by JoAnn Durgin
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Cassie. I didn’t mean to sound flippant earlier, and I hope you know I never intended to put you in the situation of having to explain yourself to your friends.”
“I know. You were wonderful last night, listening to me. I’d never felt so. . .safe and protected.” She released a long sigh of frustration and shook her head.
“Careful there. Better keep your eyes on the road.”
She shot him a sharp glance. “Have you, um, been in a situation like that before?”
He hadn’t expected that question, and true to her nature, she’d couched it in the politest of terms. Still, was a moving vehicle the best place for this conversation? “I haven’t been the best example of morality since Brad died, if that’s what you’re asking. Not that it’s an excuse, but I lost my way for a while after 9/11 and drowned my guilt and anger in living a worldly lifestyle. I let my family down, and I betrayed myself in a lot of ways. I freely admit I’ve done things I regret, but that all stopped after Amy and Landon’s wedding. I rededicated my life to Christ, and I’ve tried my best to live like a Christian.”
“Is this a confession? If that’s the case, you don’t need to feel compelled to tell me.” She waved her hand as if dismissing the matter. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Then why’d you ask? I think it does matter.”
“I’m sure a man like you hasn’t been holed up in your Manhattan townhouse like a. . .a monk.”
“Not sure I like your implication.” He fought the rising sense of defensiveness mixed with regret. Who’d she been talking to, anyway? Still, if that wasn’t jealousy in her tone, he’d never heard it before. “I’ve been weak in the past, Cassie, so I know how easy it is to succumb to temptation. I don’t claim to be a saint. Matter of fact, I’m a first class sinner. In spite of my upbringing in the church, in spite of being a Christian since I was six, I’ve fallen.” He winced at his own words. They sliced through him, and he wished like anything he could change his past.
“I’m careful not to purposely put myself in a situation to be tempted now. But yes, I’ve still dated.” A lot, but saying that now wouldn’t be in his best interest. “A string of casual relationships isn’t what I want. I tried it, but all that does is leave me empty inside. Most of all, dating someone who doesn’t share my faith is wrong. God expects my best, and I’ve failed Him. He wants more for me, and I should expect more of myself.”
Maybe it was better that Cassie find out about his past now. If she couldn’t forgive him for his indiscretions, then that would effectively end any possibility of a relationship between them. A relationship that seemed destined to flounder eventually when they were more than a thousand miles apart. That thought pierced him like an arrow.
“If you’re asking me to return the favor, I have nothing to say.”
“That’s fine. I don’t expect you to tell me anything. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for. . .” How to finish that sentence?
“Mitch, there’s nothing to forgive because it’s not my place to give it. That’s between you and the Lord.”
“I still wanted you to know.”
Her shoulders visibly drooped. “I know it’s more difficult for a man. You’re a high-powered executive. I imagine working on Wall Street with all those professional women must be extremely. . .attractive.”
“No, Cassie.” He turned in the seat to face her. “You know what’s attractive?”
She pulled up to a stoplight and turned her head to look at him. Much better, especially with what he wanted to say. “What’s incredible is the sweetness I see in your face, the purity of your spirit, the undiluted innocence in your eyes. You have what most women will never have. You have Christ in your life. He’s part of you, as sure as you’re living and breathing.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I’d lost sight of how incredibly beautiful that can be.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. In one swift movement, he brushed it from her face with his thumb. When a second tear fell, he did the same. Mitch waited for her to speak, unsure whether Cassie wept because of sadness or overwhelming emotion. The only sound was the steady rain hitting the roof of the car.
“What I meant about not returning the favor was because there’s nothing to tell.” She’d said it so quietly that he almost didn’t hear the words. But he did. He wanted to reach for her hand, but felt it best to restrain himself since she was behind the wheel. The stoplight turned green and she pulled through the intersection.
“Cassie, pull over to the curb.”
“We’re almost at the house and it’s getting later by the minute.”
“This is something we need to do. Please.”
She breathed out a deep sigh. “Hold on.” A minute later, she’d pulled beside the curb on a residential street. Turning off the engine, she stared at the rain streaming down the front window. “What did you want to say?”
