by KyAnn Waters
She stilled. “Trent, this is dangerous.”
He gave a low laugh. She wasn’t kidding.
He allowed his hand to drop back to his side. “You talk in your sleep, you know.”
She looked at him, lips parted. “I do not.”
What would she do if he kissed her again? Last night, he’d gotten lucky when Tomas showed up at the restaurant. After all, she couldn’t refuse to play the part of his wife in public. Now, however, they were alone.
“I’m going to head out and see if I can catch a flight on standby.”
Trent slipped his hands into his pockets. He’d known from their first encounter that she was practical and professional. Why was he losing perspective?
“Liam is preparing the jet.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes,” he countered, and smiled. “It’s my fault for keeping you out so late last night.” She might want to keep it professional. He wanted more.
She sipped her coffee and nodded. “Probably, but I’ll take the standby.”
“Please,” he said. “There is no reason to sit around the airport all day hoping to get on a flight.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You need to get back. The jet has a bedroom. You can sleep.”
“I’m not tired.” Her shoulders drooped. “I actually slept great. I can handle a standby flight.”
“Let me do this for you.”
“Fine. How soon can I leave?”
The tone of her voice hit him like a punch to the gut. “Twenty minutes. You have time to finish your coffee.”
Twenty minutes later, Trent stood in the doorway and watched Henry open the car door for Cassie. When the limo disappeared from view, Trent went up to visit his grandfather.
“He’s resting,” Annie said. “He had a rough night.”
Trent approached the bed. A hollow feeling settled over him. “What am I going to do without him?”
Annie rested her hand on his arm. “He’s doing okay. He complains, but I think he just likes to fuss. Eventually, he does what I ask.” She smiled. “Mostly.”
“I’m grateful for the care you give him.”
Annie returned to her little television in the corner, and Trent headed to his bedroom. After a shower, he’d throw himself into work and forget about the last few days. He entered his bedroom and stopped short. The bed was already made and the room immaculate, just like the rest of his carefully organized life. But the blouse Cassie had worn last night lay draped over the back of the corner chair. He should hang it up. Out of sight, out of mind. Instead, he stared at the damned thing another full minute before turning away.
What the hell was wrong with him? He had work that wouldn’t complete itself. Trent closed the door, irritated with himself for getting hooked on a woman who was a temporary solution to an unforeseen situation.
He strode to the bathroom, determined to get his thoughts together and put Cassie out of his mind. He pulled his t-shirt over his head as he stepped into the bathroom, hung it on the hook to the left of the door, then sluffed off his jeans and hung them over the t-shit. Trent reached into the shower and twisted the knob on, then shoved his boxer briefs from his hips and kicked them aside. Steam began to roll out of the shower and he turned to step inside. A sparkle on the counter caught his eye. The diamond ring sat beside the wedding band. Tent felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach with a baseball bat. It only made sense that Cassie would leave the rings there, but it hadn’t occurred to him she would. He picked up the diamond and stared at the solitaire. The large diamond was attention grabbing, just like the woman he’d purchased it for. Lindsey.
But it belonged on Cassie’s finger.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassie stared at her cell phone, which sat on the desk in front of her. She hadn’t discussed with Trent about staying in communication. She just assumed they’d talk if they needed to. It had been two days since she left, and Trent hadn’t called. That had to mean James was all right. Still, she worried what he would think of her. Didn’t a new wife call home? Trent could always tell him she’d called, but wouldn’t James be disappointed if she didn’t speak with him at least once while she was away?
Cassie blew out a frustrated breath. She was more concerned with what James thought of her than the man she’d been dreaming about. Geez, the dreams. Trent’s hands on her breasts, his mouth melded with hers and his body…. She ached to feel the weight of him on top of her. In her dreams, there was nothing between them but passion.
But she lived in reality. She had to remember that she and Trent had a business arrangement. If she called, it would be strictly business. But that last night they’d spent together didn’t feel like business. Neither had the morning after. When Trent had tucked her hair behind her ear her heart had pounded so loudly she’d been sure he could hear its beat.
She picked up the phone, then set it back down. Dammit, things would be so much simpler if she could convince herself that James was the reason she wanted to call. But she wasn’t stupid, and James hadn’t taken up residence in her thoughts. She would just have to force herself to forget about Trent—at least until she had to see him again. She stared at the phone another minute. If she kept too much of a distance he might consider her in breach of contract. He was paying her well to pretend to be his wife, and wives called home.
Cassie picked up the phone and was peeved to see her fingers tremble. Get over it, she ordered, and pulled up Trent’s number. She tapped the screen and started to put the phone to her ear. No, speakerphone. Much more businesslike. She almost fumbled the phone in an effort to tap the speakerphone icon. A ringtone sounded, then another and another before Trent picked up.
“Hi,” Cassie said before Trent’s voice came over the line. “You’ve reached Trent Weston. I’m away at the moment. Please leave a message.” Panic streaked through her. Did she hang up or leave a message? She started to hit the end call button. Then realized he might worry. Crap, she didn’t really have anything to say. The phone beeped.
