by JM Stewart
She turned her head to search the ballroom, stopping when she found her target. “I see the bar. I’m going to get a drink before this starts. A strong one.”
Gray laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be sitting toward the middle. They should be starting soon.”
She reached back, settling her hand over his in return. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”
Approaching the bar, the hunky blond behind the counter flashed a thousand-watter and rested his hands on the surface. She didn’t miss the appreciative gleam in his eyes as his gaze swept over her. “What can I get you, sweetheart?”
Momentarily distracted, she smiled in return. His grin could charm the panties off even the coldest woman, and with muscles on top of muscles, he looked like he could be one of Christina’s bachelors. He’d no doubt been hired for that reason.
Deciding to grab the evening by its ears, to not let the pain suck her under, she pulled her “bad girl without a conscience” out of her closet. She leaned on the bar, giving Mr. Muscles the once-over, along with a view of her cleavage. “Give me a Screaming Orgasm.”
Okay, so she’d rather have two fingers of scotch, but flirting with Mr. Muscles over there was exactly what the doctor prescribed.
Luckily for her, he took her sassy order with good humor. He grinned, one corner of his mouth hitching higher than the other, and pulled out a tumbler. He filled it with ice, added equal parts vodka, Irish cream, and coffee liqueur, and winked at her as he pushed the drink across the counter. “I get off at ten. For now, this’ll have to do.”
Cassie laughed. Yup. He’d definitely been hired for a purpose. No doubt he sold more liquor on his flirtatious smile alone. “You should be careful with lines like that. A lesser woman might take you up on it.”
He leaned his elbows on the bar, his grin widening. “Who says it was a line?”
She laughed again and dug in her purse, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and stuffed it into the tip jar on the counter. “Honey, you just made my night.”
Someone tapped the microphone. “Pardon the interruption, everyone. Can I have the ladies onstage please? We’ll begin in a few minutes.”
“Oops, that’s me.” She picked up her drink off the counter and saluted him before tipping the contents into her mouth. It slid smooth and creamy down her throat, hitting her belly and warming her from the inside. It didn’t thaw the ice around her heart, but it went a long way. She winked at Mr. Muscles. “Bachelorette number one.”
Somewhat bolstered, she made her way onto the small stage, taking her place at the head of the line of women. Busy finding their seats, the crowd beyond the stage wove their way through the rows of gray folding chairs. She had to hand it to them. The men were subtle, respectful. A group of women getting ready to outbid each other over hunky bachelors would have been a whole lot more raucous. Maddie, who’d attended the last three, had told her as much.
As it turned out, Gray and Maddie were seated at the end of a row in the center of it all. He caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Cassie smiled in return. Yeah, she could do this.
Christina stepped up to the podium, back straight, hands resting on the wooden surface. “Thank you all for coming tonight. Welcome to the fifth annual auction for breast cancer research. Of course, we’re all here for the same reason. To fight this disease. Breast cancer has claimed too many women in my family. I know some of you here tonight are survivors. I say we fight this disease with a little style. Now, every year since its inception, I’ve gathered Seattle’s finest bachelors. This year, I thought the men deserved a little treat. ”
Applause erupted through the ballroom. Several whoops came from various parts of the room. Christina laughed and waved her hands to quiet the crowd.
“All right, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce our first bachelorette, miss Cassandra Stephanopoulos.”
At hearing her name, Cassie drew a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and moved toward the podium. Drawing her inner vixen around her, she plastered on her flirtiest smile and put a little extra swing in her hips. Applause once again erupted around the room. From somewhere in the back, a wolf whistle pierced the air, though the lights pointed at the stage made seeing where it had come from near impossible.
Christina turned to wink at her as she approached the podium. “It appears you already have fans.”
Cassie laughed and took a bow. “Thank you. I’ll be here all night.”
