Read Dream Wedding: Dream Bride | Dream Groom Online

Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Romance

Dream Wedding: Dream Bride | Dream Groom (20 page)

He pushed those memories away. He didn’t want to have to think about that.

“Are you surprised?” Cassie asked.

“No. I guess not. I wish this hadn’t happened.”

“Give her time,” she said. “The same time you’re going to need. I suspect her pain will come in waves, then disappear for a while. She’ll probably make up stories about her parents to comfort herself. A lot of children do that when they’ve suffered this kind of loss.”

“Is that what you did?” he asked, then wondered if the question was inappropriate. But, he reminded himself, she’d been the one who had told him she was adopted.

“I didn’t make up stories because I didn’t have anything to remind me of my birth parents. Sasha will have photos, and you’ll talk about them. I don’t think she’s going to have memories, though. She’s pretty young.” She shifted in her chair and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I grew up knowing I’d been adopted, just as Sasha is going to know she lost her parents. I was always grateful that the Wright family had wanted me in their life. Sasha is going to be pleased to have her uncle Ryan to look after her.”

He didn’t know about the latter, but he nodded as if he did.

“You don’t believe me,” she said.

Her perception startled him. “I didn’t know you were a mind reader as well as being a genius when it came to kids.”

“I’m not, but it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable with Sasha. You’re feeling out of place, so the rest of it makes sense. It’s going to be okay, Ryan. In time you’ll be as thrilled to have her around as she is to have you around. Sometimes the family we have to earn can mean more than the family we’re given.” A warm glow filled her eyes. “My sister and my aunt are all I have left of my family and both are precious to me. Chloe, my sister, has always been there, but Aunt Charity is a relatively new addition. I treasure her all the more for being an unexpected bonus in my life.” She flashed him another smile. “You’re going to have to trust me on this.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Her gaze dropped from him to his desk. “I see you have a lot of work to do, so I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for taking the time to talk with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rose to her feet and quickly walked out of the room. Ryan stared after her until the door closed and he was again alone, then he turned his chair and stared out at the unfamiliar view of manicured lawn and trimmed hedges.

He’d never met anyone like Cassie. There were some who would say that her views of family were old-fashioned. Actually, he would be one of the first people in line to say that, but he was starting to wonder if maybe he was the one out of step. Just because everyone he knew, including himself, was driven by career rather than a personal life didn’t mean it was right.

He grimaced. “Who are you trying to kid?” he asked aloud. Yeah, family had its place, but everyone knew that getting ahead was the most important thing in the world. His own mother had spent her life dedicated to that philosophy.

He remembered all the times after he’d finally found success, when he’d wanted to give his mother something nice. Even though both of her sons had been secure in their careers and anxious for her to take it easy, she’d insisted on working two jobs, taking cash from her employers instead of vacation time. She’d always turned down their offers of nice clothes or a better house, urging them instead to invest the money. She’d been poor and hard-working for too long to believe it was okay to accept a “freebie” from anyone…even her children.

Now, when he thought about those years, he felt sad. She’d died without ever once taking time for herself, or time to enjoy all she’d earned. Her entire life had been a quest to have enough, and once she had enough, to have more.

Somewhere between her world and Cassie’s lay what was normal. At least in his opinion. But for now, he was weeks behind on his work and with full-time help to take care of Sasha, his days could finally return to something close to productive.

* * *

C
ALLIE
AND
J
AKE
moved closer to the crib. “What do you think is in there?” Callie asked, her little pink nose all wrinkled and her white whiskers quivering.

“I don’t know,” Jake answered as he put first one paw up on the edge of the mattress, then the other as he tried to see. “It makes a lot of noise and it smells funny. I’m scared.”

The calico cat and the marmalade cat looked at each other. Something strange was going on in their house and they weren’t sure they liked it.

Cassie stopped reading aloud and pointed to the pictures in the children’s storybook. “Can you see the kitties?” she asked Sasha.

The toddler cuddled against her as they moved back and forth in the rocking chair in Sasha’s room.

“Cat!” Sasha announced proudly as she pointed to the color drawing of the two cats cautiously investigating the new crib in their home.

“That’s right. Two cats. The calico one is Callie. She’s a girl cat. The orange cat is Jake. He’s her brother.”

“Cat!” Sasha said again.

“Two cats. Can you say two?”

“Two!”

“Very good.”

Cassie kissed the top of the little girl’s head and inhaled the baby talc scent of her. After dinner she’d given Sasha a bath, and now they were reading a story before bedtime. As far as first days went, it had been successful. At least in her eyes.

Sasha stretched and yawned, then pointed at the book. “Read,” she ordered. “Read cat story.”