“Uh, Trent, it’s Cassie. I was just calling to see how things are with your grandfather. Tell him I said hello.” She hung up, then lowered her head to her desk and softly banged her forehead against the wood. He was going to think she was so stupid. He would be right.
Her phone blared. She jumped back then scrambled to pick it up. Trent— Her heart fell. It was her mother. Cassie tapped the speakerphone before realizing that she would rather not speak to her mother just yet. Mom had been in Jacksonville visiting cousins when Cassie returned, so they hadn’t seen each other yet, which had suited Cassie just fine. She would have loved to have avoided her mother until her business with Trent was finished. But no such luck.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Cassandra, it’s late. I tried calling your home, but no answer. Are you still at work?”
That was her mother. No ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘how was your trip?’ Regardless of her age, Cassie would always be accountable to her mother. Sometimes an overbearing family could be an annoyance.
She checked the clock. Only ten. “It’s not that late, and yes, I’m still at work.”
“You work too hard.”
“I have a big party in two days and I still have a thousand things to do.” And she did, but she could be home catching up on sleep. Truth was, she hadn’t wanted to go home. Her little bungalow, her haven, had been strangely silent last night. She couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts were too tangled around Trent. When she got home tonight, she wanted to fall into bed exhausted. No dreaming. No thoughts at all. Another couple of hours would do the trick.
Her mother’s voice pulled her back to the conversation. “What’s that, Mom?”
“Will you come for dinner tomorrow night?” her mother said.
Normally, that’s exactly what Cassie would do. Now, however…
“Your Uncle Bobby will be here.”
“Bobby?” Cassie said. The great uncle who her
youngest brother was named after. “When did he come into town?”
“He’ll be here tomorrow. So I expect you for dinner.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good girl. How was your trip to Colorado? Was it the big break you hoped it would be?”
Cassie closed her eyes. She’d known her mother would ask. Of course she would ask. “Every event has its unexpected incidences.”
“You don’t sound happy. What happened?”
“Nothing more than the usual. Late deliveries, not enough servers. You know how it goes. In the end, the party was a success and the client was happy.” That wasn’t a lie.
“Then your client was lucky you stepped in when you did.”
“Yes.”
“Six o’clock tomorrow,” her mother said. “Your uncle Bobby is old. We don’t know how many years he has left.”
“I know, Mom. I’ll be there.” Family. That was all anyone really had.
***
“Look who’s here,” Bobby announced as Cassie entered her mother’s house. “Aunt Cassie!” her niece Olivia cried. Half a dozen younger children cried out and rushed her.
Cassie tossed her purse onto the carpet beside a curio cabinet, then braced herself for the onslaught and allowed the kids to tackle her to the carpet. Their giggles and cries of delight salved her soul as nothing else could. This is what life was all about. A moment later, Bobby’s large hand reached down and pulled the first urchin off her, then another until he grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. He was her younger brother, but not so little anymore. Six-two, and underneath the lumberjack beard, the Adams family cleft chin.
“Go and play, squirt,” he said to the last of the children. Five-year-old Cathy flashed a saucy look then stuck out her tongue and darted away.
“They’re almost too big for that anymore, Cass,” he said. “And you’re not getting any younger.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said as she scooped up her purse. Only a brother would dare say such a thing.
“Cassandra.”
Cassie turned toward her mother. She emerged from the kitchen with Cassie’s oldest cousin Sophia two steps behind. Cassie hurried forward and hugged them.
Her mother pulled back and Cassie said, “Papa’s not home?”
“No, he’s on a long haul out of state. Georgia, I think.”
“Isn’t papa getting too old to drive a big rig on such long hauls?” Cassie asked.
Her mother snorted. “You act as if fifty-nine is old.” She frowned. “You look tired.”
Cassie smiled. “Just busy. Once this party is over I’ll be able to rest a bit.” And once she could sleep rather than tousle with Trent all night long in her dreams.
“Then Sunday you should come for mass and lunch.”
“I said I would take it easy. I didn’t say I had the day off.” How was she going to explain her return to Colorado?
“You need to go to church. You can work in the afternoon.” Her mother turned and headed back into the kitchen.
Sophia nodded toward the dining room. “How about some wine?”
“Perfect.” Cassie followed her into the dining room. The extra leaf had been put into the table and it dominated the center of the room.
“Who all is coming tonight?” Cassie asked.
“Half the family. The youngest kids will be eating in the kitchen with some of the older kids.”
They reached a small sideboard on the far wall and Sophia poured two glasses of white wine, then handed Cassie a glass. Cassie sipped as Sophia picked up a corkscrew and began scoring the foil capsule on an unopened bottle of red wine.
“She’s going to be upset when you don’t show up on Sunday,” Sophia said.
“God, what does she have planned now?” Cassie asked. “Because I have to get back—” She stopped before she said too much.
“Back to what?” Sophia pulled the foil cap from the wine, set the bottle on the sideboard, and positioned the corkscrew on the top of the cork. “Or should I ask, back to whom? It wouldn’t, by chance, be the owner of that sexy voice I heard the other night?”
“Like I said, it’s just business.” It wasn’t a lie, even if she did wish there was more than just business between her and Trent.
