Spring Into Love

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Spring Into Love Page 157

by Chantel Rhondeau

That was one of the things Casey loved about kids. You could always count on them to bring things down to earth. “I’m so glad you’re letting Josh take dance classes again.”

  “Guess I can be stubborn sometimes. I played so many sports at his age and envisioned him doing the same.”

  “Dance will help him with sports. Make him a better athlete.”

  He smirked. “Hmm, maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Plenty of football players take ballet.”

  “They take all kinds of things.”

  “Beats steroids,” Casey said.

  “It’s a damn sight healthier, I’ll say that much. Then again you can’t exactly call ballet a performance enhancer.”

  “Are you serious? Ballet improves everything: stretch, coordination, balance, speed. Maybe you should try it. It’d help you with your ping-pong game.”

  Drew moaned. “Back to that again, are we?”

  “Well, you were a little stiff on your pivoting.”

  “I’ll show you some pivoting. Wait till we get out on the basketball court. Or are you going to back out of that one?”

  Casey had almost forgotten the challenge she’d accepted during their little tiff at Trevor’s party. “Nope. I’ll enjoy beating you there, too.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “You might have more strength, but—”

  “Might?”

  “Might. Per pound. But I’ve got stretch, fast reflexes and I’m a great jumper.”

  He shook his head. “You think you’re so hot.”

  “Me? You’re the one who walks around like he’s God’s gift to women.” She couldn’t believe she said that, but her mouth seemed to be on an unstoppable roll.

  “Hey, I can’t help it if the ladies chase me down.”

  “Puhleez. I’m gonna throw up.” She looked away, hand to her stomach.

  His tone grew challenging. “You should see some of the women I’ve had. Riley was a mere B-lister in my book.”

  “Well, I’ve had my share of A-list action, too, pal.” Once. And he’d incinerated her heart. But Casey wasn’t about to let Drew see her as the loser she really was.

  “You mean like Trevor? Now there’s a fine example.”

  Trevor. That relationship had been her attempt to be someone she wasn’t, to settle for a simple, steady man. Did such a creature exist? She doubted it. And the alternative sitting next to her seemed a pretty bad choice right now. “As if you’re any better.”

  “You know how many women wanted your slot for this afternoon? You’re lucky to be here with me in this car.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Pull over and I’ll gladly get out.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’ve got a couple more vineyards to go to, and you agreed to be the babe on my arm today.”

  Parker was right. Drew’s another Jeff. She crossed her arms and looked out the window, murmuring, “An ego the size of a football field.”

  “I was damn good at football. First string running back at USC.”

  “Yeah, I know. You already told me.”

  After a couple minutes of heavy silence, Casey turned to Drew. “You don’t have to do this studio thing with me.”

  He frowned. “I’m not letting you back out of this.”

  “Hello. I’m the one who needs the studio, and I’m trying to give you a chance to back out.”

  “Spare me.”

  “I am trying to spare you. From getting into something we’ll both regret.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. That’s the trouble with you artsy types. Too emotional to make good business decisions.”

  Casey sighed. She couldn’t argue with him on that one.

  ***

  Casey read the sign as Drew parked in a gray pebble lot next to a huge gable-roofed farmhouse with a wide porch overlooking acres of lush green vines. “The TR Winery and Vineyard. Is this…”

  “Taz Ravage’s place.” Drew got out of the car. He came around and opened her door, but Casey hesitated.

  “I’m not sure I—”

  “Ah, come on. So we’ve both got some issues with our athletic prowess. You’re not gonna turn all sour on me, are you?”

  She wondered if he’d really let go of their argument this fast, or if she was merely witnessing his skill at smooth-talking and pacifying business clients. “Sure you wouldn’t rather go somewhere else?”

  “Why? We both liked his wine. That’s what got me thinking about trying a vineyard myself.” He held out a hand to her.

  Casey let him help her out of the car, but said, “I’m not really in the mood to be around rock stars right now.”

