Dream Wedding: Dream Bride | Dream Groom (24 page)

“Are you sure?” Chloe asked, sounding skeptical.

“Taking advantage of someone requires knowing that person is alive. While I don’t doubt that Ryan is aware of my existence, as far as he’s concerned, I’m just a helpful household appliance. He has no clue I’m female.”

Chloe looked at her and shook her head. “I can’t buy that. You’re very pretty.”

“Get real. I’m a good person, I’m amusing when I’m in a situation where I’m comfortable, I’m reasonably intelligent and I’m honest and have a way with kids. But I’m not his type. Why do you think Joel isn’t jealous, and please don’t say anything cruel about him. The truth is, a man like Ryan could never be interested in a woman like me.”

“Why on earth not?”

Cassie was so startled by the question it took her a minute to figure out how to answer. “There’s the age difference,” she said at last.

“What is it, five years?”

“Almost nine. He has a successful business, and as you so like to point out, I work in a preschool. What would we talk about?”

“What do you talk about now?”

“Sasha.”

“So you have
something
in common.”

Cassie reached for the bag and fished out the long length of fabric that would serve as Chloe’s tail. “You’re pushing this because you think it might be a good way to get me away from Joel.”

“Is that so terrible?”

It could be if the crush became something more, Cassie thought. She wasn’t looking to get her heart broken. “Maybe,” she said, then stopped when she heard footsteps in the hallway.

Chloe glanced toward the door and groaned. “This is
not
how I planned on meeting your boss.”

“You look cute,” Cassie told her and knew she was telling the truth. Chloe had pulled her dark red curls into a ponytail at the top of her head. Makeup accentuated her big eyes, while pregnancy added a glow to her cheeks. She looked like what she was—a radiantly beautiful woman in the prime of her life.

“Cassie, is there…” Ryan’s voice trailed off as he entered the kitchen and saw her company. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He glanced over the partially completed costume and raised his eyebrows. “So people
do
dress differently in Bradley than in other parts of the country.”

Cassie smiled. “Not exactly. Ryan, this is my sister, Chloe Smith. Chloe, this is Ryan.”

The two shook hands. “You have me at a disadvantage,” Chloe said, motioning to herself. “I don’t like making a first impression in costume.” She told him briefly about the party she and Arizona were to attend, then rested her hand on her stomach. “I figured my choices were limited if I didn’t want to spend the night as ‘pregnant’ Cleopatra and Mark Antony, or ‘pregnant’ Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler.”

“It’s very original. I suppose pregnant Wendy was out of the question.”

Chloe laughed. “I thought about it, but my husband refused to consider anything that involved wearing tights.”

“Smart man,” Ryan said. “I can’t say that I blame him.”

Cassie smoothed the tail to pin it in place, but Chloe stopped her. “I’ll have to do that at the last minute. Aunt Charity can help me. Otherwise, I’ll never fit everything in the car.”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Cassie turned to Ryan. “My sister drives a little BMW Z3 roadster. Cute car, with absolutely no trunk.”

“Very little room for my tummy, either.” When Chloe indicated she needed to step out of the costume, Ryan politely turned his back. “I’m going to have to start trading cars with Arizona so that there’s room between me and my steering wheel.”

Cassie folded the fabric. “Are you sure we did enough? I don’t mind working on this some more.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe told her. “If I have any trouble, I’ll call you to come rescue me.” She waved goodbye to Ryan and left.

Ryan waited in the kitchen while Cassie walked her sister to the door. When she returned, he pointed to the scraps of material on the table and floor. “I didn’t know you could sew.”

“I used to do it more. When I was in high school, I made a lot of my clothes. Not because we couldn’t afford to buy them but because I couldn’t always find things I liked.” She shrugged. “I can handle most of the domestic arts. Cooking, child rearing, sewing. I’m a decent baker and pretty handy in the garden, but I don’t like cleaning. Given the choice, I would rather pay to have someone else do it.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Most women are well versed at several of these same activities. You don’t have to act surprised that I’ve conquered them.”

