“He must have,” Cassie told her. “I left it under the desk in a bag with Saige’s name on it and it was gone when I got in the next morning.”
“So you weren’t here when he came in?” the other woman asked, sounding disappointed.
“No, I leave at two on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then I’m back at seven for Soc & Study,” she explained, referring to the teen study group that ran Monday through Friday nights.
Cassie was happy to supervise two nights a week and would have done more if required, because she understood how important it was for students to have a place to escape from the stress and drama of their homes. As a teen with three younger siblings and a short-tempered stepfather, she’d spent as much time as possible at the library. But of course she didn’t mention that to Ellen, because she never told anyone about her past, and especially not about Ray.
In an effort to shift the direction of her own thoughts, she said, “Is there anything I can help you find today?”
“I’m just here to pick up a few travel books for Mabel Strauss,” Ellen explained. “She hasn’t left her own home in more than three years, but she still seems to find joy in planning trips that she’s never going to take.”
“What’s her destination this time?” Cassie asked.
“Japan.”
She smiled. “Well, if you’re going to dream, dream big, right?”
“Absolutely,” Ellen agreed. “Although, in Mabel’s case, I think she’s just going alphabetically now. It was Italy last week and India the week before that.”
“Then you probably don’t need me to steer you in the right direction,” Cassie noted.
The older woman shook her head. “Thanks, but I know exactly where I’m going.”
* * *
Several hours later, Cassie wished she wasn’t going anywhere. After a busy day, she just wanted to go home, put her feet up and pet her cats. She considered canceling her plans with Darius, but she knew that she’d have to answer to Stacey if she did. She also knew that if she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone with her cats, she had to get out and meet new people. Specifically, new men.
Unbidden, an image of Braden Garrett formed in her mind. Okay—he was new and she’d met him without leaving the safe haven of the library, but a man who’d lost his first wife in a tragic accident wasn’t a good bet for a woman who’d vowed not to be anyone’s second choice ever again.
She hadn’t dated much since she’d given Joel back his ring. Her former fiancé hadn’t just broken her heart, he’d made her question her own judgment. She’d been so wrong about him. Or maybe just so desperate to become a wife and a mother that she’d failed to see the warning signs. She’d fallen for a man who was all wrong for her because she didn’t want to be alone.
That realization had taken her aback. For the first ten years of her life, her Army Ranger father had been away more than he’d been home, and her mother—unable to tolerate being alone—had frequently sought out other male companionship. Then her father had been killed overseas and her mother had dated several other men before she’d met and exchanged vows with Ray Houston.
Their marriage had been a volatile one. Naomi was a former beauty queen who basked in the adoration of others; Raymond was proud to show off his beautiful wife and prone to fits of jealousy if she went anywhere without him. Even as a kid, Cassie had decided she’d rather be alone than be anyone’s emotional—and sometimes physical—punching bag, and she’d vowed to herself that she wouldn’t ever be like her mother, so desperate for a man’s attention that she’d put up with his mercurial moods and fiery temper.
For the most part, she was happy on her own and with her life. She had a great job, wonderful friends, and she was content with her own company and the occasional affectionate cuddle with her cats. And then Braden Garrett had walked into the library with his daughter.
So really, it was Braden’s fault that she’d agreed to go out with Darius. Because he stirred up all kinds of feelings she’d thought were deeply buried, she’d decided those feelings were a sign that she was ready to start dating again. Because after more than two years on her own, she realized that she wasn’t ready to give up. She wanted to fall all the way in love. She wanted to get married and have a family. And while she wasn’t all starry-eyed and weak-kneed at the prospect of dinner with Stacey’s new neighbor, she wasn’t ready to write him off just yet, either.
So she brushed her hair, dabbed some gloss on her lips, spritzed on her perfume and headed out, determined to focus on Darius Richmond and forget about Braden Garrett.
Except that as soon as she walked through the front door of Valentino’s, she found herself face-to-face with the man she was trying to forget.
* * *
“Hello, Cassie.”
She actually halted in mid-stride as the low timbre of his voice made the nerves in her belly quiver. “Mr. Garrett—hi.”
He smiled, and her heart started beating double-time. “Braden,” he reminded her.
“I...um... What are you doing here?” Her cheeks burned as she stammered out the question. She never stammered, but finding him here—immediately after she’d vowed to put him out of her mind—had her completely flustered.
“Picking up dinner.” He held up the take-out bag he carried. “And you?”
“I’m...um...meeting someone.” And she was still stammering, she realized, with no small amount of chagrin.
“A date?” Braden guessed.
She nodded, unwilling to trust herself to respond in a complete and coherent sentence.
Of course, that was the precise moment that Darius spotted her. He stood up at the table and waved. She lifted a hand in acknowledgment.