Twisting his body in the bucket seat, feeling cramped in the confines of the car, he faced her. “It’d be nice if you’d look at me.”
“The truth is, I’m embarrassed.” Her gaze finally met his. “I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”
“I want to see you again after I go back to New York.”
Her expression was guarded, making it impossible to try and read her emotions. Surely he hadn’t misread the way she’d responded to him. Not that he expected her to fall in his arms and pledge undying love, but some sign of affection might be nice right about now.
“Cassie, I need you in my life.”
He could see her swallow and she twisted her hands in her lap. “How can you say that? What can I possibly offer you that you can’t find in every other woman in New York? You’re accomplished, sophisticated, highly educated. . .everything I’m not.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Mitch grabbed her hands, not allowing her to withdraw. “Don’t make this out to be some rich boy, poor girl scenario.”
She wrenched her hands away from his, her expression anguished. “I’ve had boyfriends, but I’ve never—”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“Yes, I do. Be quiet. You had your turn and now it’s my turn.” Her eyes flashed.
He fell silent and braced himself to hear a story of the boy back home, the childhood or high school sweetheart who’d broken her heart and sent her running away to the big city. An image of Stone Bicklebing popped unbidden into his mind, making him want to groan. Anyone but that guy.
“I’ve kissed guys before, but you’re the first guy I’ve ever wanted to kiss. And not stop, if you must know.” She frowned and slumped back in her seat. “Don’t let it swell your head. At least you didn’t run screaming. I wasn’t even sure I was doing it right.”
Sweet Cassie. He reached for her and cradled her face between his hands, feeling silly as he leaned across the console. “You’re a rare woman, Cassie. A treasure. I’m honored.” Humbled beyond reason, Mitch kept the kiss light and sweet. When Cassie bit her lower lip, it yanked hard on his heartstrings. This woman was getting to him, settling in his heart. I’m going to miss her like crazy. That truth hit him like a punch to the stomach.
“We work together on every level,” he said, releasing her. “On the way to Houston, Amy ran down the long list of my faults and told me why I haven’t been able to commit to a woman. Turns out, she was spot-on. I’ve kept company with women who were completely wrong for me. I knew it, but I’ve never thought about the reasons why. Amy finally forced me to see the truth.”
When Cassie looked at him, her sweetness stole his breath. If he perished today, he’d die content for having known this woman. Extreme yes, but it was the truth. “I’m afraid to risk giving away my heart because I’m afraid of losing it all.” He raked his fingers through his hair, disheveling it even more. “I’m tired of being afraid, Cassie. Look, I pretty much laid myself bare a minute ago. Remember how I said I wish I could step through that door to change my pa
st?” His voice broke. “How I wish I could.”
“Shh,” she whispered. “I understand.” Her blue eyes were moist as they roamed over his face. She smoothed his hair away from his forehead, her fingers lingering. “Beneath this bravado you put out there for the world lies a very tender, compassionate soul. Let’s take this one step at a time.” Settling in her seat again, Cassie started the engine. “And now, it’s time to go home.”
Mitch kept his voice calm and as soothing as he could. “If they even ask where we’ve been, we’ll explain it and then we’ll all have a good laugh.”
“I hope you’re right.” He could tell Cassie didn’t believe it for a second. Problem was, neither did he.
Amy was going to kill him.
Chapter 21
No sooner had Cassie turned the corner of Sam and Lexa’s street than her spirits sank. “We’ve been found out. Ladybug’s here.”
“Who or what is Ladybug?”
“That’s what Winnie calls her car. The yellow VW in the driveway.”
“I thought that was Buttercup.”
“No, that’s her nickname for Chloe, although Chloe’s growing out of it.”
“Thanks for setting me straight. Lots of nicknames with this group. My mind is spinning.”
She appreciated Mitch’s attempt to lighten the mood, but her stomach was turning somersaults. Call it intuition, a hunch or whatever, but. . . At least the rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to make its appearance in-between the low-hanging, dark clouds.