  Drew teased her with a playful wink. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep yourself from tearing the clothes off Mr. Ravage if he shows up in the flesh?”

  She gave a nervous laugh and tried to calm herself with some adult reasoning.

  It had been several years since she’d danced the lead in Taz’s music video. She doubted he would even remember her. And what was the big deal anyway? So Taz came on to her rather imposingly and she’d fought him off. End of story.

  Besides, even if she hadn’t turned him down, it was none of Drew’s business any more than his previous sexploits were hers. And she had no doubt Drew Byrne had blazed quite a trail throughout the bedrooms of the Hamptons, Manhattan and beyond.

  But as Casey stepped onto the polished wood floor of the tasting room, an uneasy feeling crept into her gut. She just hoped it wasn’t some intuitive message from her inner Madame Lumina.

  The airy room sported a few tables near the perimeter, but was mostly open space with a long mahogany bar. She couldn’t help thinking it would make a great dance studio. Lots of people milled about. Wine tasting at the North Fork vineyards had become popular recreation for New York City dwellers as well as locals on summer Sundays.

  She and Drew stood at the bar waiting their turn when a buzz went through the room. “It’s Ravage,” Drew said.

  Taz. A pale blonde with blue highlighted hair in dreads all the way to his shoulders. Arms so covered in ink you could barely find a square inch of skin. His Nordic profile and prominent jaw combined with his tall rangy frame made him look like a wild Viking in designer jeans.

  Casey watched as he swaggered across the floor, signing autographs, posing for photos, kissing women and basking in the ubiquitous adulation.

  He walked in their direction. Casey felt him looking at her. She made a feeble attempt to hide behind Drew, but she heard Taz say, “Don’t I know you?”

  She mumbled an incoherent, “Could be.”

  Taz snapped his fingers and pointed at her from a marksman’s crouch. “The lead dancer in my “Brake’em And Leave’em” video. Casey. Right?”

  “Got me.”

  Taz glided in. Casey’s eyes darted side-to-side as if there might be somewhere to run. Before she knew it Taz had his arms wrapped around her. He stared into her eyes and said breathlessly. “Ohhh, the times we had. The times we had.”

  The times we had? Casey couldn’t fathom where that came from. They’d hardly spent any time at all together during the shoot. Most of the takes were of her and the other dancers moving through a smoke-filled warehouse while he strutted about under a spotlight. It wasn’t until his little party afterward that he introduced himself by trying to maul her.

  The only good thing about this was the astonished—and slightly jealous—look on Drew’s face. Mr. Truckster was obviously trying to force an amiable smile, but his acting skills came up short. His eyes clearly registered a desire to wring Taz’s neck.

  “Check this out!” Taz announced to the onlookers. He clasped Casey by the waist and urged her across the floor in a weird tango that she quickly picked up on to avoid tripping over her feet. The crowd laughed and applauded. To make things even more cringing Taz ended their little routine by spinning Casey around and slinging her in a backbend over his knee just in time for a little a serenade:

  “Drive me wild, girl. Make me crazy, girl. Let’s do it. One more time.”
>
  Another round of clapping and cheers. Taz lifted her to standing and gave her a kiss that was far too long and too wet. Knowing her only chance of escape was to continue the performance, Casey broke free and started singing one of Taz’s hits as she backed her way to the door with poses and lunges and spins. When she reached the glass doors, she offered a beaming smile and farewell wave to Mr. Ravage and the crowd, eliciting more applause.

  The moment she was out the door, Casey made a beeline for Drew’s Porsche, hoping he’d catch on and meet her there.

  Which he did. But he arrived in a completely foul mood. He didn’t say a word. Just tossed her an accusing look, unlocked the car doors, and drove toward North Cove. Men. By the time he pulled into her driveway Casey decided she’d just as soon be an old maid living alone with her cats and books and music. So what if her students would have to be the children she never had?