“With Darius Richmond?” The question hinted at both disbelief and disapproval.
“You know him?” And look at that—she’d managed three whole words without a pause or a stutter.
“He went to school with my brother, Ryan,” Braden said, in a tone clearly indicating that he and Stacey’s neighbor were not friends. “But last I heard, he was living in San Diego.”
“He recently moved back to Charisma,” she said, repeating what she’d been told.
“How long have you been dating him?”
“I’m not... I mean, this is our first date. And possibly our last, if I keep him waiting much longer.” She glanced at the silver bangle watch on her wrist, resisting the urge to squirm beneath Braden’s narrow-eyed scrutiny. She had no reason to feel guilty about having dinner with a man. “I was supposed to meet him at seven and it’s already ten after.”
“He knows you’re here,” Braden pointed out. “It’s not as if he’s sitting there, worrying that you’ve stood him up. Although, if that’s what you want to do, I’d be happy to share my penne with sausage and peppers.”
“Isn’t your daughter waiting for her dinner?” she asked, relieved that she was now managing to uphold her end of the conversation.
But he shook his head. “I worked late trying to catch up after four days away from the office, so she ate with my parents.”
“Your mom mentioned that you’d both been under the weather,” she noted.
“Saige had the worst of it,” he said. “But we’re both fully recovered now.”
“That’s good,” she said.
He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end, he only said, “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Thanks,” Cassie said. “You, too.”
* * *
Braden forced himself to walk out of the restaurant and drive home, when he really wanted to take his food into the dining room to chaperone Cassie on her date. Unfortunately, he suspected that kind of behavior might edge a little too close to stalking, even if he only wanted to protect her from the womanizing creep.
Because, yeah, he knew
Darius Richmond, and he knew the guy had a reputation for using and discarding women. And, yeah, it bothered him that Cassie was on a date with the other man.
Or maybe he was jealous. As uncomfortable as it was to admit, he knew that his feelings were possibly a result of the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head. Cassie’s unwillingness to explore the attraction between them had dented his pride. Discovering that she was on a date with someone else was another unexpected blow, because it proved that she wasn’t opposed to dating in general but to dating Braden in particular.
He couldn’t figure it out. He knew there was something between them—a definite change in the atmosphere whenever they were in close proximity. What he didn’t know was why she was determined to ignore it.
She was great with kids, so he didn’t think she was put off by the fact that he had a child. Except that liking children in general was undoubtedly different than dating a guy with a child, and if she had any reservations about that, then she definitely wasn’t the right woman for him.
Not that he was looking for “the right woman”—but he wouldn’t object to spending time with a woman who was attractive and smart and interested in him. And the only way that was going to happen was if he managed to forget about his attraction to Cassie.
Which meant that he should take a page out of the librarian’s book—figuratively speaking—and look for another woman to fulfill his requirement.
The problem was, he didn’t want anyone but Cassie.
* * *
Cassie was tidying up the toys in the children’s area late Saturday morning when Braden and Saige came into the library. The little girl made a beeline for the train table, where two little boys were already playing. Aside from issuing a firm caution to his daughter to share, Braden seemed content to let her do her own thing. Then he lowered himself onto a plastic stool where he could keep an eye on Saige and near where Cassie was sorting the pieces of several wooden puzzles that had been jumbled together.
“So...how was your date last night?” he asked her.
She continued to sort while she considered her response. “It was an experience,” she finally decided.
“That doesn’t sound like a rousing endorsement of Darius Richmond.”
“Do you really want to hear all of the details?”
“Only if the details are that you had a lousy time and were home by nine o’clock,” he told her.
She felt a smile tug at her lips. “Sorry—I wasn’t home by nine o’clock.” She put three puzzle pieces together. “It was after nine before I left the restaurant and probably closer to nine twenty before I got home.”
He smiled. “Nine twenty, huh?”
She nodded.
“Alone?”
She lifted a brow. “I can’t believe you just asked me that question.”
“A question you haven’t answered,” he pointed out.
“Yes,” she said. “Alone. As I told you last night—it was a first date.”
“And you never invite a guy home after a first date?”
“No,” she confirmed. “And why don’t you like Darius?”
“Because he’s a player,” Braden said simply.
“So why didn’t you tell me that last night?”
“I was tempted to. But if I’d said anything uncomplimentary about the man, you might have thought I was trying to sabotage your date, and I was confident that you’d figure it out quickly enough yourself.”
“I knew within the first five minutes that it would be a first and last date,” she admitted.
“What did he do?”
“When I got to the table, he told me that he’d ordered a glass of wine for me—a California chardonnay that he assured me I would enjoy. Which maybe I shouldn’t fault him for, because he doesn’t know me so how could he know that I generally prefer red wine over white? And maybe I wouldn’t have minded so much if he was having a glass of the chardonnay, too, but he was drinking beer.”
