Spring Into Love

by Chantel Rhondeau

  But just as she began to relax, Parker said, “You going to tell me who it is?”

  She stood up, hands defiantly on her hips. “Drew Byrne.”

  Parker studied her for several moments. And with the simplest tilt of his head Casey could tell her brother had detected her more-than-friendly feelings for Drew.

  “Want my opinion?” he said.

  “I think I already know what it’s going to be. You don’t like him.”

  “I just don’t want you to have déjà vu all over again.”

  “This is different.”

  “Then why are you blushing?”

  “Okay, so I kind of like the guy.” Casey turned away, crouched, and resumed her weeding.

  Parker squatted on his haunches next to her. “Sorry, Casey, but Byrne reminds me too much of Jeff Renstadt. Flashy, arrogant, with movie star looks and money to burn. Have you forgotten how devastated you were when Jeff dumped you? It took you nearly two years to get over him.”

  “That was seven years ago. I’d just turned twenty-one and was a real jerk.”

  She’d gotten her first cocktail waitressing job for the summer season at an upscale restaurant bar in East Hampton. There she met Jeff, a confident, dark-haired pretty boy born and bred in the land of the debutante ball. Definitely GQ photo spread material. After a few rounds of drinks he reached out and took Casey’s hand with complete and utter confidence and slipped into it a crisp Ben Franklin. Both his hundred-dollar tip and his hand touching hers left her reeling.

  Parker tugged at the weeds. “You weren’t a jerk. We grew up in rough circumstances. Any working class girl would be swept away by a guy who takes her into a world of luxurious estates, Lamborghinis, private jets, and ninety-foot yachts.”

  “I was also bowled over by the fact that this outrageously handsome hunk actually wanted plain old Casey Richardson. How stupid.”

  “It’s not about being stupid, Casey. It’s about being young and having the kind of heart that loves easily. There are plenty of shallow, selfish girls who wouldn’t have gotten so caught up. But you open your heart to people. Even cold-blooded ones. Like Jeff, who thought he could just pass this blue collar girl around to his buddies when he was done with you.”

  “Parker, don’t.” An old pang of hurt seared through Casey. She sat cross-legged in the dirt.

  He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry to remind you of it. And I don’t mean to sound prejudiced. I’ve met some wealthy folks who are true saints, but there are certain kinds of rich guys who shouldn’t be trusted. The kind who think people below their class are just there to serve them. I’ve been handling Byrne’s lawns and gardens for five years, and I doubt he’d even know me if we met on the street.”

  Casey remembered how Drew hadn’t even recognized Parker’s name when she’d mentioned it. She nodded, resolved. “I know what you’re saying. Don’t worry. I intend to keep this a business arrangement.”

  “You already said you liked him.”

  “I wouldn’t want to commit to this kind of project with someone I didn’t like.”

  “Has he asked you out? Taken you to dinner in his chauffeured car?”

  “Well, we did go to a place in Manhattan the other night. By helicopter.” When she saw her brother’s face she added, “I’m not going to sleep with Drew Byrne and I’m certainly not going to fall in love with him. I just want my studio. And he can afford to help me a lot better than you can.”

  Parker brushed dirt from his hands and stood. “If he quits on the business deal when he finds that out, I’ll be here for you.” He reached out a hand and pulled her up. “Come on. I’ve got some iced tea in the fridge. And didn’t you say you were worried one of your studio mirrors was coming off the wall? How about we go fix it? Don’t want it falling on some little dancer.”

  “That would be great, bro. Then you can stay for dinner and polish off what’s left of last night’s sad attempt at chicken marsala.”

  ***

  Drew spent most of Saturday catching up at his home office. And thinking about Casey. Cursing himself for being unable to pry his mind away from the memory of holding Casey as she cried in his arms. Her skin was ivory smooth, her eyes dewy, her mouth inviting. He liked that she was hesitant to have him foot the bill for her new studio. He was so used to just the opposite: women with tricks up their sleeves trying to sway him into paying for all kinds of things for them. Speaking of which, both Chloe and Georgia had texted him saying they wanted to get together. But Drew wasn’t about to make plans that would prevent him from seeing Casey tonight.

