Chapter 9

The next morning, Cassandra woke to the sound of Troy’s heart beating in her ear and her hand on his stomach. His woodsy-with-a-hint-of-mint male scent teased her nose. The hair on his leg tickled her calf. She snuggled closer, basking in the warmth of the security he provided. He felt so good.

After a yawn, she let the soothing rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat lull her back to sleep.

She and Troy—a real couple. What a wonderful dream.

Her eyes sprang open.

Sunlight filled the room.

Oh, no. This wasn’t a dream.

Cassandra stared at Troy, a night’s growth of whiskers covering his face. His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell with his breaths. His hair was disheveled.

Asleep, he looked so young, but he wasn’t a boy. Troy McKnight was a full-grown man, one who’d shown a tenderness last night that touched her and a passion that left her begging for more.

Wanting more now.

Last night had changed everything and nothing. She sighed. Troy wasn’t hers. Wouldn’t ever be hers. Yet, being with him had felt so good, so right.

Cassandra touched the light cover of hair on Troy’s chest. She felt safe and at peace being with him. Odd feelings considering the disturbing effect Troy had on her senses. Strange, no doubt, but she felt as though she belonged. That was a way she hadn’t felt since she’d quit her job to rediscover herself and open the bookstore. Not even being engaged had made her feel like this, which in retrospect should have been a red flag she was with the wrong guy.

As she brushed a stray lock of hair off Troy’s forehead, she imagined a flower-filled church and a tuxedo-clad Troy waiting at the altar for her to walk down the aisle in her bare feet.

A stupid thought because they weren’t engaged.

That was a technicality when it came to daydreams, but still…

No matter how he made her feel, she shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. Her mind could counter every reason her heart brought forward. Except…

A new awareness hit her.

No. Oh, no…

Cassandra swallowed the lump lodged in her throat.

She was falling for Troy McKnight.

Doing so made no sense, but that would explain her crazy feelings. Not that she wanted to feel anything more than gratitude for him helping her out. She didn’t. Falling for him was the last thing she wanted to happen.

Even if, and that was a big if, she wanted to fall in love someday, Troy was everything she didn’t want in a man—a venture capitalist, materialistic, ambitious, predictable. A man like her ex-fiancé. As she had once been. It didn’t matter that Troy was intelligent, caring, gorgeous, and polite. Following her heart was a recipe for disaster. Her experience with Eric had taught her that.

No problem. Falling for Troy didn’t mean she was in love with him. That would be foolish, especially knowing what he wanted from life. This was nothing more than a crush. Gratitude on steroids. Still, saying goodbye when they no longer had to pretend might not be as painless as she hoped. Oh, well, she’d survived worse.

Troy opened his eyes. Dark lines suggested he hadn’t slept much, but he smiled at her. “Good morning.”

Her stomach tingled. Tingles meant nothing, absolutely nothing. She waited for him to let go of her, but he didn’t. “Good morning.”

His gaze never left hers. “Did you sleep well?”

“I, uh.” Unable to find the right words, Cassandra pressed her lips together. Troy’s smile made her feel warm all over. She wanted to touch him and kiss him. But she didn’t want to make another mistake. In two weeks, he would be out of her life.

He’d been correct last night. Taking whatever was between them further would have been a big mistake. He had a life plan to get what he wanted. She had her own life to live—a life she loved.

Cassie had worked hard to be the woman she was meant to be. She refused to go backward to who she’d once been, even if that person fit perfectly into her family and Troy’s world. She couldn’t do it—wouldn’t.

He tensed. “Is something wrong, Cassie?”

“Of course not.” She pulled the comforter up to her neck. Cassandra wasn’t modest, but being in the same bed with him made her feel shy. The thin fabric of his T-shirt and her panties provided scant protection. Not that she was afraid of Troy. She was more scared of what she might do.

How had things gotten so mixed up? Maybe messed up described the situation better.

Continuing to pretend he was hers would be so easy. Her parents looked happy. She was, too. Something she’d never expected. Her body’s responses to his kiss and his touch were brand new. No man had ever made her react or feel that way. Not even Eric. But she couldn’t keep playing along when she knew this had nowhere to go.

