Dream Wedding(132)

“I suppose.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“We’re intelligent.” They were also great together when it came to kissing, but he didn’t think he should point that out to her. While he knew he was more experienced than she, he’d never felt the kind of instant fire before.

“And funny,” she agreed. “But so what?” She put the cooked pancakes onto a plate, then poured four more circles of batter onto the griddle. “Face it, Ryan, we’re from different worlds. A man like you would never be interested in a woman like me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I would be interested.”

He’d spoken without thinking. Cassie glanced at him. “I don’t think so.”

He cleared his throat. The conversation had gone a lot better when he’d had it alone in his shower. Somehow she wasn’t getting her lines right. “What I mean is that we have enough in common that differences in our living styles aren’t significant. I’m not making a play for you, I’m just pointing out that your logic is flawed.”

“Thank you for sharing.”

He saw the glint of humor in her eye and knew that she was laughing at him. He didn’t know whether to be offended or join in the joke. In the end, it was easier to ignore either option and plunge ahead.

“My point is,” he said, moving closer and lowering his voice, “that you don’t have to worry that I’m going to attack you. You’re my employee working in my home. You are entitled to my respect and you have it. I promise I will never compromise your position or violate your trust again.”

She flipped the pancakes. “Thanks, Ryan, but it never occurred to me that it would be otherwise. The kiss was a one-time thing. Not to worry.”

Her casual dismissal made him want to shake her. Or kiss her again. Which showed him how far he’d gone over the line.

“You’re safe here,” he said.

“I know.”

He gritted his teeth together. “Great. Just so we understand each other.”

“We do. You can stop belaboring the point.”

Her smile took the sting out of her words, but he couldn’t help feeling that he’d lost complete control of the situation. When and how had that happened? And why wasn’t he happy with everything she was saying? It was exactly what he’d wanted to hear.

But he wasn’t happy. He wanted her to be…what? Afraid? He shook his head. That wasn’t right. Maybe it was that she’d put the situation out of her mind so easily, when he was finding it difficult not to pull her close and do it all again.

“Everything is ready,” she told him. “Go sit down.”

He did as she asked. As she put his breakfast in front of him, she spoke. “I have a couple of things I need to do this afternoon. I’ve checked with Aunt Charity. She can come by and baby-sit Sasha. I hope that’s all right.”

“It’s fine. Take as long as you’d like.”

Sasha claimed Cassie’s attention and Ryan was left feeling as if he’d missed something very important. Everything had gone his way, so why did it all feel so wrong?



CHAPTER TEN

CASSIE SAT AT a corner booth in the small fast-food restaurant at the back of the Bradley Discount Store. She resisted the urge to check her watch. After all, she’d looked at it about thirty seconds before, so she wasn’t likely to be surprised by the time.

She glanced around at the plastic furniture and wished she could have met Joel somewhere other than here. From her seat she could see out into the store. There were too many people and not enough privacy, but when she’d called Joel that morning he’d said he couldn’t spare more than a few minutes for her. Her choice had been to come to the store, or put off their conversation. Cassie had agreed to come to him rather than wait another day.

She took a sip of her soda and wondered what on earth she was going to say to him. She’d practiced several different approaches in the car, but each had sounded more stupid than the last. There was no easy way to do this, but it had to be done. She had to tell Joel the truth. She wanted to be as kind and gentle as possible, but she had to get the message across.

She heard footsteps and glanced up. Joel crossed the black and white floor, moving toward the booth. He wore gray slacks and a pale blue shirt, along with a cartoon-print tie. His hair was neat, his face freshly shaved. He held a clipboard in one hand. He looked like what he was—a busy, albeit harried, manager.

“Hi,” he said, sliding onto the plastic bench opposite hers. “Sorry I’m late. There were some problems in housewares.”

“It’s fine. I’ve only been waiting a few minutes.” She paused. Now what? “Joel, I have something to tell you.”