In Too Deep (24 page)
Authors: Sherryl Woods
“Only if you come home with me,” Cara insisted, then caught the look that passed between her father and Louise. “Never mind.”
“I'll take good care of him,” Louise promised.
“I know that.”
“Then why the scowl?” Scottie demanded. “Don't tell me you don't approve, because I know different.”
Cara and Louise both blushed. “It's not that.”
“What then?”
“I guess I was just counting on your being at my place when...” She couldn't finish the sentence.
Scottie completed it for her. “When Rod leaves.”
She nodded miserably.
“Come here and sit beside your old man.”
Cara went and perched on the edge of the bed. He took her hand in his.
“There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about.”
“About Rod?”
“Yes. How would you feel about me taking on a partner?”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. Then she shook her head. “He'll never do it.”
“He's already agreed to... if it's okay with you.”
Cara was astonished. “You've discussed it with him?”
“Actually it was his idea. Seemed to think it might solve some other problems he was having. I don't suppose you know anything about those?”
“Yes.” She felt like shouting. She threw her arms around Scottie. “I love you.”
“I know that, but I'm not the one you ought to be saying those words to. I think there's a fellow over at the office who needs to hear 'em a whole lot more than I do.”
She grinned at him and hugged Louise. “I'm on my way.”
* * *
At the door to Scottie's office, she hesitated. Rod was sitting behind her father's desk, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms from which his tan was fading. He was chewing on the end of a pen and staring pensively out the window at the skyscrapers beyond. He didn't look happy. Her heart sank. What if this wasn't what he wanted after all?
She went up behind his chair and put her arms around his neck. “A penny for your thoughts.”
He twirled the chair around and pulled her onto his lap. “They're worth much more.”
He drew her head down for a long, breath-stealing kiss. “That's what I was thinking about.”
“I like the way your mind works. Any other ideas?”
“Plenty, but your father would fire me if I tried any of them out here.”
“That's not the way I hear it.”
Hazel eyes regarded her closely. “He told you?”
She nodded. “Is it what you really want?”
He sighed and tightened his arms around her. “Remember when you told me about wanting to follow in Scottie's footsteps? You said you'd discovered later that you were actually good at it.”
“I remember.”
“Well, that's what I've found out these past few weeks, too. I'm every bit as good in this office as I am out in the field.”
She touched a finger to his lips. “I never doubted for a minute that you'd be good at anything you decided to do. The question is do you like it?”
“Surprisingly enough, I do. I'm not sure I could take a steady diet of it, but with the agreement Scottie and I have worked out, I wouldn't have to. I'll split my time between fieldwork and New York, depending on...” His words faltered.
“Depending on what?”
“Things.”
“What things?”
Amusement lurked in the depths of his eyes and his lips formed a half smile. “You couldn't let me do this the conventional way, could you?”
She looked at him blankly. “Do what?”
“Propose. I actually had reservations for a fancy restaurant tonight. I'd ordered the finest champagne. I even put in a request for a full moon. I wanted all the romantic props.”
“You don't need them.”
This time she got a full-fledged grin. “Does that mean you want to hear my speech now? I have this one about compromise and love and commitment and white picket fences. It's in my pocket.”
She grinned back at him. “I'd settle for one that gets to the point.”
“Will you marry me?”
“And be your partner?”
“Actually I'll be Scottie's partner.”
She hit him. “You know what I mean.”
“Will you be my partner and friend and lover?”
“You left off wife.”
“You weren't listening, princess. As usual. That was the original question.”
“In that case, I accept.”
“Don't you want to think about it?”
“And give you time to change your mind? Not a chance.”
“It will be okay, princess, I promise you. We'll make it work.”
“I know we will.”
“Starting now.” He stood up and carried her across the office, then kicked the door shut. He took an extra five seconds to flip the lock.
“I thought you had dinner reservations.”
“I do.” His lips were hot and demanding as they swept along her jaw, across her brow. “Later.”
“Shouldn't we get dressed?” The words came out on a breathless sigh.
“Undressed is better.”
He proved his point by slipping her blouse off her shoulders. Her skirt slid to the floor. Her insides quivered as his hands moved over her.