“What’s wrong?” Troy asked again.

“Last night was…wonderful.”

Smiling, he kissed each of her fingertips. “I’m sorry we had to stop.”

Her, too. Cassie’s throat tightened, but she had to do this. She pulled her hand away. “I know, but—”

His eyes darkened to the color of a stormy sea. “But what?”

This wasn’t going to be easy. Not with her heart wanting one thing and her mind another. No going back now. “I thought about the, uh, complications of our actions.”

“And?”

I’m falling for you. I need that to stop. Now. Before I wind up in love with you.

She took a breath. “We have nothing in common, but there is some kind of—”

“Chemistry.”

Understatement of the year. “Yes, but you were right to stop.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m glad you agree.”

“I do.” Cassandra’s heart pounded. She wished for once Troy hadn’t agreed with her, but this was for the best. She knew that logically even if her heart disagreed. “And we shouldn’t kiss again if we’re alone.”

There. She’d said it. So why did she feel so miserable?

♥ ♥ ♥

Cassandra rinsed the last breakfast plate and placed it in the dishwasher. Outside the kitchen window, a slight breeze rippled the clear water in the pool. Her family and Troy sat on the patio outside. Five people drinking coffee on a Sunday morning under a sunny, blue sky. Five people who shared outlooks and goals. Five people she didn’t want to be like in any way.

She placed detergent into the soap tray.

This weekend, Troy had managed to fit in with her family as if he were one of them. He’d helped her handle her meddling parents, and she appreciated that, but she hadn’t expected to come away from the weekend having feelings for him or wanting to see him again.

But she did and would.

Unfortunately. “Ugh. This sucks.”

She wanted to forget about his kisses and how he made her feel. She wanted to forget about him, but she couldn’t. Their fake engagement needed to last two more weeks.

And after that…

Cassandra slammed the dishwasher door.

Troy tapped on the window screen. He wore a white T-shirt under a blue chambray shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He looked as though he’d stepped off the pages of a Ralph Lauren ad.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

She didn’t want to go outside. Staying inside was safer. The more time she spent with Troy, the more she wanted to spend with him. A lose-lose situation.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she said.

He glanced at her family. “You’d better hurry.”

Her muscles tensed. “What’s wrong?”

“Your family is getting carried away.”

The again was implied.

“I told you—”

“It’s more than that.” Concern filled his voice. “You won’t believe who Dixon wants to invite to the engagement party.”

She could only imagine, and that irritated her. Here she was getting all worked up about Troy, and he was concerned about a guest list. If that didn’t show her how different they were, nothing would. That should stop her from falling any deeper.

“You’re not listening,” he said.

“Who does my dad want to invite?”

Troy rambled off the names, including several of the power brokers in Silicon Valley. He would be in heaven—she would be in hell.

She wanted to groan but didn’t. “That’s quite a list.”

He shrugged.

A shrug? That wasn’t the reaction she expected from him. “Aren’t you excited?”

His forehead wrinkled. “What if something goes wrong? I’ve worked so hard and am so close. This could turn into a complete disaster.”

This was already a disaster, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. He couldn’t go into the party nervous and expecting something bad to happen. Emily or someone else would pick up on that vibe right away and pounce.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Cassie said in a calm voice. “You will impress them so much they’ll all wonder why you aren’t working for them.”

The words weren’t difficult to say because she believed them. She might not want the life Troy did, but her father wouldn’t be wasting his time if he didn’t think Troy was good at what he did.

“Thanks.” He blew out a breath. “I needed to hear that, but you should get out here. Emily and your mother are deciding where we should register.”

Cassandra picked up a towel to wipe off the counter. “Register?”

“For wedding presents.”

Memories of doing all the engagement stuff with Eric rushed back. Her stomach clenched. “That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

“But we aren’t engaged.” She lowered her voice. “We can’t accept presents.”

“We’ll return them after you break my heart.”

