Читать книгу Stress and The City - Stephanie Rowe - Страница 9

TY FELT AS IF HIS WORLD was exploding. He’d seen the kiss coming and been ready for it.

Or so he’d thought.

He hadn’t been prepared for his blood to crash through his veins like a tidal wave trying to burst out of his body. He hadn’t been ready for the fire that was instantly ignited down south, for his hands to snap around her, anchoring her against him while he returned her kiss with a fervor more appropriate for a clandestine affair between lovers than a kiss engaged in only to make her ex-fiancé feel like the bastard he was.

Ty couldn’t stop himself from spreading his hands across Cassie’s back, feeling her shoulder blades move under his fingers as she tightened her grip on him, pressing herself closer. And when the delicate murmur of pleasure echoed from her throat, Ty couldn’t stop himself from responding with his own masculine growl of possession and passion.

He could feel Cassie’s breasts flattened against his chest through his suit jacket and starched shirt, felt his own body rise in response. And when the kiss became intimate in a way that an outsider could never see, his response was for her alone, for only the two of them. Only they knew he could feel the smooth surface of her teeth with his tongue and that she was responding with her own exploration, each touch sending the fire in his body escalating to new heights.

“He’s gone.” Leo’s amused voice broke through his fog.

Their lips froze, locked in the kiss like a pair of teenagers wearing braces.

“I said, Drew is gone.” Leo’s voice was louder now and even more amused.

Finally, Ty broke the kiss, but didn’t let go of Cassie. She kept her hands around his neck, staring at him with a look of startled awe. “I know,” he said.

Cassie blinked and finally appeared to realize what she was doing. Color rushed into her cheeks, turning them red through the bronzed tint of her skin, and she released him so quickly it was as if she’d been burned. Which was exactly how he felt. With regret, he let his hands slide off her soft sweater as she stepped away from him.

Leo moved into his line of vision, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That looked like one hot kiss.”

Cassie’s cheeks turned even redder, though he wouldn’t have thought that was possible. “Um…Drew was being a jerk, so I, um, you know…I couldn’t let him…and Ty was being so nice…and Drew…idiot…so I guess I had to do something.…”

How could a woman capable of delivering a kiss like that be so genuinely embarrassed and cute afterward? There had been nothing “cute” about that kiss, yet now he wanted to wrap his arms around her and snuggle up with her to watch a movie in companionable intimacy. And then he’d take her to bed for some of that lovin’.

Hell, what was he thinking? He had no business letting his mind wander in that forbidden direction.

Cassie turned toward him, her eyebrows puckered in mortification. “Um, Ty, I’m really sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” No need at all. He’d take that kiss with him to his grave.

“No, really. I’m not the type to molest men I don’t know.”

“Or even men she does know,” Leo chimed in.

Cassie nodded. “Right. I don’t attack men. I swear.” She pressed her thumb and index finger into her forehead and shook her head. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Ty chuckled. “Trust me, any woman who can kiss like that has no reason to be embarrassed.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips, as if she wasn’t sure whether he was serious. Surely she’d gotten compliments before. No man could be the recipient of a kiss like that and not fall at her feet.

A strange pain in his gut surprised him. Was he actually bothered by the thought of her kissing other men as she’d just kissed him? He’d have to get over that and fast. Time to depart and get away from her influence.

There were certain things he didn’t want to know about himself, and his reaction to Cassie was one of them. Engaged men simply didn’t have those kinds of reactions to other women. Entirely unacceptable, regardless of whether the love between himself and his fiancée extended beyond friendship or not.

When he’d asked Alexis to marry him, he’d committed to her, and that’s how it was going to stay. So what if they both knew their relationship was based on friendship, not romantic love? When her parents had died, he’d vowed to take care of her, and he would. Committing to a marriage that had no hope of romantic love wasn’t a sacrifice. He’d never been in love in his life, so it wasn’t as if he was forgoing that sort of opportunity.

Or at least, he hadn’t thought so until Cassie’s kiss created a possibility that loomed most unwelcome.

