “With the time difference and all, it can’t be bedtime there. You must have already had your breakfast. Kippers. I’m not sure about eggs, though. They have kippers for breakfast, don’t they? And...”
Amusement flared in his soft chuckle. “And I thought you might be too tired to talk.”
A flush of tidal-wave-size embarrassment washed over her. “It must be costing a fortune to call from across the world. I guess you want to talk to the boys, and—”
“Wait! I’ll talk to them in a minute. And, yes, they do have kippers in England, but I’m in Paris now. And I had fresh croissants for breakfast. Don’t tell my London office, but the food here’s much better.”
“Can you see the Eiffel Tower?” Cassie asked, a sigh of dreamy envy permeating her voice.
“Not from my hotel room, but I’m sure it’s still here.”
“Then you are at your hotel?”
“Yes, but I’m not lucky enough to be tucked in bed.”
Awareness flared again. Despite her enchantment with the city she’d often dreamed about, Cassie couldn’t get past the image of them talking while in bed, linked by a telephone, separated by an ocean. “But you have all of Paris at your feet.”
“Sometimes a man wants more than a city at the end of a day.”
It was ridiculous, she told herself, to have her heart threatening to jump from her chest simply at his words. Words spoken on a telephone. Two continents away.
Cassie cleared her throat, scrabbling for normality, wishing at the same time that she could fling responsibility away and dive into the warmth she heard in his voice. “Paris isn’t just a city. It’s light and dark...and art and couture, and the Left Bank, and the Louvre and—”
“And the Champs Élysées,” he added. “But that’s not a street you want to stroll on alone.”
No, in her dreams she’d always walked hand in hand with a handsome stranger down the famous boulevard. “Surely you have contacts there.”
She could almost hear the shrug she knew he was making. “That’s not quite the same thing.”
Regretfully, Cassie knew it was time to change the subject, to skirt this dangerous one. “Daphne came by again today. She wanted to know when you’d be home. I told her it would depend on how your business goes.”
“You could have told her I was taking a sabbatical.”
; And Daphne would have followed him across the world, Cassie concluded silently. “She wanted to check on the boys.”
“Cassie?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t call to talk about Daphne.”
A strident knocking on her bedroom door startled Cassie. Recovering, she spoke above the receiver. “Come in.”
Kevin stood at the doorway, obviously unwilling to enter her room, equally obviously wanting something. She smiled at him. “Your dad’s on the phone. He called to talk to you and your brothers.”
Kevin looked skeptical at best. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Then she spoke into the receiver. “Stroke of luck. Kevin’s right here. I’ll go collect the twins while you two talk.”
Cassie heard a brief, aborted snort of exasperation before he spoke in a resigned tone. “I’m not sure how you managed that, but you can put Kevin on in a minute. First, how are the twins?”
She stalled. “Why don’t you see for yourself when you get home?”
“There’s not anything you’re not telling me?”
Two of her fingers slid together behind her back. “Of course not. Except for one thing. The boys and I are glad you’re calling. Here’s Kevin.”
Not waiting to hear any more questions, Cassie thrust the phone at Kevin and disappeared, not sure whether she was more uncomfortable from avoiding talking about the twins...or from simply avoiding hearing what else Blake might have said, had Kevin not interrupted. Deciding it might not be safe to dwell on that answer, she sped toward the twins’ room and away from any more questions, guessing she’d spend the night dreaming of strolling down the Champs Élysées. But this time the handsome man would no longer be a stranger.
CASSIE GLANCED at the peasant skirt she wore, hoping the outfit wasn’t too much. Gripping the platter in her hands, she fixed a smile on her face and walked through the open door, into the classroom.
Mrs. Roman, the twins’ teacher, greeted her with a big smile. Since Cassie’d had a heart-to-heart with the teacher, Mrs. Roman now understood the pain behind the twins’ inappropriate comments, and was more than willing to help Cassie with her stand-in-mother plan for providing the class lunch.
His-And-Hers Family Page 12