Very funny, McKnight. He’d exit the relationship without a scratch. But her…

Cassie didn’t want to think about that. She hadn’t forgotten the heartache of returning wedding and shower presents after the breakup with Eric. Her mother had offered to do it, but Cassandra hadn’t wanted to involve her mom for fear of blurting the truth about Eric and Emily’s cheating. As Cassandra returned the gifts, pitiful looks from family friends and her father’s business associates had reduced her to tears. No way could she go through something like that again.

“If we get any presents, you’ll be the one to return them. Not me.”

“Fine.”

She raised her chin. “And how come you get to be the one with the broken heart?”

He glanced down.

“That’s right.” She washed her hands. “You don’t want to offend the mighty Dixon Daniels.”

“It’s not that.”

“Yes, it is.” Troy’s main concern was his career. He’d made that clear, so she shouldn’t be surprised. She dried her hands on the dish towel.

“Please, come outside.” Troy shoved one of his hands into his shorts pocket. “I need you.”

If only that were true.

With a shake of her head, she turned on the dishwasher. “On my way.”

How hard could this be? A little more chitchat, and then they would go home. She picked up the coffee pot.

Home to an empty apartment.

The thought depressed her.

Maybe she wasn’t falling for Troy, but she liked the warm and fuzzy way he made her feel. She didn’t need him for that. She could get a pet. A dog. No, a cat. She could take a feline to the bookstore while she worked. Yes, a cat was what she needed. She would apply to a local rescue group and get pre-approved to adopt as soon as Troy was out of her life.

Carrying the coffee pot, Cassandra walked outside. “Anyone need a refill?”

Her father took the pot and set it on the glass-top table. “Have a seat, Cassie.”

Troy patted the pillow on the empty wrought-iron chair next to him. “Come here, sweetie pie.”

Her mother smiled. “Cassandra, we’ve been discussing the engagement party. You need to register for wedding presents.”

“That isn’t necessary.” Cassandra tried to keep her tone steady. “Both Troy and I have our own places. We don’t need anything new.”

“Yes, you do.” Her mom didn’t use her this-isn’t-up-for-discussion tone often, but she was now. The end results were always the same—her mom winning the discussion. “I know the perfect place in San Francisco. It’s different from what you used before. I’ll make an appointment for you this week.”

As if she could just forget about the last time she’d done this. Cassandra sighed. “I have to work.”

“I’ll make an evening appointment and go with you.” Her mother wasn’t swayed at all. “Troy, you’re welcome to join us.”

His face paled. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“Leave it to the women,” her dad suggested. “You’ll only end up saying yes to what Cassie decides anyway.”

Her mom elbowed him. “That’s not true, and I’ll be there more as an observer than participant.”

Her dad snorted.

“I never got to do this with you the last time,” her mom continued. “It’ll be fun.”

No. This couldn’t be happening. Cassandra wanted her parents out of her life, not driving up midweek to help her pick out china and crystal patterns. Her fake fiancé ruse had gotten them more involved in her life, not less. “We might want to wait until we have a wedding date.”

“Don’t forget about the engagement party.” Emily sounded almost giddy.

Don’t panic. Think positively. Two more weeks and there would be no more interference, matchmaking, or wedding plans. Fourteen days wasn’t that long. Wars had been lost in less time.

“Sure,” Cassandra said finally.

Her dad clapped his hands. “Wonderful.”

“About the engagement party…” Emily tossed her hair behind her shoulder in a move she’d practiced since she was a teenager. “We’ve decided a black-tie affair might be too much considering the short notice.”

“Of course, black-tie optional won’t work either,” Eric added. His words earned him a smile from his wife.

“You’re right, as usual, Eric.” Emily patted his hand like a woman petting her trained lap dog.

Marrying Eric would have been a complete catastrophe. He was, however, perfect for her sister. Emily could be as bossy and demanding as she wanted, and Eric wouldn’t complain. He would ask how high she wanted him to jump. That was the way he’d remain on the Dixon Daniels gravy train.

“Halloween is coming,” Eric said. “We could have a costume party.”

Both her parents shook their heads, as did Emily.