“I have to go,” Ty said. “Nice to meet you, Cassie.”

He left the two women staring after him, Leo looking utterly delighted and entertained and Cassie still looking as if she wanted to crawl beneath one of the tables and hide under the paper tablecloth until everyone was gone. He wanted to stay to reassure her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.…

Which was why he had to leave.

Now.

And consider buying a house in a different town.

Or a different state.

Or better yet, a different country.

He had a bad feeling that even Australia wouldn’t be far enough to make him forget about Cassie.

CASSIE WATCHED TY disappear through the raucous crowd, her cheeks still roasting.

“Wow. Was that kiss as good as it looked?” Leo folded her arms across her chest and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Depends.” It was absolutely astonishing that Cassie was able to speak coherently. She was truly gifted in her ability to don an exterior that hid the fact that her insides had melted. “How good did it look?”

“Like we should’ve called the fire department.”

Cassie plopped down on a folding chair and propped her chin on her hands. “The fire department would’ve been impotent.”

Leo sat down across from her and whistled. “That hot, huh?”

“If we hadn’t been in a roomful of people, I think it’s very possible I would have thrown him down and torn off that gorgeous suit.” Cassie sighed and leaned on the table. Her body was still tingling where Ty’s hands had held her, and his scent seemed to have settled in the fibers of her sweater. It was almost as blissfully heavenly as Leo’s chocolate concoctions. Cassie had never felt like this with Drew.

Drew. Now, why did she have to go and ruin a perfectly good moment by thinking of him? Very annoying.

“That would have been something, to see you throw Ty on the table and rip his clothes off,” Leo said.

“Speaking of worthy visions, Drew stormed out the emergency exit, with a veritable billow of smoke coming out his ears.”

As the heat began to subside in Cassie’s body, sense began returning to her brain. An unwelcome phenomenon from both angles. “Good God, Leo. I attacked him.”

“Yes, you did. Quite brilliant, really.”

“No, Leo, it’s a bad thing. I made a complete fool of myself in front of the entire town.”

Leo snorted. “Nonsense. At least half the town isn’t here.”

Like that made a difference. Cassie moaned and dropped her head to her arms, trying to bury her face in the table. “I’m going back to the Bahamas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The man loved it. You could see it all over his face.”

Cassie lifted her head off the table. “Really?”

“Yep. Maybe he could be your rebound man. Have a wild fling with him that restores your faith in yourself as a sexual dynamo when it comes to men.”

“I’m not a sexual dynamo.” A sexual flat tire was a more accurate description.

“I bet Ty would say you were.”

“I doubt it.” But a flutter of hope danced in Cassie’s belly at the thought. Wouldn’t that be interesting? As if it would happen. “Besides, I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Because Drew burned you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just want to be single. I’m not upset about Drew at all.”

Leo raised her eyebrow and Cassie lifted her chin. As if she’d ever let Drew win. “I could, however, use a little chocolate.”

Leo hopped to her feet. “Nothing like chocolate to solve a woman’s problems. After that display, I’m sure you’re in need of some therapy.”

“It’s going to take the entire dessert table.” And then some. Drew and a wanton display of impropriety all in the same evening? Not a good start to her life as a single woman.

Not a good start at all.

IT HAD BEEN LONG ENOUGH. Eight days since she’d returned from her honeymoon unwed. Eight days since she’d sucked face with a hot guy in front of her exfiancé. Eight days for her tan to fade.

Time to get her business going again. With the wedding approaching and Drew trying to convince her to close up shop so she could play little wifey, she’d been too stressed…ahem…busy to spend much time drumming up new clients.

Didn’t she look like the smart one now, refusing to listen to Drew and give up her career? What kind of shape would she be in currently if she’d quit her job and had no husband? Oh, and the monstrous bill from the wedding that she’d footed because Drew had insisted that was the bride’s responsibility. Mustn’t forget about that souvenir from the Almost Biggest Mistake of Her Life.

Cassie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she peeled around a snowy corner in her trusty Subaru. Maybe Drew had been trying to bankrupt her before the wedding so she would be financially dependent on him.