  How dumb not to ask for a phone number other than the one he had for the North Cove Dance Academy. And she wasn’t listed anywhere. Considering how seriously Casey took interruptions to her classes, not to mention the fact that Josh—and Heather—would be at the studio today, Drew checked the academy schedule and waited until classes were good and over before calling.

  Obviously he waited too long. After getting her voice mail three times he finally left his number and said, “Need to talk to you about something. Give me a call when you’re free. About the realtor, I mean. Uh, it’s Drew. Drew Byrne.”

  What is wrong with me? I sound like an adolescent who’s never called a girl before. But then he’d never had a female get to him the way Casey had.

  By six o’clock he couldn’t stand it any more. She hadn’t called him back. That kind of thing didn’t happen to Drew Byrne. Except it just did. And he wanted to know why.

  He was about to tell his driver to take him to North Cove, but changed his mind. Not about going there. But about showing up in a limo. Most women liked that sort of thing, but he could tell it made Casey uncomfortable. He freshened up, hopped in his Porsche and made it to the ferry and across to the North Fork in record time.

  Rehearsing his lines, Drew slowed as he neared the dance studio and parked along the curb. He took a quick peek up the driveway to the back lot and got a glimpse of the Honda Civic that had been parked there the night of Trevor’s party. Drew had been too preoccupied with kissing Casey that night to notice if there was a back door buzzer. He rang the front.

  A curtain moved on the second floor. Casey’s face appeared at the window. He was about to wave, but her eyes went wide and the curtain dropped.

  Drew waited. The door opened, and Casey stood there looking sexy as hell in denim shorts, her hair falling out of a topknot. But the warm smile he expected wasn’t there. Instead she seemed nervous. Which ticked him off slightly. And worried him. Wasn’t he still the hero saving her studio? Had she changed her mind?

  “Um, hi, Drew.”

  He waited for her to invite him in, but she said nothing more. So he said, “Didn’t you get my message?” Geez. He swore to himself he wouldn’t mention it. And now he not only mentioned it, but also sounded like a whining wuss.

  “Yes, I got it. But you didn’t say to call you back and I—”

  “Yes, I did. This morning my realtor—”

  “You called today? I’m sorry. I’ve been out and haven’t checked my studio phone since I got back. I should give you my mobile number.”

  Drew let out a breath. The tightness in his chest easing when she offered her personal number. “Yeah, it would make it easier.” But she didn’t invite him in. In fact, he noticed she was holding the door almost shut in a way where she seemed afraid he might barge in. Was she afraid of him?

  No. She’s got company. He could tell by the way she kept glancing behind herself in the direction of the stairs. Drew could tell what it meant because he’d often been in the same position. Fast work, considering she’d only broken up with Trevor three days ago.

  “Hold on,” he said as she began speaking her number. He pulled out his cell and punched it in. “Mine is on the message you didn’t listen to.”

  “Right. Well, I, um…”

  Drew’s jaw tightened. She was giving him the brush. Was he supposed to just walk away with his tail between his legs? Pretend he didn’t know why she didn’
t invite him in? Why should he let her off that easy? “Want to go out for a bite?”

  Would she lie to him? Drew hated women who lied. Sure he might play a few games now and then, but only with women who meant nothing to him. Women who were already playing games themselves. He could’ve sworn Casey wasn’t one of them.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I have company. But I’m looking forward to searching for a studio with you. And I really had a great time Thursday night. Thank you.” Her full pink lips formed a smile so sweet they could make him forgive her anything.

  They said goodnight to each other, and Drew left, but he did not start for home just yet. He went to his car and sat there. Stewing.