“Come on, Cassie. Remember who you’re talking to.”
“Don’t ask anything because I have nothing to tell,” Cassie replied.
Sophia glanced over her shoulder. “Don’t let your mother hear you or she’ll call in Father Victor to hear your confession.”
“Why do you think I have anything to confess?”
“The more you deny it, the more I know you’re hiding something juicy.” Cassie opened her mouth to reply, but Sophia cut her off. “I know that look, Cass. You’ve got other plans for Sunday. If I were you, I wouldn’t tell her and then just not show up. She’s a human lie detector.” Cassie blew out a breath and Sophia laughed. “That’s what you get for telling her you have time to rest on Sunday.”
Cassie grimaced. “You’d think by now I would know better.”
“Yeah, one would think.”
The doorbell rang and a moment later, Danny called out, “It’s Uncle Bobby.”
Cassie gathered with everyone else to hug the oldest member of their family—aside from Grandma Rosa—when the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it,” she called. Cassie hurried to the door and opened it to find Antonio waiting.
His eyes lit. “Cassandra, bella,” he said in a strong Italian accent. He entered and hugged her before she could stop him.
Cassie drew back and took two steps away from him. “Antonio, what are you doing here?” As if she didn’t know.
Sophia appeared in the foyer. “Antonio. Well, this is a surprise.”
Cassie shot her a dark look.
Sophia held her hands up, palms facing out. “Don’t look at me.” She smiled at Antonio. “It’s wonderful to have you.” Then she looked at Cassie. “But I didn’t invite him.”
Cassie had to have a talk with her mother.
The evening wore on. By the time they sat down at the dinner table, Cassie’s tension had eased, despite her mother’s matchmaking. She’d missed this. They were loud, they loved to tease, and they were family. As usual, dinner was a major production. Mom’s homemade marinara and meatballs.
“Someone’s going to have to roll me home, I’m so stuffed,” Cassie said.
Sophia leaned over and whispered. “Someone we should call, maybe that sexy man—”
Cassie snapped her gaze onto her cousin.
“Bella,” Antonio said, “more spaghetti?”
Cassie turned to her attention to Antonio, who sat to her right. She shook her head. “No. I’m full.”
“Full?” he repeated.
Cassie pointed to her stomach and repeated, “Full.”
“Ah.” He nodded.
“He’s trying so hard,” Sophia whispered on her left.
Out of the side of her mouth, Cassie said, “Shut up, or I’ll take you outside and tie you the tree like I did when we were eight.”
Two of the younger children raced into the living room.
Mia jumped from the table and hurried after them. “Wash your hands,” she scolded. “If you get grandma’s couch grubby, she’s going to put you out on the porch.”
Cassie’s mother stood. “It’s time for dessert and coffee.”
“We’ll help, Auntie,” Sophia said. “Come on, Danielle. You, too, Cassie.”
Cassie and Danielle stood, then Antonio stood.
“No,” Cassie said. “Antonio, you stay here.” She gently pushed him back into his seat.
His brow furrowed, and Cassie wasn’t sure if he didn’t understand her or didn’t agree. He hurried from the dining room into the kitchen.
“The zabaglione is in the refrigerator, Cassandra,” her mother said.
“You made zabaglione?” Cassie said. “I haven’t had that in years.” She pulled the zabaglione from the refrigerator. Her mouth already watered.<
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“Sophia, the custard cups are in the cabinet above your head.” Her mother pointed to the cabinet. “Put them on this tray.”
Cassie set the velvety custard on the counter. Sophia began arranging the cups on a tray. “Mom, dinner was delicious.”
“I’ll make something special for Sunday, too. Maybe I can get you to come home more often if I appeal to your sweet tooth.”
Cassie would be back in Colorado on Saturday night. But before she had to invent an excuse, Mia entered the kitchen, a cell phone pressed to her ear. “Sure, Cassie is here.”
Cassie paused in pulling a cup from the cabinet and looked at Mia. “Is that my phone?”
Mia nodded. “James Weston?”
Cassie fumbled the cup she held and it clattered against the others on the tray. Several tumbled onto their sides. Please, don’t let anything be wrong. Was it his health or was he calling about Trent?
“Cassandra,” her mother admonished.
Sophia and Danielle stared at her.
“I-I’m sorry.” She set a couple of the cups upright. “I’ll take that, Mia.”
Mia stopped a couple paces from her. “The phone was on the floor in the living room. It rang, so I answered it.”
The phone must have fallen out of her purse when she’d tossed it onto the carpet.
“It’s okay. Thank you.” She snatched the phone from Mia’s grasp. Her sister’s brows furrowed in curiosity.
“It’s okay,” Cassie assured her. Cassie discreetly covered the microphone with a finger. “James is a client.”
“Clients call you late in the evening on your cell phone?” her mother demanded. She glanced to Sophia. “Does that make sense? No, Cassandra, what are you hiding?”
“Clients call day and night, and yes, they call my cell phone. I have to take this.” She started for the kitchen door.
“Where are you going?” her mother called.
“Outside. It’s loud in here.” Cassie needed to escape her mother’s radar range.