“Undressed is definitely better,” she concurred. It was the last thing she said for a very long time.
Shadows filled the office and turned to darkness. Murmured words and quiet sighs filled the air. With Rod's body pressed to hers on the narrow sofa, Cara suddenly began chuckling.
“What's so funny?”
“I was just wondering about something. Do you suppose Scottie and Louise ever...”
“Cara!” He silenced her with a kiss.
They never did get to dinner.
* * * * *
“Sherryl Woods writes emotionally satisfying novels about family, friendship and home. Truly feel-great reads!”
â#1
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Read on for a special first look at Sherry's latest Chesapeake Shores novel,
Willow Brook Road
, now available from MIRA Books.
The original Mick O'Brienâdesigned cottage on Willow Brook Road had been built with weathered gray shingles, white trim and a tiny back porch barely big enough for two rockers side by side. They faced Willow Brook, which fed into the Chesapeake Bay. The backyard sloped gently to the brook, with the graceful branches of a trademark weeping willow touching the lawn at the water's edge. The peaceful setting was just right for quiet conversation or relaxing with a good book.
In front the cottage featured a small yard with an actual white picket fence and a climbing yellow rosebush that tumbled over it with a profusion of fragrant blooms. Bright red and hot pink geraniums filled pots on the stoop in a vibrant display of clashing colors. The property oozed picturesque charm.
With three cozy bedrooms and a fireplace in the living room and a surprisingly large eat-in kitchen, it was the perfect Chesapeake Shores vacation getaway or a starter home for a small family, but Carrie Winters had been living there alone and at loose ends for almost six months now. The only personal touch she'd added beyond the mismatched furniture she'd acquired from various family attics was the portrait of the whole O'Brien family taken at the Christmas wedding of her twin, Caitlyn.
These days, sitting in one of those rockers for more than a minute or two made her antsy. After two years in a pressure-cooker public relations job at which she'd excelled, being idle was a new experience, and one she didn't particularly like. She was too distracted for reading anything deeper than the local weekly newspaper. And though she loved to cook, making fancy meals for one person just left her feeling lonely.
Worst of all, she seemed incapable of motivating herself to get out of this funk she'd been in ever since coming home. Chesapeake Shores might be where she wantedâor even
needed
âto be as she tried to piece her life back together and reevaluate her priorities, but it had created its own sort of pressure.
While the rest of the O'Brien clan was unmistakably worried about her, her grandfather Mick was bordering on frantic. O'Briens did not waste time or wallow in self-pity, which was exactly what Carrie had been doing ever since the breakup of her last relationship. Timed to coincide with the crash and burn demolition of her career in the fashion industry, the combination had sent her fleeing from Paris and straight back to her loving family.
Carrie sighed and took a first sip of the one glass of wine she allowed herself at the end of the day. Wallowing was one thing. Getting tipsy all alone was something else entirely. Even she was wise enough to see that.
An image of Marc Reynolds, the fashion world icon she'd thought she loved, crept into her head, as it did about a hundred times a day. That was down from about a million when she'd first flown home from Europe after the breakup. If it could even be called that, she thought wryly. Truthfully, she'd finally realized that Marc thought of her more as a convenient bed partner and workhorse whose public relations efforts for his fashion empire had helped to put it on the fast track to international acclaim. Unbeknownst to her, his heart apparently belonged to a she-devil, self-absorbed model who treated him like dirt. Carrie could relate, since Marc had pretty much done the same to her. She was still struggling to understand how her judgment could possibly have been so clouded that she hadn't seen that sooner. Surely the signs had been there. Had she been so besotted she'd missed them? If so, how could she possibly trust her instincts about a man again?
Not that she was going to let
that
be an issue anytime soon. She was swearing off the male of the species until she figured out who she was and what she truly wanted. At the rate she was progressing on that front, it could take years.
Enough
! she told herself firmly, carrying her almost-full glass inside and stepping over a scattering of toys as she went. She smiled as she picked up a floppy-eared bunny and set it gently in a chair. A stack of children's picture books sat on a nearby table.