“Gentlemen, a little about Cassie. Her father owns and runs the chain of Greek restaurants, Ariana’s Greek Café. She paints and designs custom jewelry. Her shop, Creations by Cassie, sits a few blocks from here. In fact, for any ladies in attendance, she designed the necklace I’m wearing. When asked, she said she likens herself to a sorority girl—she’s just out to have a little fun.” Christina looked up from her cards, winking at the audience. “But don’t get any ideas, guys. Her best friend is the big guy in the fifth row.”
Gray stood, humor lacing his tone as he turned his head, addressing the crowd around him. “Consider me her personal bouncer.”
When he bowed, Cassie playfully rolled her eyes. The crowd laughed.
Christina let out a soft laugh as well. “Actually, Cassie told me she thinks life is too short to be too serious. Isn’t that right, Cassie?”
Cassie forced herself to smile and nod, but her heart ached. Thinking she’d lost Tyler, on top of losing her mother and her brother, had taught her something. “I fully intend to enjoy the life I have. Live it to the fullest. Good food, good wine, good friends.”
Christina wrapped an arm around her, giving her a gentle, reassuring hug, before turning back to the crowd. Clearly Gray had filled her in. “All right, shall we start the bidding?”
More applause came from the crowd as Christina stepped back and the auctioneer took her place at the podium. “All right, gentlemen, let’s start the bidding at ten thousand…”
Several minutes passed as bids ping-ponged around the room, each one higher than the last.
“One hundred thousand,” a man’s voice called out from the back of the long room.
Cassie froze.
She knew that voice. She’d know it in the dead of night, in the darkest cave.
The familiar sound of it skittered down her spine, and her playful smile melted. Her hands shook at her sides. Heart hammering, she shielded her eyes, squinting against the bright lights aimed at the stage, and searched the crowd for the face to go with the voice. Even while she searched, rational thought warred with the pain still pounding around in her chest. It couldn’t be Tyler. He wouldn’t have come to see her. She’d hurt him too much, had looked him right in the eye and told him he meant nothing to her beyond sex. And then sent him off to die.
The room fell silent, tension rising over the space.
Christina’s hand slid over her shoulder, her voice warm and low in Cassie’s ear. “You’re three shades of white, honey. Are you all right?”
Cassie’s blood roared in her ears, pounding so hard the room began to spin, but she forced herself to smile and glanced at Christina. “I’m fine. The voice just spooked me. Sounded like someone I know.”
It had to be a trick of the room. The high ceilings made the noise echo. Combined with her grief, her ears clearly played tricks on her. She was hearing things, that’s all.
Christina didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
Cassie nodded. “I’m fine. Continue, please. I’m sorry for the interruption.”
Christina smiled and the auctioneer started the bidding again. As the bids once again ping-ponged around the room, the man in back, whose voice had spooked her, countered every bid. He didn’t say anything else but raised his bidding number repeatedly. Several more minutes passed; as the bids rose higher, the number of men participating dwindling to two. Finally, when the numbers reached four hundred thousand, the second bidder bowed out.
“Sold. To the gentleman in the back.”
As the auctioneer’s voice rang through
the room, the man in the back strode toward the stage. Cassie held her breath. The closer he got, the louder her heartbeat pounded in her ears. He looked like Tyler. He had the same tall build and broad shoulders, the same dark hair, cropped close, per army regulation. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes from this distance, though. Not to mention he looked thinner than Ty had been the last time she’d seen him. Ty had always been a big, burly guy, tall and thickly muscled. This guy was tall but lean, and he walked with a slight limp Tyler hadn’t had.
When he came to a stop in front of the stage, head tipped back to peer up at her, her heart stopped altogether. Closer now, she could clearly see his eyes were blue.
Like Ty’s.
Nausea swirled in her stomach, at war with the guilt, the part of her that wanted, needed, this man to be Tyler. She knew better, though…didn’t she?
The room swayed as dizziness swept over her. This was wrong. This was all wrong.
She jerked her gaze to Christina. “Is this some sort of a joke?”