  Except she wasn’t so sure she’d have a studio, considering the anger steaming off the dickhead sitting next to her. But if Drew backed out of their business deal because of this, she’d at least have the satisfaction of saying “I told you so.”

  The car stopped. Casey was about to thank him for the day. (Good manners had been drummed into her head since childhood, and old habits die hard.)

  But when she turned to him, Drew said, “Guess you weren’t kidding about having a lot of A-list lovers in your past.”

  “It’s none of your business, but for the record, I’ve never slept with Taz.”

  “Sure. Like he just made up all that shit. Gimme a break. Guys don’t remember a girl’s name years later unless something went down.”

  “I don’t have to justify to you who I am or what I do,” she growled through clenched teeth, refusing to let him put her on the defensive.

  “Then you admit it.” He shook his head. “Got some nerve always bringing up my reputation when a dancer like you has probably seen all kinds of action.”

  “How dare you!” Casey reached over and tried to slap him, but Drew caught her by the wrist.

  “Gotta be faster than that,” he said.

  “Let go.” She yanked her hand back.

  “I’m not even sure that guy I saw you with yesterday was really your brother.”

  Saw me with? The meaning behind his words struck her.

  “You were spying on me. You didn’t really remember my brother. That was just a trick to serve your ego. I’ll bet you’ve never even bothered to look at your gardener because he’s not a real person to you. And I suppose I’m just the same; a working class girl you want to nail a few times and dump when you’re tired of her. Well, screw you, Byrne. Our deal is off. I don’t need your help, and I sure as hell don’t want to see your smug face ever again.”

  She lurched from the car, slammed the door and raced into her apartment.

  Chapter 14

  Drew gunned his engine and sped down the road. Why he ever thought he wanted to get close to that incomprehensible bitch was beyond him. From the first day he saw her he could tell she was one of those impossible, difficult women.

  And since the first day I saw her I couldn’t get her out of my frickkin head.

  But she wasn’t what she pretended to be, and he hated women who played tricks.

  Except she just called me on one of mine. One that seemed to make her even angrier than the Taz thing. Man, was she furious. She looked like she was about to cry when she went into that rant about her brother.

  Wait a sec. That meant the Jon Hamm look-alike he saw her with yesterday was her brother. No wonder she was pissed. So maybe she was telling the truth about Taz.

  But did it matter? Did he really expect her to be a virgin at twenty-eight? Of course not. And as to Ravage, most chicks would give their right arm to be picked out of the crowd by a famous rock star like him.

  Was this all about jealousy?

  He’d never been the possessive type. Hell, Drew got tired of women so fast he usually kept an eye out for men he could push them toward to get rid of them.

  But once again, seeing Casey with another man lit a jealous rage inside him he couldn’t fathom. And when Ravage actually kissed her, Drew had to hold himself back from beating the crap out of that narcissistic rocker. Drew not only ached to have her sweet lips on his own, her naked body in his arms, to be inside her and hear her call his name, something in him also needed her to belong to him and no one else.

  And Drew had a sneaking suspicion why.

  It wasn’t just about sex. Every time he saw Casey some part of his heart seemed to open up. It was almost like she held some kind of promise for him that this ugly old cutthroat world could be sweet and warm and true.

  And he needed that. He needed Casey.

  ***

  Casey was still curled up crying in a pitiful ball on her bed when the back door buzzer rang. Had to be Natalie or Parker. No one else ever showed up unexpected at her private entrance. She quickly wiped her eyes, but when she checked in the mirror they looked pretty red. Just what she needed. She was in no mood to reveal the collapse of the plan Drew proposed—and prove Parker right.

  She clumped down the back stairwell and, being a woman living alone, she checked the door’s eyehole that her brother had installed for her.

  WTF?

  It was Drew. Holding a pizza box. He looked at the eyehole and said, “You wanted pizza, right?”

  “Go away.”

  “Wait, Casey, please. I’m sorry. I acted like an asshole. I was…jealous.”

