by Lori Foster
So here he was, well-to-do, gorgeous, and still so darn nice. He respected people, their accomplishments and their limitations, which made him easy to be around, easier to like.
Pride and intelligence, her two most noticeable fortes, told her Pete wasn’t a guy to fall for, not with his carefree, live-for-the-moment attitude. It had been pure idiocy on her part to tell him about the condo for sale next door to her. Dumb, dumb. He’d moved in a few months ago and now they had this ultrafamiliar relationship that kept them in constant but platonic contact. It was maddening.
They were such good friends that he even felt at ease teasing her about her butt. Cassidy covered her face and groaned. He’d invited her over to watch a movie. He wanted to pal around.
The big dope.
Okay, so no one saw her as a sexual being. That didn’t mean she was without desire. Where Pete was concerned, sex was about all she had on her mind. Sitting on the couch with him, knowing he was that close, pretending to watch television when instead she breathed in his scent and wallowed in his warmth and gradually melted…it was the act of a masochist. It was desperate and pathetic. Enough already.
She’d go to the movies by herself instead. She’d glut herself on popcorn and cola and by the time she got home, she’d have herself back in control. She’d even be able to face Pete in his boxers without drooling.
Mind made up, Cassidy snatched up her car keys and headed for the front door. She shoved her feet into her sneakers, turned the knob, jerked the door open—and ran face-first into a brick wall.
At least, it felt like a brick wall. After recoiling and almost falling, she managed another look. No wall, but close. “Duke,” she said stupidly while rubbing her bruised nose, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Since Duke was built like a cement slab and thus considered himself invincible, he grinned. “I’m fine.” He reached out and brushed some of her tumbled hair from her face. “Sorry about that.”
“My fault entirely.”
Next to Duke’s six-foot-six, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound frame, her younger sister, Holly, looked like a delicate, disgruntled miniature. “Cassidy, what on earth are you doing?” She eyed the keys, Cassidy’s sloppy clothes, then propped her hands on her hips. “If it was any woman but you, I wouldn’t ask. Most women wouldn’t be seen dead wearing what you have on. But knowing you don’t care how you look, and considering you have your keys in your hand, I have to ask.”
Please don’t, Cassidy thought.
Her sister forged on, haughty in her accusation. “You forgot that you invited us over to dinner, didn’t you?”
Invited them? It was more like she’d had her arm twisted. “Umm…” Lusting after Pete had warped her brain.
“Cassidy,” her sister wailed, as if the world had started to descend into hell. “You promised.”
Holly was set on getting her family to worship Duke as much as she did. Because their mom and dad wanted only the best for Holly, that wasn’t likely to happen. But Holly was convinced that if she got Cassidy’s blessing, their parents would fall into line. Like she had that much influence? Right. Just because she was the sensible one.
It was enough to make a red-blooded female howl.
Cro-Magnon man—otherwise known as Duke—ushered both women inside. For a football player, he was gentle enough. But in Cassidy’s opinion, her sister was too young to concentrate on anything other than her college studies. She should be thinking about her career, about gaining her independence before she got tied at the hip to a gargantuan sports aficionado.
“Holly, calm down,” Duke said. “Maybe Cassidy just had to run an errand.”
Cassidy snatched at that excuse like a lifeline. “Exactly. I forgot dessert.” Thank you, Duke. “I left steaks on the counter. With it ready to rain, I figured we’d just broil them inside. Why don’t you two go ahead and get everything ready while I run to the bakery?”
Holly started to protest, but Duke squeezed her into his side and smiled. “No rush, Cassidy. We’ll manage till you get back.”
Cassidy looked at him from under her brows. Oh, she might be sensible, but she wasn’t blind. She knew that heated look as well as any woman. Duke always looked that way when he was with Holly. Well, she would rush, damn him. It didn’t matter that her sister was old enough to make her own decisions on intimacy. Cassidy didn’t intend to aid and abet.