Christina shook her head, looking between Cassie to the audience in helpless confusion. “I have no idea what’s going on, sweetie, but I assure you I had nothing to do with whatever this is.”
Cassie turned to look out over the audience, her heart hammering in her ears. Marilyn’s phone call came rushing back to her. “Tyler’s alive.”
She’d been waiting for this moment. She’d heard Marilyn’s words that day, a week ago now, but hadn’t truly believed them. She needed to see him.
Out in the audience, Gray pushed to his feet and strode toward the stage, his long strides closing the distance in record time. Concern etched his face.
“This isn’t real. It can’t be.” Cassie shook her head, watching Tyler’s eyes, waiting for him to explain, to say…something.
Tyler opened and closed his mouth a few times, but long moments passed in aching silence as he stared at her with tired eyes rimmed in shadows. Finally, his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I had to see you.”
Before she could think or remember to breathe, Gray came to a stop in front of the stage. He turned to glare at Tyler. “It’s fucking cruel to show up this way, man.”
Tyler turned his head, glaring back. “Three years. Three fucking years sitting…” He shook his head, his face blanching, and straightened his shoulders. “I saw the commercial on TV an hour ago. So fucking sue me for needing to see her.”
The sound of his voice washed over her, and hope and an almost surreal sense of joy expanded inside of her. How many times over the last three years had she imagined this moment? That he’d come home and she’d know he was safe. God, simply to know he was safe…And there he was, close enough to touch. Her whole body trembled with the overwhelming need to jump from the stage and hurl herself into his arms. For the simple luxury of feeling him real and solid and whole.
He’d come. He’d actually come to see her.
As shock receded, the memory of the last time she saw him filled her mind. So vivid and corporeal it might have been only yesterday. Tyler down on one knee, looking gorgeous in his uniform, a diamond ring in one hand and his heart in his eyes.
“Marry me, Cassie.”
Her response jolted through her next. The shock. The breath-stealing fear of losing him that had clenched at her chest. She’d turned his proposal down flat. Had looked him right in the eye and told him she didn’t love him.
The wall she’d put her pain behind three years ago cracked. Three years of grief flooded over her like a tidal wave, and a vise closed around her chest, threatening to pull her knees out from beneath her.
“I can’t deal with this.” Cassie stalked from the stage, moving as fast as she dared without resorting to running as she headed out of the ballroom. Head spinning, her stomach churning, she stalked the long hallway and jabbed the button for the elevator, her mind focused on her car in the parking lot. Home. She needed to go home. This whole night was a bad idea.
She only made it to her car, parked at the back of the quiet lot, before the pain refused to be held back any longer. The sobs she’d buried all these years broke free, and she sagged against the driver’s side door of her Jag as the tears washed down her cheeks.
How long she stood there sobbing, she didn’t know, but footsteps sounded on the pavement somewhere beyond her, echoing around the quiet lot. She sniffled, clutched her keys tightly in her hand, ready to fend off an attacker if need be, and turned her head. Tyler jogged in her direction, the backdrop of the streetlights illuminating him from behind. Like a goddamn angel from heaven. He came to a stop in front of her, his tall, broad form towering over her, his chest heaving.
His warm breaths misted in the cool night air, and one corner of his mouth curled upward. “You’re not making this easy, babe.”
His voice was still hauntingly familiar. She reached out a tentative hand, searching the face she’d know in the dark. Prominent cheekbones. A strong jaw. He’d lost weight. The planes and angles of his face had become more pronounced, his skin paler, eyes sunken and rimmed in shadow. He had a haunted look about him now. “Tell me I’m not dreaming, Ty.”
“I’ll do you one better.” He cupped her face in the warmth of his palms, stared for a moment, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks before leaning down and capturing her lips. His mouth was warm and familiar, but it wasn’t the passionate kiss she remembered. He kissed her softly at first before settling his mouth more firmly over hers. His fingers trembled as they stroked her face.