  Casey knew she should just turn around and run upstairs, but she stood there twisting her fingers, struggling inside. Debating whether her desperate urge to open the door was because of her fear of losing what was likely her only chance to preserve her dance academy—or her fear of losing a chance to find the kind of passionate love she’d craved for so long.

  Love? Dream on.

  But as she peered out at him once more and saw that funny, sexy slouch of his, Casey found herself turning the doorknob. He stepped in and started right up the stairs with the pizza, casting a winsome smile at her over his shoulder. Was this one of his sales tactics? Don’t give the opposition any leeway to balk? And look hot as hell while you’re imposing your will on them?

  She followed him up, amazed that her anger could evaporate so quickly after those awful things he’d said about her. Except he’d just apologized and told her he was jealous. And she supposed if the Taz situation had been reversed she might’ve reacted the same way.

  Casey stepped through her living room and into the kitchen where Drew was already gathering plates. The garlic and cheese smell of the pizza had her stomach growling.

  “Where are your napkins?” he asked, as if they hadn’t been shouting at each other less than an hour ago.

  Confused and unsure of where this was leading, Casey opened a cabinet and set a stack of paper napkins on the table. “I don’t have any beer or soda. Spring water okay?”

  He nodded, but his motion stilled. He studied her face. Casey felt her cheeks flame under the force of his dazzling blue eyes. In a near whisper, he said, “Will you forgive me for those stupid things I said?”

  She just nodded.

  Drew crossed the short distance between them and pulled Casey to him, his hands gripping her bare arms. He kissed her with a fierce longing that sent heat blazing through her. His hand stroked over her shoulder as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting of wine. Matching the fury of his searing kiss, she reached her arms around his solid body, tugging him closer.

  Something in her knew this was right, knew this was what she wanted. Ever since she’d turned him away that night after Trevor’s party, Casey had been wrestling with her regret, unable to forget the euphoric pleasure of his hands touching her.

  One arm around her waist, his palm cupped her breast. Casey let out a moan and slid her hand down the front of his hard torso to stroke his even harder package. That ignited a frenzy. Hands clutching and grasping, they stumbled through the living room toward Casey’s be
droom, tearing at each other’s clothing. His shirt landed on the coffee table, her blouse on the loveseat. Two pairs of jeans at her bedroom door.

  Panting and reeling, Casey could hardly believe the intensity of her excitement. She’d had guys she wanted before, but she’d never burned like this with such a desperate, urgent desire. She heard herself whimper as Drew’s tongue traced from her throat to her breasts. His arms around her, he unhooked her bra and teased the rose-colored tips, making her gasp.

  Casey’s hands explored his sculpted chest, smoothed over his tight buns. He knelt before her, sliding her lace panties down, his hands and tongue caressing her thighs. She threaded her fingers in his hair, her breath quickening when Drew buried his face in her female mound. And he didn’t come up for air until he sent her into a mind-blowing climax.

  Then Drew stood. His gazed lingering on Casey, he murmured, “You are exquisite.”

  No, not me. I’m the one who’s only sort of pretty. Her sister Jenna was exquisite. And women like Riley…

  But he drove all thoughts out of her mind when he stepped close, pressing his cheek against her forehead, his warm lips on her temple.

  He lifted Casey, cradling her against his chest, and carried her to the bed. She watched him remove his briefs, amazed at what a magnificent creature he was. The late July sun was just going down and a soft light from the window played across his ripped and powerful frame, highlighting the classic angles of his face.

  Yes, like a Greek god, she thought, remembering that first time she saw Drew Byrne striding through her ballet class.

  ***

  All the air seemed to get sucked out of Drew’s lungs at the glorious sight of Casey reclining on the bed, her chestnut hair spread on the pillow.

  He paused, thinking, I don’t want to mess this up.

  That thought startled him. Drew Byrne had never lacked for confidence with any female, even when he was a green kid learning the ropes. But Casey was different. Something about her made him want to be real, made him want to shed all the acts he’d cultivated over the years and just be Drew.

 

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