As they approached the house, the front door swung open and Amy stepped out onto the walkway, her expression not especially warm and welcoming. Landon stood right behind her, but he looked a little more amenable.
“Nice to see you two finally decided to come back.”
Cassie squeezed past her and into the house, but no way could Amy miss her bedraggled appearance. Perhaps she should have swung by her house and changed first, but the thought hadn’t even entered her muddled brain in her haste to get here and hopefully avoid a scene. Too late for that, apparently. Raking her gaze over Mitch with his wrinkled dress pants and shirt, Amy shook her head. “Aren’t you a sight?”
“Hey, Amy.” Tossing his suit coat over his shoulder, it flopped in Amy’s face as Mitch passed by her and into the house.
“Something happen to your shoes?” she asked, staring at his feet and then at the shoes he carried.
“I’m afraid they shrunk. Got shrunk. Shrank. You’re the journalist. You tell me the proper word.”
“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is how this happened. Spill it.”
“I tossed them in the dryer. What do you think?” Mitch was already getting testy, and this couldn’t bode well for them. “I’m famished. Think Sam and Lexa would mind if I raid their kitchen for some breakfast?”
“Not until you tell me where you’ve been all night.”
Amy’s voice had risen and Landon put a quick hand on her arm. “Amy, honey. . .”
Leaning close, she lowered her voice. “I don’t know what you do when you’re in New York, but this is unacceptable behavior, especially when you’re a guest in Sam Lewis’s home and keeping company with one of his TeamWork girls.”
Mitch darted a quick glance at Landon. “What exactly is unacceptable behavior? And keeping company? Really, Amy, this isn’t 1950. You’re making broad and spectacularly unfair assumptions because Cassie and I decided to stay out all night? I’m sorry to tell you this, but we’re both adults, and frankly, it’s no one else’s business but ours.”
Cassie could only look back and forth between them. Maybe if she kept quiet, Amy would leave her out of it. She could only pray they could make their explanations and clear up this misunderstanding before everyone else in the house got involved.
“That answer is ambiguous and only feeds into those assumptions, Mitchell. From your rumpled clothes to your cocky attitude, you’re doing nothing to discourage me from thinking the worst.” She crossed her arms. “I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised by your behavior, but”—she moved her gaze to Cassie, making her want to sink into the floor—“I would have expected better from you, Cass.”
Cassie bit her tongue, but she was peeved now. “What exactly are you implying?” She darted a nervous glance at Mitch and could tell he was equally irritated.
Landon grunted. “I believe Winnie calls it macking.”
Mitch threw him a grateful glance. “Oh, there was plenty of macking. Among other things.” He winked at Cassie. “How’s that for an amphibious answer?”
Landon burst out laughing. “Man, it’s a good thing you work with numbers. You wouldn’t make a living if you were a writer.”
Wide-eyed, Cassie could only stare at Mitch and she closed her mouth. What was he saying? Teasing was one thing, but this situation was plummeting from bad to worse incredibly fast. Sure, Amy might have provoked him, but did he have to imply things that hadn’t happened? Not to mention they hadn’t even kissed last night. Before that, yes, there had been some. . .macking earlier in the day. So, it wasn’t a flat-out lie. Surely Mitch wouldn’t purposely tell an untruth.
Amy’s eyes grew wide. Clamping one hand over her mouth, she turned without another word and hurried up the stairs.
“Is she pregnant or is it possible I actually shut her up?” Mitch said to Landon.
“I wouldn’t count on either one,” Landon said. “She didn’t get much sleep last night. You must not have checked your cell phone. She called you a few times.”
“Why?” Mitch moved his hands to his hips. “Contrary to what Amy believes, she’s not my keeper. Eighteen months notwithstanding, I’m still and forever her elder sibling.”
“Cut it out, Mitch,” Landon said. “Time to stop acting like you’re an overgrown adolescent. Own up to whatever you did—or didn’t do—with Cassie and then we can move on. As it is, I’ve got to get packed and head to the airport early this afternoon. After this little episode, you might hope Amy decides not to go with you on the road.”