“We wouldn’t mind if you postponed the party to give yourselves more time to plan.” Troy entwined his warm fingers with Cassandra’s. Her stomach fluttered. She tried pulling her hand away, but he wouldn’t let go.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that.” Emily pursed her lips and stared at Cassandra. “Let’s make the event semiformal. We can go shopping next week to find you a dress to wear. I know the best boutiques in the city. We’ll go every day until we find something…spectacular.”

Cassandra wasn’t ready to spend that kind of time with Emily. Coffee would be too long. “I don’t—”

“That’s nice of you to offer,” Troy interrupted. “But I’d rather go shopping with Cassie. We haven’t had much time to spend together.”

What was he doing? Balling her free hand, Cassandra stared at Troy. This was ridiculous. She liked being independent. She didn’t need her parents, her sister and brother-in-law, or Troy getting involved in her life or taking her shopping. She could pick out her own clothes just fine.

“I have an idea that will solve all of our problems.” Cassandra was fed up with them. “Why not make the party clothing optional?”

♥ ♥ ♥

Troy drove through the gates of Dixon’s house and glanced at Cassie in the passenger seat. Tension filled the air. She sat on the other side of his truck’s cab, but the distance between them felt like miles, not a foot or two. This was not going to be a fun drive home.

And that was totally her fault.

He never knew what she might say, but he couldn’t believe she’d suggested people attend their engagement party naked. “Clothing optional?”

She shrugged.

Troy should have expected her to say something like that. He focused on the road ahead. “Don’t you think that was a bit extreme?”

“Extreme is the only thing that works with my family.”

“You like to shock them.”

She didn’t deny it.

He continued. “Your mother and Emily looked like they were going to faint.”

“They aren’t the fainting types,” Cassie said without missing a beat. “Besides, I had to say something. My mother was so fired up about us registering. She would have our wedding invitations picked out, printed, addressed, and in the mail if we hadn’t left when we did.”

“Things were getting out of hand, but you’re exaggerating now.”

“Not at all. And if you can’t see it, you need to stop being blinded by what our fake engagement can do for your career.”

Maybe music would settle her down. Troy plugged in his cell phone. The jazzy strains of a saxophone solo didn’t lessen his stress.

“I’m not blinded,” he said.

“Then how can you not see that this has turned into a huge mess?”

“It’s not that bad.”

She shivered. “I don’t want to register for wedding presents.”

“I’ll come with you.” He didn’t want to go either, but he couldn’t leave Cassie to do this on her own. Not when she sounded so horrified at the thought of registering. “What night are you going?”

“Wednesday night. But I don’t want you to come. It’ll be easier without you.”

“Then I won’t go,” he said, relieved. At least he’d tried. “But the party—”

“Will be a nightmare, too.” She rubbed her face as if she could wipe away what was happening. “Do you know why Emily is throwing this engagement party?”

“To be nice?”

“She’s setting us, well me, up for something. I don’t know what, but I think she wants us to break up.”

Let Emily try. “Did your sister tell you that?”

“No, but you heard her remark to you, and how she wants to find me a dress. She’s telling you that I will be an unsuitable wife.”

“You’re not unsuitable.” He thought about his words. “You’ll make someone a great wife.”

Cassie laughed. “Someone is the key word. Someone who isn’t a rising star in the venture capital arena.”

At least she understood how he felt and wasn’t upset. She rejected the world he was struggling so hard to make a life in. He could see her being satisfied with the life his parents lived. The hard work would appeal to Cassie. So would the land and quiet. He had a feeling she would fit into his family better—clothing-optional comment aside—than he fit in to hers. Not that he was going back to Missouri. He’d given up so much to reach his dreams, and he needed Cassie to stick this out a little longer, but how? Maybe she just needed the right encouragement “Do you hate the business that much?” he asked.

“Yes. Our engagement party will be the epitome of all that is wrong with that world. Trust me. I’ve been through this before.”

