Dream Wedding(124)
“I know. That’s all we ever see each other.”
“But it’s been nine years.”
“We don’t need to spend every minute together.” She kept her tone pleasant, even though she was feeling vaguely attacked. “This works for us.”
“If you’re finding each other boring before you get married, then you two are in trouble.”
His voice was teasing, but Cassie couldn’t smile. Ryan spoke something she hadn’t dared to think to herself, but that she could no longer avoid. She stared at him helplessly, not sure what to say, then faked a chuckle as coldness enveloped her, chasing away any lingering warmth from the brandy. Was that what was wrong? she wondered. Did she and Joel already find each other boring?
She dismissed the sense of foreboding that swept over her. It was the night, she told herself. Or maybe the man. None of this was real.
They sipped their brandy in silence. Ryan told himself it was getting late and that he should send Cassie upstairs, but he didn’t want to. Not only did he not want to be alone, but he enjoyed her company. She made him laugh; she reassured him; she reminded him that he was alive. And if he was honest with himself, he would be willing to admit that he also wanted her, which was completely different from not wanting to be alone. The ache inside of him was very specifically for the woman sitting at the other end of the sofa. He couldn’t call one of his female friends and have her stop by to fill the void…not this time.
Unfortunately, the only woman he wanted was the one woman he couldn’t have.
He looked at her. The light from the floor lamp reflected on her gleaming, dark hair. She took another sip of brandy. “You’re staring at me. Do I have a smudge on my cheek?”
“Sorry.” He forced himself to look away. “Not at all. I was just wondering about you. You’re very different from anyone I’ve ever met.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I know what that means. I’ve always been the country mouse. I guess I always will be.”
There was nothing mouselike about her, but he couldn’t admit that. Not with the night closing around them and his wanting growing…along with other parts of him. If he inhaled deeply, he could almost catch the sweet scent of her body. He wanted to know what she would feel like in his arms. He wanted to explore her generous curves, touch her soft face, kiss her and taste her and…
He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “I meant ‘different’ in a good way,” he told her. “While you’ve chosen a perfectly respectable path, it isn’t one designed to provide you with material benefits.”
She chuckled. “That’s a polite way of saying I’ll never be rich working in a preschool.” She shrugged. “I know that, but making lots of money isn’t important to me. I grew up in a typically middle-class town. We didn’t have tons of money, but there was always enough. When my parents died, they left me a trust fund. While it isn’t millions, if I had to, I could live off it for several years. As it is, I’m just letting the proceeds reinvest.”
She took a sip of her drink. “I always knew that I wanted to work with kids. I love their energy and enthusiasm. They’re so honest with their feelings. Sometimes I wish I could be more like my sister. Chloe wanted a career and made that happen.”
“You have a career,” he reminded her.
“It’s not exactly the same.” She stared into her glass. “Chloe always wanted to get away from Bradley and I always wanted to stay. When she met Arizona she realized that she had everything she needed right here, which is nice. I enjoy having her close. But it is ironic. I mean I’m the one who cares about genealogy and the history of the family and the town, but she’s the real Bradley. I’m just adopted.”
She said the words easily, as if they were simply information. But Ryan sensed something underneath, something hidden. The truth, he suspected, hurt her. She wanted to belong as much as her sister did. But by a quirk of birth, she never would.
“John and I grew up in a series of small apartments,” he said. “It must have been nice to have a house that had been in the family for generations.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “It was. Our mom would tell stories about the founding of the town, along with tales of the different Bradley women.” Her smile faded. “It’s been nearly ten years and I still miss my mother. I suppose that’s one of the reasons I understand Sasha so well. I know what she’s going through.”
He nodded. “I suppose there’s good and bad to being older when one loses a parent. You remember the good times, but you also remember the loss. Sasha isn’t going to have any memories of John and Helen.”