“Actually, I’ve lost two husbands.”
“Two.” Hard enough to lose one spouse. “I’m surprised you can still smile.”
“You can always find something to smile about,” she said. “Like having someone show up just in time to change your tire.”
“Happy to do it.” He screwed the last lug nut in place and popped the hubcap back on, then started letting the car back down.
“Thank you again so much. I’d love to give you something to show my appreciation. If you like chocolate...”
Not particularly. But he did like Muriel. “I’ll pass on the chocolate. But how about having dinner with me? If you don’t have any other plans, that is.”
“I’d love to.”
“Great.” He was still in his work clothes and his hands were dirty from changing her tire. “Let me clean up first. Then I can pick you up.”
“No need to go to that trouble. Would you like to meet at Zelda’s? Say six o’clock?”
He’d rather have picked her up. But maybe she liked to play it cautious. Maybe she didn’t want some guy driving her home and expecting a good-night kiss. Or more.
“Sure,” he said. “That’ll be fine.”
Dinner out with a beautiful woman was fine, no matter how they arranged the details.
So much for the don’t piss in your own pool rule. It wasn’t practical anyway, he decided. Not when the pool was filled with attractive women.
* * *
Cass arrived home from work to find the surprise she’d ordered for Charley. She and Samantha had already informed her that they were throwing a baby shower when it got closer to her due date, but this was something Charley could enjoy right away. Cass had gotten the idea when she’d seen the wedding keepsake book Stacy gave Griffin at her bridal shower and figured there had to be something similar for expectant moms. Sure enough, there was. Charley would love this. She’d been so sure she’d never get pregnant and now here she was, expecting a baby. She and Dan were both excited and all their friends were excited on their behalf.
So after Cass had showered and fixed herself a bite to eat, she ran over to Johnson’s Drugs and picked up a gift bag and some tissue paper. Then, with her gift properly dressed, she made her way to the restaurant.
Six o’clock was rush hour at Zelda’s, but Charley still found time to greet her friend and, of course, open her present. “I love it!” she cried and hugged Cass. “You’re the best.”
“Aw, you’re only saying that ’cause it’s true.”
“Did you eat?”
It was a wonder Charley ever made a profit with all the free drinks and meals she handed out to her friends. “Yes, and you have to stop letting us all freeload off you.”
“Hey, I write it off,” Charley quipped. “How about a drink?”
Cass was about to say yes when she spotted Grant Masters seated at a corner table with Muriel Sterling-Wittman. Good thing she’d already eaten because there went her appetite.
Seriously, though, did she think she’d have a chance to grab his attention when a beautiful woman like Muriel was around? In addition to being beautiful, Muriel was also smart, kind and, yes, sweet. Who could compete with that?
Still, seeing them together was...well, disheartening. And she sure didn’t want to sit at a table and watch that for an hour.
Charley caught her looking and her easy smile was replaced by friendly concern. “Oh.”
“Don’t go ohing,” Cass said. “I’m not in the market for a man.” True enough. She didn’t need to go down that bumpy road again.
“They just met,” Charley explained.
It was bound to happen.
“She had a flat tire and he changed it. I don’t think it’s anything serious.”
It would be. How could it not? Two gorgeous people together. When it came to love, like called to like. Which meant Cass needed to keep her eyes peeled for a pudgy couch potato.
“Oh, stop! I wasn’t interested,” Cass lied. “Just drooling.”
“Then how about that drink?”
Sitting and watching pretty, perfect Muriel Sterling add another fan to her club would probably not be good for the old self-esteem. “I’ll pass. I’ve got an errand to run.” What that errand was would come to her once she was in her car.
Charley let her off the hook. “Okay. See you Sunday.”
Sunday was chick-flick night at Cass’s house. Yep, see? She had a social life. It just didn’t take place on Fridays.
Friday night, and she was on her own. But so what? It had been a long week, and she was too tired for a social life anyway. She had to work in the morning.
She was going home to an empty house.
The place hadn’t felt so empty back when she had her dog for company. No dogs, she told herself firmly. She already got little enough sleep. She didn’t want to have to house-train a puppy. Still, the animal shelter seemed to be drawing her like a magnet. It was open until seven and there was no harm in going in and seeing what they had.
Chita Wolfe was volunteering there, along with her husband, who was the local vet. Dr. Wolfe had taken care of Tiny when he was alive, helped Cass deal with the Saint Bernard’s death, even sent her a sympathy card afterward. He greeted her warmly as she came in, and Chita gave her a hug.
“We haven’t seen you in ages,” Chita said.
“I know. I’ve been busy.” Not to mention too upset over losing Tiny to consider another dog.
“I understand,” said the good doctor. “You’re interested in adopting a pet?”
“Well, maybe. I don’t want a puppy, though. Too much work.” She shook her head. “Actually, so is a dog.” Walking the dog, feeding the dog, cleaning up after the dog. What was she thinking, anyway?
“How about a cat?” Chita suggested.