“It
is
surprising,” he told her as he leaned one hip against the kitchen counter. “At least for me. The women I date are more interested in their careers than what they plan to serve for dinner. I’m not saying either is right,” he added quickly, not wanting her to think he was judging.

“Agreed,” she said. She finished picking up the scraps and carried them to the trash. “Times have changed, but what about when you were growing up? Did your mom bake or sew?”

He shook his head. “She put on patches when we tore out the knees of our jeans, but that was about it. As for baking—” He tried to remember coming home to the smell of brownies or a cake. On birthdays she’d usually bought something day-old from the bakery. “She worked two jobs. There wasn’t a lot of extra time.”

Cassie’s expression softened with compassion. “It must have been really tough for her, having to work so much and still try to raise you and your brother. I’m sure she was really conflicted about the situation.”

Ryan couldn’t answer that. If his mother had had doubts, she’d kept them to herself. “She taught my brother and me to be hard workers, like she was. She always told us that rich was better than poor. That we were to get good educations and work hard. I’ve respected that.”

“You’ve done both,” Cassie told him.

“Agreed. On the down side, she never spent much time with us. Some of it was because of her long hours at work. For the rest of it, I’m not so sure.” He wasn’t about to tell Cassie that he’d always felt his mother had seen her children as getting in the way of her goals. That if she’d been alone, she would have done much better. Still, he couldn’t fault her on her day-to-day care, or for inspiring John and him to get ahead. That had to count for something.

“There wasn’t much fun in our house,” he said at last. “No money and not enough time.”

“You can have fun with Sasha,” Cassie told him. “Little kids need lots of attention and lots of fun.”

Her smile was easy, her posture relaxed. She was completely comfortable with him, and very pretty, he thought, wondering for the thousandth time how he’d managed to not notice her for nearly a week. Now he was having trouble being in the same room without finding something new about her that appealed to him. Sometimes it was her laugh, sometimes a comment she made. Once he’d been caught up in the play of light on her thick, shiny hair.

Telling himself she was completely wrong for him didn’t help. Reminding himself that she was not only his employee—and therefore deserving of his respect—but also involved and committed to another man, only intrigued him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had haunted his thoughts and he found he liked having something other than work on his mind.

Cassie glanced at the clock. “Sasha should be waking up soon,” she said. “I have just enough time to get the cookies in the oven.”

With that she walked over to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. Ryan was about to excuse himself when she bent over and retrieved a bowl sitting on the bottom shelf. He told himself he was worse than a kid in high school, but he couldn’t help looking. Her jeans tightened around her rear end, making him want to go over and pull her close against him. He could imagine how she would feel next to him, under him, naked and….

“Ryan?” Cassie asked as she straightened and caught him staring. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he said, sounding only a little strangled. “I, um, I think I’ll go back to my office.” He turned away quickly, hoping she hadn’t noticed the rather obvious manifestation of his wayward thoughts.

He was slime, he told himself. Lower than slime. He was the single-celled creature that slime fed on. Because even though it was wrong, even though he was violating fifteen different kinds of moral conduct, he liked that she turned him on. Being around Cassie reminded Ryan that he was alive.

* * *

“T
HAT
ONE
,” Sasha said as she pointed at the candy. “This one, too.”

Ryan obligingly picked up the two pieces of candy in question and dropped them into the small, clear plastic bag decorated with grinning pumpkins. “She’s a tyrant,” he complained good-naturedly.

“You’re the one who told her she could pick what to put into the bags,” Cassie reminded him as she slid ghost-shaped sugar cookies onto the cooling rack. “Don’t come crying to me, now.”

“I know. How many of these bags do we need to do?”

She settled the last of the cookies in place, then put the empty sheet into the sink. After removing the oven mitts from her hands, she crossed to the kitchen table.

It had been a very good few days, Cassie thought happily. Ryan had responded well to her suggestion that he spend more time with his niece. They were getting to know each other and finding pleasure in each other’s company. On a personal level this meant she also spent more time with the man, but she wasn’t about to comment on that. Despite her crush, she knew that Sasha was the important one around here.