Bastard.

Anyway, she was totally over that, had spent the week cleaning up her office, closing accounts with old clients and opening files with new ones.

So what if she’d totally forgotten she’d promised to start Malcolm Tyler Parker’s treatment right after she got back from her honeymoon? She was on her way there now, wasn’t she? What was a week, huh?

Okay, so it was unforgivable that she’d misplaced the file. Fine. She could admit it. Perhaps she’d been a wee bit unsettled by the last month. She was together now.

Cassie coasted to a stop at a red light and glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to seven. She’d been planning to show up at Mr. Parker’s at exactly seven in the morning.

Her usual modus operandi for a new client.

Sure, he’d called her to set up a consultation, saying he was having trouble sleeping. That didn’t mean he’d actually ever tell her what was really going on. That was why she’d developed her strategy with all her new clients.

Show up unannounced at a bad time to start therapy. The client was always super stressed, and she usually got a very good idea of what she was dealing with.

There was a reason why she’d been written up in the New York Times as an excellent stress therapist. She was brilliant. How could she feel bad about herself if she kept pumping herself up like this? She couldn’t. Was she smart or what? It was a good thing she was so talented and got her own advice for free, or she’d be an emotional mess. And she wasn’t an emotional mess, if anyone was asking.

Cassie drummed her fingers impatiently on the dashboard, waiting for the light to change.

What if her new client had been at the dance and seen her display? It was bad enough she’d shown up at the event dateless, but making out with some stranger in front of everyone? Imagine the damage that could do to her professional reputation…unless she could figure out a way to call it research. Hmm…

Then again, was heavy-duty lip action with a really gorgeous guy so bad? No doubt everyone was talking about how Drew had stormed out and how Cassie was totally together and emotionally magnificent after such heartbreak.

It wasn’t as if anyone at the dance knew how close she’d actually come to vomiting all over Drew. Perhaps all was not lost…assuming she decided being known as a roving temptress was better than being known as “the woman who had a nervous breakdown and never recovered.” She could just imagine when she was ninety-two and doddering about town, people pointing to her and saying, “She had such a promising future once and now she just sits home alone picking lint out of her carpet. What a shame. What a shame.”

Instead, she’d be sauntering down the street at ninety-two with a horde of eager young bucks hoping to get a chance with the town’s sexual dynamo trailing after her.

A ninety-two-year-old prostitute. Somehow, that just didn’t have quite the ring she was looking for.

No matter. She’d just avoid men in every capacity and life would be good. Perhaps she should go back to the Bahamas and learn how to run from the giant bugs. Probably be less stressful than sorting out the oh-so-fabulous changes in her life.

Cassie whacked her forehead as she turned right onto Ridgeway Road. What was she thinking? She wasn’t stressed. She was fine. Fabulous. Wunderbar.

Perfectly capable of normal everyday things, like noticing what a nice neighborhood she’d just turned into. She frowned. Actually, it was really nice. Like, her dream neighborhood. Old, charming and classically New England. Houses with big wraparound porches, exuding character and personality.

Then she saw her destination: 153 Ridgeway Road.

That was it. She was officially in love with this house.

It was her dream home. Six dormers, three brick chimneys, huge windows. How could she possibly have lived in this town for her entire life and never known of the house? It should have called to her and forced her to find it.

Not that she could have afforded it, but still, she could have at least tried to find the money. Maybe she could have sold her body to wealthy old men for a few nights…yeah, right. No way could she sacrifice her body to dirty old men, no matter how nice the house was. The guy from the New Year’s Eve dance was another matter entirely.…

Ack! What was she thinking?

Ty had been a mistake, albeit a fun one given Drew’s reaction, but a lapse in judgment nonetheless. He was still a man and, as such, didn’t deserve to be thought of fondly. Starting now, men didn’t exist except as target practice when she was driving her car. Oh, and as clients and, therefore, as a way to fill her bank account.

And people thought she was bitter. Hah!

She was fine and ready to work, dammit. So she pulled into the driveway of her dream house and shut off the ignition.