She went out the door in a trot, and even with family drama to occupy her mind, she couldn’t help thinking of Pete. Had he already called another woman to come over? His car was in his driveway, but his condo windows were dark.
She wouldn’t succumb like so many other women. Sure, succumbing would be sublime, but far too temporary. And after all, Cassidy was the sensible one.
What a curse.
Chapter Two
Pete couldn’t take it. Somehow, Cassidy, with her contrary lack of interest, had him frothing at the mouth. He never frothed. Okay, so he’d had a few semi-serious crushes in his day, the most noticeable being toward Ariel. But that was before she became his brother’s wife, even before she’d met Sam. Once she’d met him…well, everyone except Sam had noticed that Ariel was head over heels in love with him. Seeing that had cured Pete’s crush real quick, and now he loved Ariel as a sister-in-law, but certainly nothing more.
Since then he’d just dated and enjoyed life and women and the fun of being single.
But there was nothing enjoyable about how he felt right now—sort of rejected and dejected and annoyed. Why didn’t Cassidy want him?
Maybe he needed to clue her in, let her know he wouldn’t be adverse to the idea of some cozy time in the sack. Hell, it’d be great. They were already friends. They knew each other, trusted each other, enjoyed each other…so why not enjoy each other a little bit more?
Pete pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, and barefoot, went out the back to see if Cassidy was grilling yet. He’d sniff her steaks and she’d invite him to join her and he’d move from there. He’d be casual, relaxed—he’d sneak the idea of wild sex in on her. Anticipation had him semi-hard before he discovered that she wasn’t in the back.
He was hot, but her grill was still cold.
Frowning in disappointment, Pete wondered if the weather had chased her inside. The sky had turned black and static filled the air. It would start storming soon, probably throughout the night. Perfect weather for making love.
Maybe they could skip dinner and go straight to the idea of sex. Feeling like a desperate voyeur, Pete peered in through her patio doors, but didn’t see her. He considered his options, raised his hand to knock—and heard a noise in her bedroom. That window was open, too, and Pete stared at it, teased with the idea of Cassidy changing clothes, maybe getting in or out of the shower…The sound of a soft, hungry, vibrating moan resonated out to him.
Pete’s heart, thoughts, and breath all stuttered to a standstill. Was that a moan of…sexual pleasure? His reaction was swift and confusing: jealousy, possessiveness, and red-hot anger. He strained to hear more while everything masculine within him went on the alert.
Another moan reached him, then another, higher in pitch, each subsequent moan rising in excitement until they peaked—and Pete’s hair damn near stood on end.
He felt betrayed!
She turned down a movie with him to have sex with someone else. Never mind that she didn’t know he wanted to have sex with her.
Forcibly, Pete unglued his feet and stalked away in a temper, but even after he’d stepped into his own kitchen and slammed the door, the sound of her pleasure, sweet and deep, reverberated in his head, pounding against his skull.
Cassidy was involved sexually with someone—someone other than him. That sucked.
He’d only just decided that he wanted her, and he’d already lost his chance.
Dinner was a nightmare that had taken forever, but now it was over. The cake she’d bought was completely consumed, a pot of coffee polished off, and still Duke and Holly lingered.
Maybe she
should have invited Pete over. She’d noticed his car still in the drive when she returned from fetching dessert. He could have served as a buffer, a guy for Conan the Barbarian to regale with football stories. For herself, Cassidy had heard enough about tackles, passes, and kicks to last a lifetime.
Pete was so good with people, he’d have found a way to steer the conversation, to keep it entertaining for one and all. He could have told more anecdotes about his cop brother, Sam, or his niece, Nicole. He could have discussed sport-induced injuries with Duke. He could have just been there, smiling and making everyone else smile.
Cassidy didn’t realize that Duke had finished his story until she caught him grinning at her. Good grief, how long had she been sitting there with that stupid look on her face while she daydreamed about Pete?
With far too much perception, Duke asked, “Thinking of a guy?” When Cassidy just gaped at him, he said, “I hope we didn’t interrupt your plans. You could have invited your boyfriend to dinner, too.”