“You don’t like guys who drink beer?” he guessed.
“I don’t like guys who assume that women don’t drink beer,” she told him.
He nodded. “So noted.”
“And when the waitress came to tell us about the daily specials, his gaze kept slipping from her face to her chest.”
“You should have walked out then,” he told her.
“Probably,” she agreed. “Then he ordered calamari as an appetizer for us to share. And I hate squid.”
“But again, he didn’t ask you,” Braden guessed, glancing over at the train table to check on his daughter.
“Not only did he not ask—he ignored my protests, as if he knew what I wanted more than I did.
“But still, I was hopeful that the evening could be salvaged,” she admitted. “Because Valentino’s does the most amazing three-cheese tortellini in a tomato cream sauce. And when I gave my order to the waitress—vetoing his suggestion of the veal Marsala—he suggested, with a blatantly lewd wink, that I would have to follow my meal with some intense physical activity to burn off all of the calories in the entrée.”
Braden’s gaze narrowed. “Is that when you walked out?”
“No,” she denied. “I ordered the tortellini—with garlic bread—and I ate every single bite.”
He chuckled. “Good for you.”
“Then I had cheesecake for dessert, put money on the table for my meal and said good-night. And he seemed genuinely baffled to discover that I didn’t intend to go home with him.” She shook her head. “I mean, it was obvious early on that the date was a disaster, and yet he still thought I’d sleep with him?”
“When it comes to sex, men are eternally optimistic creatures.”
“He was more delusional than optimistic if he believed for even two seconds that I would get naked with him after he counted the calories of every bite I put in my mouth.”
“Note to self—never comment on a woman’s food choices.”
“I’m sure you didn’t need to be told that.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “But obviously I’m doing something wrong, because you shot me down when I asked you to go out with me.”
“You never actually asked me out,” she said.
He frowned at that. “I’m sure I did.”
She shook her head. “You only asked what we should do about the chemistry between us.”
“And you said the chemistry would fizzle,” he said, apparently remembering that part of the conversation.
She nodded.
“But it hasn’t,” he noted.
She kept her focus on the puzzles she was assembling.
“So what do you propose we do now?”
“Right now, I’m trying to figure out how to tell Stacey that last night’s date was a complete bust,” she admitted.
“You could tell her you met someone that you like more,” he suggested.
She finally looked up to find his gaze on her. “I do like you,” she admitted. “But you’re a widower with a child.”
He frowned. “Which part of that equation is a problem for you?”
“It doesn’t really matter which part, does it?” she said, sincerely regretful.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’d still like to know.”
Thankfully, before he could question her further, Saige came running over with a train clenched in each fist.
“Choo-choo,” she said, in a demand for her daddy to play with her.
And Cassie took advantage of the opportunity to escape.
Chapter Six
She wasn’t proud of the way she’d ended her conversation with Braden, but she’d done what she needed to do. If she tried to explain her reasons and her feelings, he might try to change her mind. And there was a part of her—the hug
e empty space in her heart—that wished he would.
She left the library early that afternoon and headed over to Serenity Gardens. When she arrived at the residence, she saw that a group of women of various shapes and sizes was participating in some kind of dance class in the front courtyard. Some were in sweats and others in spandex, and while they didn’t seem to be particularly well choreographed, they all looked like they were having a good time.
“Geriatric Jazzercise,” a familiar male voice said from behind her.
Cassie choked on a laugh as she turned to Jerry. “That’s not really what they call it?”
He held up a hand as if taking an oath. “It really is.”
“Well, exercise is important at any age,” she acknowledged. “Unfortunately, I can’t imagine Irene participating in something like this.”
“Can’t you?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “Check out the woman in the striped purple top.”
Cassie looked more closely at the group, her eyes widening when they zeroed in on and finally recognized the former librarian. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
“You could say you’ll have a cup of coffee with me,” Jerry told her. “As I was told, in clear and unequivocal terms, that the jazzercise class is for women only.”
“I’d be happy to have coffee with you,” Cassie said, falling into step beside Jerry as he headed back toward the building.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” he asked, indicating the hardback in her hand. “A new book for Irene?”
She nodded. “One of the advantages of being head librarian—I get dibs on the new releases when they come in.”
“My name’s on the waiting list for that one,” he admitted.
“Irene’s a fast reader—maybe she’ll let you borrow it when she’s done.”
“I’m a fast reader, too,” he told her. “Maybe I could give it to Irene when I’m done.”
“That would work,” she agreed.
Peggy’s Bakery and Coffee Shop, on the ground floor of the residence, offered a variety of hot and cold beverages and baked goods, and the air was permeated with the mouthwatering scents of coffee and chocolate.
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