“A cat.” Cass’s family had a cat when she was growing up. Tiger hadn’t been very friendly. In fact, Tiger had scratched Cass on more than one occasion simply for petting her when she wasn’t in the mood. Kitty PMS probably. “I don’t know. Cats are such snobs.”
“Not necessarily. Wait here.” Chita went through the door that led to the area where the animals available for adoption were kept. She returned a moment later, holding a gray cat with white paws. The animal was looking around as if to say, Why am I here? I deserve better.
Chita put the cat in Cass’s arms and it nuzzled against her neck and started purring. It was love at first sight. “Oh, my, you are darling,” Cass cooed. Then to Chita, “Why is she here?”
“Her owner died suddenly. The daughter is allergic to cats and couldn’t take her.” Chita frowned. “At least that’s what she said.”
“You’re an orphan. Poor kitty.”
“I doubt she’ll stay an orphan for very long. In fact, I’m half thinking of adopting her myself.”
“Then you should,” Cass said, but she couldn’t bring herself to give the cat back.
“We already have a menagerie. Anyway, she’d rather be an only child.”
“Would you?” Cass whispered to the cat.
The purr got louder.
“Does she have a name?”
“Lady Gray. She’s five, so she’s got plenty of good years left in her.”
It would be nice to have company, and a cat would be a lot less work than a dog. Or a man. Right? “So, Lady Gray, want to come home with me?”
“Of course she does,” Chita said. “Let’s have you fill out the paperwork. She’s been spayed, needless to say, and she’s all caught up on her shots, so you can take her home now. No home visit needed. We already know you’ve got a good home for her.”
Cass completed the paperwork, whipped out her handy-dandy credit card, and twenty minutes later she had a new roommate. Chita loaded Lady Gray into a temporary cat carrier, an
d Cass set out for home by way of Safeway, where she spent a small fortune on everything from cat food to a flea collar.
“Don’t feel guilty,” she told the cat as they drove off. “You’re still a heck of a lot cheaper than Tiny was. I spent that much on dog food in one week.”
Once they got home, Cass let her new furry friend loose and watched as the cat prowled the house, inspecting furniture, looking in corners. “You probably smell Tiny. Don’t worry, though. No dogs here anymore. Just us girls.”
She put away the cat paraphernalia, set out some food for Lady Gray and watched with satisfaction as the cat hunkered down and enjoyed her first meal in her new home. She set up the litter box in the downstairs bathroom and later that evening the cat used it like a pro.
Cass finally sat down to watch the latest episode of Game of Thrones, which she’d recorded, and the cat kept her distance. But partway through the program, she cautiously made her way across the couch and then onto Cass’s lap, where she kneaded Cass’s thighs, then settled down. Obviously, this animal had been well loved.
“So, you were brought up to believe the world revolves around you, huh? Of course it does. You’re a cat.”
Lady Gray head-butted her hand, demanding Cass put that hand to good use and pet her, and Cass obliged. Later, after Cass turned in for the night, something jumped onto the bed. A furry face sniffed at her and a loud purr announced, I’m here.
Cass smiled. It was good to have company. Who needed a man, anyway?
Had Grant Masters kissed Muriel good-night?
Chapter Eleven
The weatherman was predicting unseasonably warm weather and several days without rain, so Saturday found Grant up on Cass’s roof, Dan helping him pull off the old shingles. He’d hated to bug his son, since Saturday was normally Dan’s day off, and he and Charley usually spent time together, but Dan had volunteered.
“Cass is a good friend. I don’t mind helping. Anyway, you need me there to make sure you don’t fall off the roof and break your neck,” Dan had teased. “Besides, Charley’s pooped and is planning to lie on the couch all day and watch the Food Network, so you might as well use me.”
What the hell. He liked working with his son, always had. Dan had enjoyed building things ever since he got a toy hammer at the age of five. Both he and Matt had helped Grant with projects around the house when they were growing up and both had worked summers for him, learning the trade as they went. Until Matt decided he preferred the heat of the kitchen to the heat of the great outdoors. That worked for both Grant and Dan, as they’d often benefited from Matt’s passion for cooking.
“I hear you had a hot date last night,” Dan said as he tossed a handful of shingles into the rented Dumpster.
“Just dinner.”
That about summed it up. Muriel Sterling was a beautiful woman and a beautiful soul. But the sparks hadn’t exactly flown. She was sweet. Too sweet. So sweet she made his fillings hurt.
Talking with her had felt like reading some cheesy self-help book. When the subject of the loss of their spouses came up, she’d smiled—sweetly, of course—and said, “But isn’t it comforting to know they’re in a better place?”
No, actually, it wasn’t.
“I think without the hard things in life, we never find out what we’re made of.”
He didn’t want to know what he was made of.
“It’s hard being alone, but I’m thankful I have my daughters and so many good friends. People talk about seeing the glass as half-full. When I look at my life, I see that glass as overflowing.”
Gack.
Okay, it was good to have a positive attitude, but if he had to listen to that on a regular basis he’d probably climb Sleeping Lady Mountain and jump.
“Just dinner, huh?” Dan prodded.
“She’s a nice woman. Not really my type. Anyway, it’s best not to get involved with the local women.” Back out of the pool.