Cassidy’s face burned. Her boyfriend? Pete was not a boyfriend. He was a miserable, sexy, forever-out-of-reach pal.
Holly started laughing. “Cassidy doesn’t date!” She made it sound like the most absurd thing imaginable. “She hasn’t been involved with anyone since…gosh, when was it, Cass? Better than a year ago, I think.”
Felt like ten years to Cassidy, but then, celibacy probably had that effect on many people.
Duke’s smile turned sympathetic. “Now Holly, your sister is too pretty not to date.”
Pretty? Well okay, she wasn’t an ogre, but…Duke was probably just trying to score points. Still, Cassidy found herself tucking her disheveled hair behind her ears and twittering in the age-old way of women.
“I never said she wasn’t pretty,” Holly protested. “But as my folks are fond of saying, Cassidy is the levelheaded one. She doesn’t waste her time on guys.”
Uh-oh. Now Duke was sure to be insulted. After all, what male ego would like being called a waste of time?
But to Cassidy’s surprise, Duke picked a different bone entirely. “Meaning you aren’t levelheaded?”
Cassidy did a double take. She hadn’t thought about it from that perspective. She knew her parents meant well, and she’d always taken the comments to mean Holly was the personable one, the one who got friends and compliments and dates easily. Cassidy thought they were throwing her a crumb, giving her the only credit they could. But the look on Holly’s face assured her that Duke had read her sister right.
If Cassidy felt insulted for being called too responsible, how did the comments make Holly feel? Cassidy automatically reached out to her. “Holly, Mom and Dad didn’t mean—”
Holly gave her brightest smile. “I bet you were wishing us gone so you could get to bed, huh?” And then to Duke, “Cassidy’s an early bird. You’d think she was eighty-seven instead of twenty-seven, with the way she conks out so early.”
Cassidy started to deny that accusation, but Holly’s eyes were pleading, so instead she fashioned a wide yawn. “Sorry. I did have a really busy week.”
Duke pushed to his feet and gently hauled Holly up and into his side. He was a demonstrative man and he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her sister.
He was so attentive, no one could miss how he felt about Holly.
Teasing, Duke said, “I still think it was a guy. I’ve seen that look before.”
Holly playfully swatted at him. “Not lately, you haven’t.”
“Not from anyone but you.” He kissed Holly’s nose. “It was really nice of you to have me over, Cassidy. Next time is my treat.”
“Great idea, Duke.” Holly hugged his arm while giving Cassidy a beseeching look. “Maybe you can talk Mom and Dad into joining us.”
They acted like lovesick teenagers, Cassidy thought, and really, Duke was so very nice to Holly, would it be that bad if they were in love? “Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”
With a grateful squeal, Holly embraced her. “Thanks, Cass. I know this whole relationship thing is out of your league, but—”
Duke laughed, cutting Holly off. “She hasn’t been living in a cave, Holly. Come on. Let’s make a break for the car while the rain has slowed down.”
Cassidy watched them go. The rain had been furious earlier, with lots of thunder and lightning, but now it seemed to have settled into a steady but gentle downpour. Duke made a point of holding his jacket over Holly’s head. He opened her door for her, touched her cheek, and smiled at her with love and affection. Cassidy sighed. No one ever looked at her like that. She could see why Holly was smitten.
With food for thought and a final wave to her sister, Cassidy locked up. She turned out all the lights in her condo, took a quick shower, pulled on a tank top and panties, and climbed into bed. Her window was still open and the cooler breeze drifted over her face, her body. She’d probably end up chilled in the night, but for now she needed the fresh air.
She couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of her sister in love tangled with thoughts of Pete. Why couldn’t he dote on her the way Duke doted on Holly? She rolled to her back and answered her own question: because Holly was everything she wasn’t—fun, beautiful, sexy.
Pete’s last girlfriend had been the young executive type. She’d stopped in the center to pick him up, usually too early, which Cassidy could tell annoyed Pete. Not that he showed it, she just knew him really well. Maybe that’s why things hadn’t lasted with Ms. Corporate Exec.