  And wondering if Casey had been right to be wary of the two of them getting into a business deal. With the resentment he felt for her right now he could see how things might get messy. But he knew she wanted his body as much as he wanted hers. He’d seen it in her blushes and sensed it in the heavy-duty nonverbal exchanges between them. And maybe there wasn’t any more to it than that. Maybe if they just had sex a couple times this obsession he’d developed for her would go away.

  Then he heard Casey’s laugh. A wonderful, full, warm-you-all-the-way-to-your-toes laugh. He peered out the car window. There she was walking up the street alongside a man. A tall, rugged hunk with a face like a friggen movie star.

  Drew gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Seized by wild jealousy, he wanted to leap out of the car and pummel the guy. He didn’t understand it. There were loads of babes out there, super gorgeous ones. He didn’t need Casey Richardson. But something seethed inside him insisting that Casey was his and his alone.

  As the two disappeared around the corner, Drew suppressed his urge to follow them. He forced himself to start his car. And he headed home.

  Struggling to get a grip on his mixed-up mind.

  Chapter 13

  Sunday morning Casey woke up feeling horrible about the way she’d treated Drew when he showed up at her door. But she’d had to hurry and send him away before Parker got curious. If Parker had found out her visitor was Drew, he would’ve gone into his challenging, tough guy, protective big brother mode.

  Still, in her mind she couldn’t stop seeing that disappointed look in Drew’s wonderful eyes. She realized yesterday that Josh had the same eyes. Not quite as blue, but as heavily lashed. And of course the boy hadn’t yet developed his father’s penetrating stare that would make him murder on women when he grew up.

  Last night after Parker left, Casey listened to Drew’s message on the studio phone. And played it over several times just to hear his voice. But she chickened out of calling him, afraid he might pay her back by blowing her off before she got a chance to apologize. Besides, she doubted he’d be sitting at home like she was on a Saturday night.

  This morning Buster, Miss Daisy, and Sugar Boy prowled around her feet, demanding seconds as Casey made scrambled eggs and coffee. By her third cup she finally decided a text would be a good way to go. She grabbed her cell.

  Sorry about last night. My brother came by to talk.

  Was kind of upset. Were in the middle of things

  when you arrived. Got your message. Can’t wait! ☺

  Not completely accurate, but not entirely false. It was true Parker was kind of upset. The reason just happened to be her connecting with Drew.

  About five minutes after Casey sent the text, her ringtone sang out “Take Five” by Dave Brubeck. A funny thrill went through her when the caller ID told her it was Drew.

  Oboy. You really are in trouble, girl. She sat at the kitchen table and took a courage-fortifying swig of coffee. “Hello,” she said, trying not to sound too eager.

  “Casey. Got your text. No need to apologize. I had the feeling something was going down. You should’ve just told me and I would have made myself scarce rather than hanging you up.”

  “Right.” Except she hadn’t dreamt up the “he was upset” excuse until now. Yesterday she’d been too busy worrying that Drew would want to meet her brother if she mentioned him. Or that Parker would come down the stairs and see Drew.

  “Is this the one who does gardening at my place?”

  “Yes. My only brother.”

  Drew hesitated, and Casey sensed him weighing his next words. So it surprised her when he said, “I remember him now. Good-looking dude. Kind of a Jon Hamm type.”

  “That’s Parker.”

  “Good thing I don’t have a sister.”

  Funny you should say that. She thought of Parker’s identical reaction to Drew being around his sister. But she also suddenly felt selfish, realizing she and her brother spent yesterday talking about Casey’s dilemmas and never even mentioned anything he might be going through. Parker was so different from Drew. So quiet and reserved. She prayed there was somebody out there who was right for him. “Do you have brothers?”

  “Just me. Listen, Casey, my realtor is busy today, but he said he’d give me keys to a few properties we can check out if you’re up for it.”

  “Sure am.”

  “I also have a favor to ask.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you don’t trust me?”

  Casey laughed. “Maybe because I’m not totally sure I do.”

  “Can’t ask for a more straightforward answer than that. So, here it is. Several of the vineyards up in your neck of the woods are having wine tasting today. I’d like to make the rounds to a few of them, since I’m thinking of buying a vineyard. That okay with you?”