So Cassie read about the two kitties who were scared of the stranger in their house. How they didn’t like the noises or the smells, but when they saw the baby for the first time, they got a warm feeling in their chest that made them purr. And how when the neighbor’s dog got inside by accident, they both stood up to the larger creature and protected the baby. The last picture showed the infant on its mother’s lap with both cats curled up next to her, ever watchful over their new charge.

“The end,” she said, and closed the book. “Time for bed.”

“Gen…read story gen.”

Cassie put the book down and carried Sasha to her crib. “Not
again.
Not tonight. You have to sleep.” She set her on the mattress, then pulled up the blanket and kissed her cheek. “Night, muffin. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Heavy-lidded blue eyes blinked slowly. “Read peas. Not tired.”

Cassie chuckled. “Liar. You’re exhausted. You’re going to be asleep in less than two minutes.”

The sound of murmured conversation carried to Ryan as he stood in the shadowy darkness of the hall. He told himself he should go in and say good-night to his niece. Maybe pat her shoulder or something. But the thought made him nervous. He wasn’t good at all the parenting stuff. Cassie was obviously a capable woman and Sasha was better off in her care.

So instead of joining them, he walked to his office and closed the door. But for once the silence and solitude didn’t invigorate him, and the thought of working didn’t inspire him. For the first time in a long time, he wanted something more than his computer and some time in which to concentrate.

It was that damn kid, he thought resentfully. She was going to change everything and he didn’t like it. No wonder he felt unsettled.

He sure could relate to those cats in that dumb story. He didn’t like the smells and the noise either. But when he looked at Sasha
he
didn’t want to purr…he wanted to run.

He wasn’t very proud of himself these days, but he didn’t know how to change. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to change.

He turned and looked at the portrait hanging over the fireplace in the makeshift office. It showed a laughing couple holding their baby daughter close. It had been done about a year before, when Sasha had been about a year old.

Ryan took in the man’s features, which were so similar to his own. His throat tightened. “Dammit, John, what do you want from me?”

Of course there wasn’t any answer. He hadn’t been expecting one.

“I wish…” he started, then his voice trailed off. He coughed to clear his throat. “I wish you hadn’t died. I miss you.”

Then, because he was a busy man who didn’t have time for all the emotional nonsense in his life, he turned his back on the portrait and settled down in front of his computer.

CHAPTER THREE

“M
E
HELP
,” Sasha informed Cassie as she banged the wooden spoon on the inside of the pot.

“I know,” Cassie said and smiled down at the toddler sitting by the kitchen table. “You’re a big girl and you help me a lot.”

The praise earned her a big grin. Sasha was such a sweet child, she thought as she turned back to the stove and checked on the meat loaf. A glance at the timer told her the main course still had about forty minutes to cook. Time for her to get started on the potatoes.

She collected a half dozen and began peeling them. Sasha sang tunelessly in an effort to accompany herself on her pot banging. Cassie wondered how far the noise would travel in the big house and if Ryan was having trouble concentrating.

This was her third day working for him, taking care of his niece. They’d all settled into a routine fairly quickly. She took care of Sasha while Ryan hid out in his office. He made occasional appearances, but most of them occurred after the toddler was in bed. Still, despite his lack of participation in the day-to-day events, Cassie knew he was in the house with her. There was something oddly domestic about the arrangement. While she liked it, the situation also made her a little nervous.

On occasion, she allowed herself to imagine everything was real. That this was her home, Sasha her child. By default, of course, Ryan was the adoring husband and father. It was like being a kid again and playing house, she thought. Only this time she couldn’t walk away if she got tired or wanted to play something else. There was also the added twist of hormones. Hers were still deeply infatuated with Ryan.

The mental image of microscopic hormone-filled cells swaying in time with some love song from the fifties caused her to chuckle out loud.

“What’s so funny?”

The unexpected male voice made her jump. Cassie spun and saw Ryan standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He propped one shoulder against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. As usual, he wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows. Today that shirt was blue.

There was something so incredibly masculine about him. While she knew in her head that Joel was also male, he seemed to have nothing in common with Ryan. It was as if the two men were two completely different species.

“I, um, was just thinking about some things,” she said when he continued to look at her expectantly. She could feel a flush heating her cheeks and she hoped that if he noticed, he would assume it was from the oven or the exertion of cooking.

“I see.”

She couldn’t tell if he was letting her off the hook because he was being polite or because he had figured out what had been on her mind and he didn’t want to talk about it. Please God, let it be the former.

“Unk Ryan!” Sasha waved her wooden spoon in the air. “Me help.”

“You’re like the drum major for a marching band,” he said. “I’m sure Cassie appreciates you setting the beat.”

Sasha frowned in confusion, returned to her pot and began banging against the side and singing. Ryan winced at the noise, then moved into the kitchen.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the noise.