Cassidy propped her arms behind her head and watched the shadows on her ceiling. Because she lived next door to Pete, she’d watched the women come and go. Usually a woman lasted about two weeks before Pete got bored. Any woman who set her sights on tying him down was bound for disappointment.
She certainly wouldn’t expect anything lasting from him. Well, other than their friendship, which seemed pretty strong. But Pete liked women like her sister, polished to a soft glow, ultrafeminine, and very ladylike.
She didn’t fall into any of those categories, so she didn’t stand much of a chance at gaining his attention even on the short term. Not that she’d go out of her way anyhow. She had her pride.
But pride ran a cold second to kissing, touching, and being held. Maybe if she just gave Pete a nudge to let him know she was interested, he’d pick up from there. She couldn’t be too obvious. For her entire life, she’d been au naturel—what you saw was what you got. She wouldn’t change who she was—not for Pete, not for anyone. But maybe she could just try a few small refinements.
Cassidy chewed her lip and considered her course of action.
A trim for her long hair was way past due; she’d just been too busy, and too unconcerned, to deal with it. But thinking of the too-curly mess it had become, she decided to set an appointment in the morning. And she could dab on a really subtle fragrance, something naturally earthy, like musk. While she was at the mall to get her hair trimmed, she’d also pick out a scent.
Pete had noticed her shorts, so she’d wear them again, maybe with a low-cut top. Her cleavage wasn’t anything to crow about, but she wasn’t flat-chested, either.
What did she have to lose?
Rolling to her side, Cassidy wondered if Pete would even notice the small changes. She would never be the type of woman he gravitated to, but they were friends, so maybe he wouldn’t mind getting more intimate with her.
She’d put her plans into action tomorrow—and hope he didn’t already have a date.
Pete was up with the sun. After hearing that disturbing moan—disturbing on too many levels—he’d tried turning in early. But sleep had been impossible and he’d spent hours tossing and turning, thinking of Cassidy over there with someone else while his muscles cramped and protested. He’d tried to block the awful images from his mind, but they remained, prodding at him like a sore tooth: Cassidy with some suit-wearing jerk; Cassidy getting excited; Cassidy twisting and moaning.
Cassidy climaxing.
He couldn’t stand it.
By seven, he was showere
d, standing at his closet and staring at the lack of professional clothes. Oh, he had a suit, the one he’d worn for his brothers’ marriages. Gil had fussed, trying to insist that he buy a new, more expensive one, but Pete refused. He hated the idea of shopping for the thing, trying them on, getting fitted. Then he’d have to pick out a shirt, and a tie, maybe cufflinks…He hated suits.
But Cassidy loved them.
Stiff and fuming, Pete jerked on khaki shorts and a navy pullover, then paced until it got late enough to go to her place. She generally slept in on Saturday mornings. He knew her schedule as well as he knew his own. Right now she’d be curled in bed, all warm and soft and…He couldn’t wait a minute more.
He went out his back door and stomped across the rain-wet grass to her patio. He pressed his nose against the glass doors, but it was dark inside, silent. Daunted, Pete looked around, and discovered that her bedroom window was still open.
Shit. What if the guy was still in there? What if he’d spent the night? What if, right this very moment, he was spooned up against her soft backside?
A feral growl rose from Pete’s throat, startling him with the viciousness of it. No woman had ever made him growl. He left that type of behavior to his brother, Sam, who was more animal than man.
Now Gil, he was the type of man Cassidy professed to want. A suit, serious, a mover and shaker. A great guy, his brother Gil. So what would Gil do?
He’d be noble for sure, Pete decided. Gil would wait and see if she did have company, and if so, he’d give them privacy.
That thought was so repugnant, Pete started shaking.
To hell with it. His fist rapped sharply on Cassidy’s glass door.
A second later, her bedroom curtain moved and Cassidy peered out. “Pete?” she groused in a sleep-froggy voice. “What are you doing?”