Cassie had never seen Landon lose his cool, but he looked close to it now. Since Mitch had decked him once, she wondered if Landon might be considering repaying the favor.
“I’ll be happy to do that,” Mitch said, “but first I’d like to know why it’s anyone else’s business but mine and Cassie’s. We’re consenting adults and what we do, when we do it, where we do it, and how we do it is our private business.”
“Is that so?” Landon spread his feet apart and crossed his arms.
The door from the kitchen opened and Winnie stepped into the living room. Glancing at the stairs, Cassie saw Amy coming back down again with Marc and Natalie right behind her. Wonderful. Where were the kids? Why not bring them into the TeamWork lynch mob? And where were Sam and Lexa? Hard to believe they wouldn’t come tearing down the stairs at any moment.
“Okay, everyone. We don’t need an audience.” Cassie raised her hands, wishing she had a white flag to wave. “Don’t I get to speak? Seriously, nothing happened. . .”
Moving forward, Winnie gasped and pointed to her left hand.
Oh, good heavens. The ring! How could she have forgotten to remove it? Mitch’s lips twisted, but it was difficult to tell whether he wanted to laugh or groan.
“How can you say nothing happened when you’re wearing an engagement ring?” Winnie’s blue eyes raised to hers, questioning, unbelieving.
“Relax. It’s fake.” Mitch waved his hand.
Amy gawked at Mitch and moved beside her, staring at the ring. “It looks real enough, but that’s beside the point. Before I blow another gasket, you’d better explain why you’d give Cassie a ring in the first place, much less a fake one. And then act so callously dismissive. I’m not sure which is more disrespectful.” When Amy lifted her hand to inspect the ring, Cassie wriggled free and clasped her hands behind her back.
Mitch balked. “What’s that supposed to mean? Whatever happened to the trust factor? Don’t make snap judgments, Amy. That never
leads to anything good, and you know it.”
Amy’s eyes sparked. “I agree, but how can you say nothing happened when Cassie has a sparkly stone winking at me from her ring finger that wasn’t there yesterday? Considering the fact Cassie’s not dating anyone else, and knowing how you can be a fast worker when you put your mind to it, I put two-and-two together and guess what I came up with? M-i-t-c-h. This one has your stamp all over it. Question is, are you playing some kind of joke or are you serious?”
“Yes, Mitch,” Winnie said. “What are your intentions toward our Cassie?”
Cassie loved the reference to our even as she bristled. She wasn’t too fond of Mitch for being so lackadaisical about the ring on her finger, fake or not. What on earth was happening here?
When Winnie asked to see the ring again, Cassie pulled her hand back out to show her but shot a Help me! glance at Mitch. The man could think quicker on his feet than anyone she knew. He’d gotten her into this mess with his whole crazy scheme, so he could good and well get them out of it. Besides, she rather liked the idea of watching him squirm. Just a little. He’d get Amy back for her teasing and matchmaking. Then they could laugh it off and get on with their lives. No harm done, right? Then why was her stomach rolling like she was in a tiny boat on a choppy ocean? Without a paddle?
“I don’t know why I thought you might actually be happy that Cassie and I hit it off so well,” Mitch said, his voice tight. “You’ve been pushing me into her arms for over a year.”
“Thanks for that,” Cassie mumbled. When she glanced at Landon, the expression on his face was one of bemusement. This entire situation was absurd.
“Come on, Natalie,” Marc said, turning to leave. “This is obviously a private discussion. Someone please give us the go-ahead when the fireworks are over and it’s safe to go in the kitchen.”
“Might as well stay, Marc.” Mitch laughed, but it lacked humor. “Ever since I arrived in Houston, you’ve all been guilty at one time or another of giving Cassie and me winks, sly grins, innuendo and everything else but physically pushing us into each other’s arms. You want to know the biggest irony of all? I’d formulated a plan to get you back, more or less.” His gaze zeroed in on Amy. “To teach you a lesson that you can’t always get your way or—to the other extreme—what you get might not be anything like what you’d intended. Well, surprise! I decided against any plan, but then something happened between us, anyway. So, you tell me, who’s the joke on now?”