“Yeah, you might decide you want to end up with one of them, like I did.”
“Charley’s one of a kind.”
“She’s got friends. Like Cass.”
Grant shook his head. “Too young.”
“Well, then, maybe it’s time you came into the same century as the rest of us and tried some online dating.”
Grant frowned. “Did your wife put you up to this?” Women couldn’t stand to see a man single. What was that about, anyway?
“No. Well, we were talking.”
“Find somebody for the old guy and get him out of your hair?” Grant joked.
“No. Hell, no. We just... Well, you know, Dad, it’s been a while since...” He clamped his lips shut and threw some more shingles off the roof.
“I know.”
“Mom would want you to be happy.”
“I’m happy,” Grant insisted. As long as he kept busy and didn’t think about Lou and the life he’d lost when she died.
“Nobody’s saying you have to run out and get married tomorrow, but you could at least have some fun.”
“What? We’re not having fun up here?”
“Oh, yeah. I like sweating on a hot roof,” Dan said with a teasing grin. He sobered. “You should check it out. There’s a whole bunch of sites out there for people your age.”
“Old guys,” Grant translated.
Dan ignored him. “Charley found a couple of them. One’s called Mature Mates.”
“Oh, yeah. That appeals to me.” Not.
“Time to Connect?”
“Time to talk about something else.” Mature Mates? Ugh.
* * *
Cass came home from the bakery to find Grant and Dan Masters up on her roof. Both men had their shirts off and were sweating. It had to be hot up there.
It was hot down here on the ground. Just looking at Grant Masters’s broad shoulders and washboard abs got Cass feeling warm and toasty in all the right places. She didn’t even want to guess what he thought of her. She’d ditched the hairnet as soon as she was done with work (not that it helped—sweating in a hot kitchen didn’t do much for your hair’s body and bounce) and she’d put on some lip gloss before leaving. But the grubby cutoffs and ratty T-shirt with a picture of a rolling pin on it weren’t exactly high fashion. Neither was the caption on the shirt. This Is How I Roll. Well, it was. She didn’t have a high-fashion job and she wasn’t a high-fashion dresser.
“Hey there, you two,” she called. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” Dan called.
“You look like you could use a drink. How about some iced tea?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m ready for a break,” Dan said and started down the ladder.
Cass hurried inside the house with the box of treats she’d brought home from work. Grant had told her he’d be over, so she’d come home, if not gorgeous, at least prepared.
As if gingerbread boys could compete with a beautiful woman. Still, she couldn’t not feed someone who was sweating in the blazing sun on her behalf. She laid her offerings on a plate, then filled two glasses with ice and lavender iced tea, put everything on a tray and carried it out to where the two men now sat on the front steps.
“All right! Cookies,” Dan said and scooped up one.
Grant took a long drink of his iced tea. “This is good.”
“It’s got lavender in it.”
“A girl drink,” Dan teased, but he downed most of his in one gulp.
“Yeah, I can see how much you hate that girl drink.”
“Hey, I’m being polite. And I’m thirsty. How about some more?”
“You got it,” she said and went to fetch the pitcher. By the time she returned, both Dan and Grant had drained their glasses.
“You gonna join us?” Dan asked as she poured refills.
“Maybe for a minute.”
She dropped into an Adirondack chair, all the while wishing she’d had a chance to pretty up. Why was it that when men got all sweaty and grubby, they looked sexier, while women just looked wilted?
A whiff of musky man drifted her way and sent her hormones into a screaming fit. Settle down, ladies. There’s nothing happening here. Darn.
“These are really good,” Grant said and helped himself to another cookie.
“Everything Cass bakes is really good,” Dan said, wolfing down the last of his second one. He took a third and started for the ladder.
“There’s still one left,” Cass said, just being polite, of course. No sneaky ploy to keep Mr. Masters on the step, talking longer. Oh, no.
He picked up the last cookie and took a bite. “You always liked to bake?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What made you decide to do it for a living?”
“I was a single mom. I had to do something and I was good at this.”
“You still like doing it?”
“I do. People love what I bake and that boosts the old self-esteem. Heck, I like what I bake. Carbs and sugar, there’s nothing better in the whole world. Well, except...” Sex. Sex, sex, sex! She censored herself before she could go further. Judging by the smile on his face, he’d known what she was about to say. Her cheeks suddenly felt as if she’d been leaning over a hot oven. “I spend way too much time with my girlfriends. I forget how to behave in polite company.”
“Nobody’s ever called me that before,” he said.
“You seem polite.”
“I can be good.”
She suspected he could be bad, too. Sigh. Here she was at her sexual peak, and she had nobody to peak with.
He was regarding her curiously. Interesting specimen, Cass Wilkes. “You’re still a young woman. Ever think about getting out there and dating?”
“In Icicle Falls? This isn’t exactly Singles Central. What about you? You’re single.” And I saw you having dinner with Muriel last night.
He shrugged.
“Chicken.”
“That’s me. And on that note, I guess I’d better fly back up to the roof.”
Starting Over on Blackberry Lane--A Romance Novel Page 13