She counted the filled plastic bags. “You’ve done eighteen. We need twenty-four.” She bent down and hugged the toddler. “Are you helping?”

Sasha nodded, then pointed at Ryan. “Work!” she commanded.

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Gee, give the woman a little power and she’s ready to take over the world.”

“Must be genetic,” Cassie said casually, then laughed and jumped back when Ryan glanced at her sharply.

“Are you saying I’m a tyrant?” he asked, his gaze narrow in mock anger.

“I’ve heard bits of your phone calls, when I’ve brought you dinner,” she said. “You like ordering people around. I think it’s in the blood.”

“Did you hear that?” he asked Sasha. “She’s called us bossy. I don’t think that’s true. Just because we know what’s best for everyone. Right?”

Sasha blinked a couple of times, then planted her hands on her hips and looked at Cassie. “Right!”

“I’ve been outvoted. Fine. I’ll start making the icing for the cookies.”

As she collected ingredients, she had to hold in a sigh of contentment. Sasha and Ryan were doing great. She was thrilled that he’d offered to stay in the kitchen after dinner and help with the Halloween bags needed for the party at Sasha’s school. She ignored the fact that his actions played into her private fantasy that this was all actually real. It wasn’t, of course. It was play, and as long as she didn’t forget what was going on, she was allowed to enjoy pretending for as long as the situation lasted.

Abruptly, Ryan pushed back his chair and rose. “I’ve got work in my office,” he said without warning and left.

“Unk Ryan?” Sasha slid off the seat onto her feet and started after him. “Unk Ryan? Back! More work.”

Cassie put down the bowl she’d been holding and hurried to the toddler. She caught up with her in the hallway. Sasha stood staring at her uncle’s closed office door.

“He’s busy,” Cassie said quietly. “He’ll help us again tomorrow.” She glanced at her watch. It was nearly bedtime. “Let’s go give you a bath, then I’ll read you two stories.”

For a second Sasha’s lower lip quivered and Cassie was afraid she wasn’t going to allow herself to be distracted. But she finally held out her hand and Cassie led her away.

Two hours later it was Cassie’s turn to pause outside Ryan’s closed door, but unlike his niece, she knocked once, then entered. Ryan stood in front of the window, staring out into the darkness of the night.

There were several lamps on in the room and they reflected in the glass, creating a mirror effect. She could see his face, the pained expression and his closed eyes.

She hesitated, not sure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, his voice tight.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I had to leave. I’ll explain it to Sasha tomorrow.” He opened his eyes and met her gaze in the window. “Is she all right?”

She nodded. “She’s asleep. I told her you were busy.”

“Thanks.”

He looked away as if expecting her to leave.

“What happened?” she repeated.

“I’m fine.”

She drew in a deep breath. Was she crossing the line? Did it matter? After all, she wasn’t about to back down. “I’m not going away.”

He turned toward her. “You never told me you were stubborn.”

“You never asked.”

He nodded, then motioned for her to take the seat opposite the desk. She did. He settled into his chair. “It’s going to sound really stupid,” he warned her.

“I doubt that, but I promise to listen anyway.”

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “It was Sasha. She tilted her head a certain way and in that split second, I saw my brother in her.”

“She’s his daughter. Why does that surprise you?”

“Because I never got it before. I knew in my head that she was John’s child and my niece, but I hadn’t internalized the information. I’d always thought of her as a person in her own right.”

His gaze slid down until it met hers. “I never bothered to come visit them,” he said quietly. “They lived less than two hundred miles away, but I was always too busy. I thought there would be time. So birthdays and anniversaries and Christmases went by, all without me. And now it’s too late.”

Cassie’s heart ached for him. He’d finally realized his brother was really and truly gone. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Thanks.” He paused. “I wish I’d done things differently.”

The light from the floor lamps added depth and shadows to his strong face. His eyes were haunted by the pain of actions that would never be.

“You still have Sasha,” she said, knowing it was a small comfort, although it was the only one she had to offer.

“I know. I still don’t think I’m the right choice, but I’m glad they didn’t leave her to anyone else. She’s all that’s left of my brother.”