“There’s a meat loaf in the oven. I’m going to make mashed potatoes and green beans.” Cassie paused, then lowered her voice as Sasha got caught up in the play of light on the pot lid and stopped banging. “I never thought to ask what you liked to eat. I generally fix simple things like this or spaghetti. Roast chicken, that sort of stuff. But if you have a preference, I can see what I can do.”

He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets and looked at her. “You’re not here to cook for me. You’re Sasha’s nanny.” He glanced around the kitchen. “I should have hired someone to take care of meals. I never thought about it.”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind. In fact, I sort of like cooking.”

His green-eyed gaze settled on her face. “Practice?”

His features were strong and so perfectly proportioned, she thought as she stared back. She’d never met a man with such gorgeous eyes before and she found that she really liked how they looked. He didn’t smile much, but when he did she could feel it all the way down to her toes. And his voice. Smooth and low, his voice belonged on the radio, or maybe recording books on tape.

“Cassie?”

“Huh? Oh, um, practice.” That had been the last thing he’d said, right? At least she thought so. “Practice for what?”

He pointed to her left hand. “When you get married. I was asking if you were seeing what all that would be like. This is a great simulation.”

Yeah, she thought dreamily, except they weren’t simulating the good parts.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” she forced herself to say, because he seemed to expect a response from her.

“You’re a natural. Your boyfriend is a lucky guy.” He smiled.

On cue, her toes curled, her stomach dove for her knees and her mouth went dry. The man had a smile that could change carbon into diamonds. Boyfriend, she thought vaguely. Oh, yeah, Joel.

Joel!
Yikes, what was she doing? She was practically an engaged woman. Cassie stiffened her spine and forced away all warm and yummy thoughts about her employer. She was wasting her time daydreaming. He was not for her. The man was successful, probably rich and definitely older by at least seven or eight years. She didn’t usually act like this. What was wrong with her? She forced her attention back to the potato she was supposed to be peeling.

“Thanks,” she said and was proud when her voice came out sounding completely normal. “I’ll tell him you said that the next time he and I are together.”

“You do that.”

“Unk Ryan, up!”

Sasha had abandoned her pots and spoon and now stood in front of her uncle. She raised her arms toward him. “Up,” she repeated.

“What does she want?” Ryan asked.

“Just what you think she does,” Cassie answered, not sure how it was possible to misinterpret the toddler’s request. “She wants you to pick her up and hold her.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

He mumbled more than spoke the comment as he bent over and reached for his niece. Sasha smiled broadly as he picked her up and held her in front of him. But when he didn’t move her close to his body, but instead kept her nearly at arm’s length, her smile faded.

Cassie dropped the knife and potato onto the counter, then moved next to him. “You’ve got to hold her so she feels safe,” she told him. “Sasha wants to snuggle. Rest her on your hip.”

She put her hands on the toddler’s waist and supported her while Ryan awkwardly shifted the child to his left. Only he didn’t have the same naturally curved hips that women had, Cassie realized a half second later as Sasha started to slide down.

“Wrap one arm around her waist and pull her to your chest. She can put her arms around your neck.”

She stepped back to give them room to maneuver, but it was too late. Sasha struggled to break free of him. “Down,” she said forcefully.

Ryan set her on her feet and shifted awkwardly. “I’m not around kids much.”

“It will get easier,” Cassie assured him, hoping she was telling the truth.

Sasha stared at her uncle with a hurt look of betrayal on her face. Tears were only a couple of seconds away, Cassie realized and moved to the silverware drawer.

“Can you help me set the table?” she asked, then handed the little girl three spoons. “Will you please put these on the table?”

Sasha sniffed twice, then took the spoons and carried them over to the table. She pushed them up onto the wooden surface, then took one back and returned her attention to her uncle.

“I’m not like you,” Ryan said, barely noticing the child. “I don’t have any natural ability in this arena.”

Sasha carried the spoon over to her uncle. She thrust it toward him. He glanced down at her, then at Cassie. When she nodded encouragingly, he took the spoon and patted the top of Sasha’s head. She beamed.

It was sad, Cassie thought as she watched them. If only Ryan had spent a little time in his niece’s company, he wouldn’t be feeling so out of place now. But he hadn’t and they were both paying the price. Every situation seemed so forced between them. She wished there was a way to make it easier…for both of them. The only solution was for them to spend more time together, but Ryan didn’t seem willing to pursue that option. He passed through their day like a ship’s captain checking briefly on the passengers before returning to more important duties.

“Be back,” Sasha said, then trotted out of the room.

“Was that a request or information?” Ryan asked.

“I think it was information.”

Cassie finished peeling the potatoes. She sliced them, then dropped them into the pot and set it on the stove.

“Do you want me to finish setting the table?” he asked. “You can probably trust me with the forks and knives.”

“Sure,” she told him. “Thanks.”