She pushed her car door open with her foot, testing the driveway for traction.

Ice hidden beneath a dusting of snow.

Looked friendly. Treacherous beneath the surface. Just like a man.

But she meant that in the most complimentary way possible, because she really didn’t have baggage that was going to destine her to become an ill-tempered, unwanted old lady who chased little children with her cane just to hear them scream.

Not that she was paranoid that she’d never have another chance to get married again. That was a ridiculous notion. The last thing she wanted to do was date another man, let alone get married. The fact that she was starting over in the dating arena at age twenty-seven? No problem. She couldn’t have planned her life better if she’d tried. Everything was perfect.

She planted other foot solidly on the ground, grabbed her personal digital assistant that was oh-so-handy for downloading straight into her computer, straightened her suit, dug her heels into the snow for traction and prepared herself to march up to the door of her new client and change his life.

Hmm…maybe she should get a dog. Drew had always been antidog, but he was gone now, wasn’t he? If she got a dog, at least there would be one male who would share only her bed at night. Floppy ears, thick fur, four legs and a tail now topped her list of desired attributes in a man. Wouldn’t that be entertaining, if she started asking her dates to drop their pants so she could inspect for a tail?

See? There was humor in her miserable life.

Dammit. She’d used that word again: miserable. If she kept doing so, someone was bound to think she actually felt that way. She must eradicate it from her vocabulary, effective immediately.

She watched her breath puff out in white clouds as she hurried up the steps, carefully balancing her weight so her feet didn’t slip out from under her. Think about the client. Right. She could do this. Concentrating was no problem. She was a highly sought after professional genius, right? Of course right. She was never, ever wrong.

Okay…so find the significance of the icy steps.…Wow. It was like her brain was in a deep freeze. Come on, Cassie! Think! No, don’t panic that you’ve lost your talent. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. Relax the muscles. Think about the client. Icy steps. Client. Stress.

Got it! Obviously, Malcolm Tyler Parker was too busy to put sand on his steps. Very interesting.

Cassie pulled out her PDA and jotted down the information. The man couldn’t sleep and didn’t take care of his property. Good to know. She entered the information in the “failure to perform basic home maintenance” column and proceeded to the door.

Hopefully, her new client would be an easy fix.

She wasn’t sure she was up to a monstrous challenge with a recalcitrant client, not with her soul still splattered on the pavement and trampled by a herd of rampaging cattle.

Scratch that.

She was fine.

Her soul was intact.

Her ego…maybe a little frayed around the edges. Nothing that a quick hem job couldn’t fix. If only she knew how to sew…

She forced herself to take a leisurely moment to admire the old horseshoe that had been converted into a door knocker, then banged on the door.

One minute after seven. Perfect timing.

No one came to the door.

She knocked again.

Still no one.

Cassie frowned. Surely he hadn’t left already? She clicked on “work schedule” to double-check her file. Yes, he’d told her he left for work shortly after seven. He should still be there. Her notes were never wrong.

She knocked again, harder, pretending it was Drew’s head she was pounding against the wood. Ah, how soothing. Taking her own advice to identify her stresses and visualize resolution, however socially inappropriate or legally prohibited.

She was definitely a genius.

A door slammed inside the house and Cassie straightened. She patted her hair to make sure it was neat, checked her nylons for runs, clamped her teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter from the cold, ignored her desire to rush home and put on flannel-lined blue jeans, fleece-lined boots and a wool sweater, and readied herself to face her new client.

With any luck, he would be extremely annoyed by the interruption and she could see what he was really like. She was on a roll now. The old Cassie was back. She should become an inspirational speaker on how to recover from emotional devastation. She was that amazing.

The unmistakable click of a lock being opened cued her to don a demure smile that would neither propel her new client into more stress nor dissipate stress that might already be present. Was she good or what?

The door opened and she forgot everything. “You’re kidding.”

“Cassie? What are you doing here?”

It was Ty.

From New Year’s Eve.

The same Ty with whom she’d tongue-tangoed eight days ago.

This was so not turning out to be her month.