  Buying a vineyard? This guy does have bucks. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Great, I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  Casey showered and fussed with her unruly hair, wanting to leave it loose today. It was sexier that way. What am I thinking? This is a business excursion.

  She began trying on one outfit after the next, while explaining her position to Sugar Boy, who lay on the bed watching her.

  “I know I’m going into dangerous territory, Sugar Boy, but I can’t help it. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted any man as much as I want this one. I know, I know. You’re asking what will happen to my dance studio if he tears my heart to pieces? Well, I’ll just have to keep my heart out of it. I’ll just let myself have a little taste of this deliciously sexy man, have a little bit of naughty fun, and be done with him. I’m sure he’d prefer it that way, too.”

  She opted for tight-fitting jeans, a sleeveless, tiered ruffle blouse (navy print in case she spilled her wine), and cork wedges.

  When she saw Drew’s Porsche pull into her driveway, Casey raced down the stairs. Drew got out of the car and gave her a megawatt smile that made her feel more beautiful than she knew she could ever be. He opened the car door without a word. Had she rendered him speechless? She sure hoped so. He looked every bit as handsome as he’d been in her dreams last night. He wore jeans paired with a silky print shirt, half-open and fluttering as he walked. Giving her a sigh-worthy view of his muscled chest.

  She slid into the cushioned leather seat, recognizing the sandalwood scent she’d come to associate with Drew. And realized she’d forgotten to put any perfume on herself. Very feminine, Casey.

  Neither of them said much as they drove along. Maybe Drew felt as awkward as she did. To keep herself from obsessing on his sexy hands on the steering wheel and the powerful energy that radiated off him, she peered out the window as they passed acres of green corn, arugula, strawberries, tomatoes and bright yellow summer squash. A purple and blue field of cultivated perennials reminded her of a Monet painting.

  “Look. A lavender farm.” She opened the window and inhaled deeply.

  Drew smiled at her. “Hope you got your fix, ‘cause you’re letting out all the AC.”

  They visited three potential studio properties: a barn so rank with the smell of cow manure it would take an army corps of engineers to deodorize the place, a former ice cream shop that was way too narrow, and a big farmhouse that might have been good if it w
eren’t so deep in the boonies she’d lose most of her students.

  “I knew this wouldn’t be an easy job,” Casey said. “It took me the better part of a year to find my current studio.”

  He glanced at her. “But how could you have missed it when it’s so close to the center of North Cove?”

  “The place had still been a hardware store. I caught the ‘going out of business’ buzz from my friend who runs a nearby coffee shop, and I hopped on it.”

  They sped along Route 25 swooping in on their designated targets: the North Fork wineries. Sunny locations with rustic charm offering Drew and Casey the chance to grace their palates with some of the most scrumptious wines they’d ever tasted. Both could safely say that after visiting five vineyards they began to feel the effects.

  “Let’s see. Five vineyards down, only thirty-five more to go,” Drew said with a fake lisp, pretending to be really drunk.

  “That all?” Casey said, realizing she felt quite comfortable with Drew. He didn’t drive like a jerk, he didn’t talk her ear off, and he didn’t crowd her or ignore her opinions when they looked at the real estate. The only problem was this nagging fantasy of his naked body all slick and sweaty and sliding around on top of hers.

  She blinked away the image. “Think anybody’s ever really pulled it off?”

  “One man. Rumor has it he turned into a grape.”

  “Later to be mashed, fermented and bottled.”

  Drew turned the car onto a side road. “Actually, there is one more vineyard I’d like to hit. Then we’ll stop for lunch. What kind of food are you in the mood for?”

  “Pizza.” Her reply came out spontaneously, but the twitch at the corners of his mouth told her Drew had a more fashionable lunch in mind. “Um, do you like pizza?” she asked, feeling grossly unsophisticated.

  “Sure. But apparently not as much as you and my son do.”