While he pulled out napkins and place mats, she went to work on the green beans. After a couple of minutes of silence, she began trying to think of something clever to say. When she failed on witty, she went with the obvious.

“How are you adjusting to working here?” she asked.

“I’m doing better.” He set out two place mats, then collected Sasha’s high chair from the corner and brought it over to the table. “I can do nearly everything I need to via conference call or through the modem. I might have to take a couple of trips back to San Jose, but they would be pretty short.”

Sasha raced into the kitchen and handed Ryan one of her dolls. He stared at it for a couple of seconds, then finally took it from her.

“Thank you,” he said.

Sasha grinned and raced out again.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

“Just hold it. She’ll be back shortly and it will hurt her feelings if you’ve put it down.”

“Great.” He looked at the doll. “I’m not much into redheads.”

“Maybe you should let her know,” Cassie said. But what she’d wanted to ask instead was how he felt about brunettes. Ah, she had it bad, she thought with resignation. But at least she would probably get over him just as quickly. Crushes didn’t usually last…at least she didn’t think they did. She didn’t have any personal experience with the subject. Maybe she should phone her sister and get some advice.

Sasha returned to the kitchen and skittered to a stop in front of Ryan. This time she held out a battered, flop-eared bunny.

“You are too kind,” he said.

Sasha giggled, clapped her hands together and made another mad dash out of the room.

“Looks like she’s going to empty her toy box just for your pleasure,” Cassie said. “You might want to get comfortable.”

The toddler returned with a book. This time, instead of just thanking her, Ryan reached into his pocket and offered her a penny.

Her rosebud-shaped mouth fell open as her eyes widened. “Money,” she said with all the reverence of clergy addressing God. She held it out to Cassie.

“Wow. Look at what you’ve got.”

Sasha clutched it to her chest as she ran out of the room.

“You’ve made a friend now,” Cassie told Ryan.

“I wasn’t sure she would know what it was.”

“I doubt she knows the value of a penny over a quarter, but she has a slight grasp of the concept. I don’t think she would be as thrilled with bills as she is with coins, though.”

“So she’s a cheap date.”

A rattling sound warned them of Sasha’s approach. This time she carried her Mickey Mouse bank in her arms. When she stopped in front of Ryan, she set the bank on the floor, sat beside it and carefully placed the penny inside.

Cassie applauded. After a half-second delay, Ryan did the same. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out another coin. Sasha took it and again slowly slid it inside. When it clinked against the other coins, she laughed.

They continued the game until Ryan held up his hands in mock dismay. “I don’t have any more change, kid. Sorry.”

“’Kay,” Sasha said in an attempt to reassure him.

Cassie checked on the dinner, then glanced at the picture uncle and niece made. Handsome, businesslike Ryan sat on a kitchen chair with a red-haired doll and a worn stuffed rabbit tucked into the crook of his arm. Sasha sat at his feet, leaning against him, currently mesmerized by the laces on his athletic shoes.

His hair was lighter than Sasha’s curls; their eyes were different colors. But Cassie saw some family resemblance between them. She caught it in a glance, the curve of a smile. She suspected they would look more alike as Sasha grew from a toddler to a little girl and her features became more defined.

The oven timer buzzed. Sasha straightened. “Food,” she said.

“That’s right. The meat loaf is done and the potatoes will be ready in about five minutes. It’s time to wash up so we can eat.” She pointed at the toys in Ryan’s arms. “Will you please take those back to your room for me?”

“I’ll do it,” Ryan told her as he stood. “I’m heading back to my office anyway.”

Cassie tried to ignore the flash of disappointment that raced through her. He wasn’t going to eat dinner with them? She wanted to pout like Sasha, thrusting out her lower lip and threatening tears if she didn’t get her way. Instead she asked, “Aren’t you hungry?”

He looked down at his niece, then at the set table. “Not right now. I’ll grab something later.”

Then he was gone. Cassie stared after him and wondered what had happened to chase him away. Her gaze moved to Sasha who was looking down the hall with the most forlorn expression on her face.

“I know just how you feel,” Cassie told her. “I wanted him to stay, too. And not just for me, but also because you two need each other. Unfortunately I don’t think your uncle has figured that out yet.”

* * *

“S
O
TELL
me what to do,” Cassie said as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the kitchen table.

Aunt Charity poured coffee into her mug. “I’m sure it’s frustrating.”

“Exactly,” Cassie said, relieved to finally have a chance to come home and talk with her sister and her aunt about Ryan Lawford. The old Victorian house was similar in size to Ryan’s, but had a completely different floor plan. Here Cassie knew every room, every picture. She was familiar with the sounds and smells. Who would have thought that just a week away would have left her homesick? She’d even been pleased to see Old Man Withers sitting on his power mower as he trimmed the lawn. Even though the old goat did little more than insult any woman who made the mistake of offering him a friendly greeting.

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