Had Eric taken her to parties? Perhaps Dixon? Troy tried to picture her among the fancy appetizers and free-flowing wine and champagne, but he couldn’t. She didn’t fit in with the social-climbing crowd. She would be out of place and have nothing in common with the spouses and dates in attendance. “Have you been to enough parties to know for sure?”

“I used to work for Richardson and Scott.”

Troy’s mouth gaped. Richardson and Scott was one of the largest and most prestigious investment banking firms in the country. Cassie, with her flowing skirts, oversize shirts, and sweaters, had worked at the traditional firm? He couldn’t picture it.

“What did you do?” Troy asked.

“I was a research analyst.” By the tone of her voice, he would have thought she was a member of a firing squad. “Computer software, and I also did a stint in M & A.”

His spontaneous, rule-breaking, tattooed Cassie had been a research analyst and worked in mergers and acquisitions? Troy wondered if she had an MBA. “Why aren’t you still working there?”

“I didn’t like it.”

“But it’s a great company. The compensation makes up for the long hours.”

He caught her shrug from the corner of his eye.

“I still didn’t like it,” she said.

Richardson and Scott had a solid mentor program. She must have been out of her mind to quit. Unless she’d been fired. “Why?”

“I hated getting up early. I hated working late, especially during reporting season. I hated office politics.” Cassie grimaced. “I also hated wearing suits.”

Suits? She gave up a tremendous career because of the clothes she was supposed to wear?

That made no sense to him. “You were burned out. Why didn’t you just take a leave of absence?”

“I did.” She gave a satisfied smile. “I took a permanent leave of absence.”

“But—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Cassie bit her lip. “It wasn’t only the job. The entire investment industry made me miserable. I never smiled. I would stare at the mirror and not recognize myself. My priorities got screwed up, and I lost sight of who I was inside. I started having anxiety attacks. It was awful.”

“But you must have had everything you ever wanted.”

“Oh, I had a great flat in the Marina, designer clothes, and a German-built convertible. I made lots of money, but when you’re working eighty hours a week and unhappy, what good is it? I realized being wealthy wasn’t as important as I thought it was.”

But money was important. If Cassie had grown up as he had, struggling to make ends meet every month, every day, she’d think differently. “That’s easy to say and do when you have your father to fall back on.”

“I have never fallen back on my father.” Anger flared in her eyes. “Do you think my daddy sends me a check every month?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I own a bookstore. I used the money I saved when I worked for Richardson and Scott, liquidated my investments, sold my car, and borrowed the rest. From a bank, not my dad.” Cassie wrinkled her nose. “At least those long hours got me something worthwhile.”

Her words surprised Troy. She didn’t seem like the kind of person to devote the time needed to make a business successful. “What about the gas money?”

“I save the money my father gives me. I use it to buy him gift certificates for rounds of golf at his favorite courses. Has your curiosity been appeased?”

“Yes.” Troy had upset her. He’d made the wrong assumptions about her. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Why is money so important to you?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She wanted to know, but he still hesitated. “You grew up with the proverbial silver spoon. Not me. I was raised on a farm where my parents struggled to put food on the table and to dress us in clothes that fit.” Troy rolled his shoulders. “We never had extra money.”

“Kids always think there’s never enough money.”

“Did you?”

“No, but—”

“One Christmas, we were having a really rough time. Rain had damaged the crops that fall. My father had broken his leg. There wasn’t enough money for presents. My mother and I stayed up all night on Christmas Eve. We baked cookies and made candies so my brothers and sisters would have something in their stockings on Christmas morning.” Troy gripped the steering wheel. He would never forget the dark circles and bags under his mother’s eyes or the expression—one of embarrassment and desperation—on his father’s face. “That Christmas, I decided I would never struggle like my parents. I wanted to be able to provide for my family, put food on the table, and have presents under the Christmas tree.”

“How old were you?” Cassie asked.

“Twelve.”

“Were you happy?”

“Yes, but that was before I realized how much my parents worked just to make ends meet and still were one bad weather forecast from bankruptcy,” he said. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, Cassie. But please don’t romanticize my upbringing. Being poor and being happy do not go hand in hand.”

She stared out the window. “Neither does being rich and being happy.”