Lost in the moment, in the fantasy, she leaned into him. Any minute now she’d wake up, and he’d go poof, and she’d find herself alone in bed. Right then, though, it was the best damn kiss she’d had in a long time, and God help her, she lifted onto her toes to get more of him. If she was dreaming, she had every intention of milking it.
When she laid her palms against his chest, needing his warmth, to feel the solidness of his body, he flinched again and jerked back. Confusion flicked over his features before recognition settled in his gaze. He fisted his hands in her hair, pulling her back to him, and rested his forehead against hers. “Jesus, I missed you.”
His words finally rooted her, and the last lingering threads of denial unraveled, dragging her back to reality faster than a bucket of ice water. This wasn’t a dream, some fantasy her mind had conjured. He was real.
All of which sent her hope spiraling straight into her toes. Tyler wouldn’t have said that to her. The last time she’d seen him, they’d fought. She’d said horrible things to him that day, then sent him off to die. Why the hell would he miss her? Why would he even want her after the way she’d treated him? She wouldn’t.
Drawing strength from the pain threatening to swallow her, she braced her hands against his chest and forced herself to step away from him. Keys clutched in her hand, she pointed the fob in his direction and glared at him. “I don’t know what the hell kind of game you’re playing, Ty, but you made your point, okay? This isn’t funny anymore.”
His brow furrowed in confusion and he opened his mouth, but she hit the key fob and climbed inside her car, slamming the door. She hit the button to start the engine, dropped the shifter into drive, and stomped on the gas pedal. She didn’t breathe or blink or even dare to look back until he’d become little more than a fading speck behind her.
Chapter Two
Staff Sergeant Tyler Benson drummed his fingers on his leg as he stared at the door in front of him. Over three years had passed since he’d last stood in this spot, staring at this door. Three years, two months, and seven days to be exact.
Yet the private vestibule around him looked the same. Gray marble flooring and matching walls. A chair and an end table, of all things, as if someone would sit out there to wait. Though he knew damn well he had, on more than one occasion. The space came complete with a fancy chandelier above his head. Cassie insisted on only the best. For her, it was the penthouse.
They were oil and water, from two contrasting worlds. He’d come from what his mother had
always referred to as honest roots. She’d raised him and his older brother, Dean, on her own, after their father’s death. Over the years, Mom had had to work two jobs in order to make ends meet, and he’d gone into the army because he wanted to make her proud.
Cassie was that untouchable girl, but she’d hooked him from the first sassy comeback she’d tossed at him the night they’d officially met. God, she had spunk.
Sitting in that poor excuse for a prison cell in Iraq, waiting, day after day, to die, he’d thought about her a lot. He had too many regrets when it came to her. Too many unanswered questions. Had he only imagined she’d had feelings for him, too? Had he imagined the tender way she’d stroke his cheek? Or the fierce possessiveness of her embrace in the darkness of night?
He’d thought about the last night he saw her the most. He knew finding him at the auction wouldn’t go over easy, but he had to see her. He needed to see the light in her eyes, her smile. Hell, simply to stand within the same space as her, if only to prove to himself he hadn’t imagined her.
Drawing a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and forced himself to knock on the door. Restless anxiety had adrenaline firing through him, and Tyler turned and paced the tiny hallway. He’d endured three years in an Iraqi prison, had been shot, beaten, and starved, watched men he lived and fought with die in front of him. In awful ways. Yet somehow, the thought of seeing Cassie again had his heart jackhammering his ribs.
When grumbling registered on the other side of the door, he swallowed the thick paste in his throat and wiped sweaty palms down the front of his jeans. Christ. He’d probably drop at her feet if she opened the damn door.
The door finally did open, though, revealing Cassie in all her glory. Being nine o’clock at night, she had on her pajamas. Pink pajamas, no less. She looked different. She’d cut her long hair and lost weight. Cassie had always had a healthy figure. She looked this side of too thin now, her cheekbones more pronounced. Her big brown eyes had a haunted look in their depths.