by Linda Seed
“Let me just try this one,” she said.
Five minutes later, Cassie was standing in front of the mirror in a confection of fuchsia satin and Lacy was giving her a long, slow whistle.
“That’s the one,” Lacy said. “That’s the dress.”
“Are you sure?” Cassie turned to one side and then the other, inspecting her reflection.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fabulous. Plus, it’s the one you originally picked out for yourself. Why are you waffling?”
“I’m not waffling.” But she was. She was waffling.
Lacy was right, the dress was fabulous. But it was so flirty. So pink. So flouncy. So emphatically there.
The other thing that was emphatically there was Cassie’s skin. The dress was strapless with a plunging neckline, and the skirt, a ruffly pouf of pink satin, ended at mid-thigh.
“You don’t think it’s too slutty?” Cassie asked.
“It’s fun. It’s young. You’ve got great legs, and it shows them off. It’s perfect with your coloring.”
“You didn’t answer the question about whether it’s too slutty,” Cassie reminded her.
“It’s exactly the right amount of slutty.”
Cassie spun around to face Lacy. “Also …”
“What?”
“Did I mention that Brian is coming?”
“To the wedding?”
“Yeah. He’s my plus-one.”
“Oh.” Lacy looked thoughtful. “So, we have to reevaluate the dress in light of the question of whether you want to come on to him or not.”
“You see? This is why I’m asking you for advice and not Whitney or Jess. You get it. You get the exact dynamic. Is the dress the right amount of slutty in light of the fact that Brian will be there?”
Lacy’s eyebrows rose, and she sat back on the bed, propping herself up on her arms. “That depends on your intentions. Are you interested in him?”
Was she? Cassie hadn’t had time to think about that while she’d been frantically trying to finish the cake. She’d had a laser-like focus on her work, and she’d only thought of Brian in terms of how helpful he’d been.
But now she was going to go out with him. Yes, he’d said it was just because he wanted to try the cake. And maybe that was true. Nonetheless, they’d be dressed up. Eating. Maybe even dancing.
It sort of seemed like a date.
“He’s cute,” Cassie offered, though it didn’t directly answer the question.
“He’s very cute, in a geeky smart-boy kind of way.”
“Geeky smart boys can be hot,” Cassie observed.
“They really can.”
“Plus, he was so nice. About the cake, I mean. And the fact that I illegally set up shop in his mother’s house. He even bought ingredients for me.”
She liked him, she had to admit. She’d liked him when he was just a funny guy on YouTube, and now, in person, she liked him even more. What harm would there be in seeing where things went? What was the downside in having fun and letting things develop however they developed?
“Of course,” Lacy said, “you do have to take into account the power imbalance. The fact that he could get you fired with one phone call does affect the whole dynamic.”
It did. But he’d shown no indication yet that he intended to take advantage of that.
He deserved the benefit of the doubt.
Plus, cute.
Cassie finally answered Lacy’s question. “If something should happen between us, either at the wedding or as a result of it, that probably wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
Lacy nodded. “Then this is the dress. Now, let’s talk accessories.”
Brian had offered to pick Cassie up for the wedding, which made it seem like a real date. Except there was the cake to think of, so her coming to him made more sense.
She had to get to the venue early to set up the cake, so she got to Brian’s house at noon for the two o’clock event.
She was so used to seeing him on YouTube in jeans or shorts and a T-shirt that the sight of him in a suit left her momentarily speechless. The suit was expensive and well-cut, his hair was newly trimmed and combed neatly away from his face, and the layer of stubble she’d seen on him the day before was gone. So were the thick-framed glasses that had given him that oddly appealing nerdy look.
The overall result was that he didn’t look cute anymore.
He looked damned hot.
If she was surprised by his appearance, he seemed positively stunned by hers.
“Wow,” he said.
“Do you like it?” She did a little twirl on his front porch.
“You look even better in that than you did in the towel. Which is saying something.”
Oh, crap. She was blushing. She could feel the heat in her cheeks.
“And,” he said, “that was a really crude remark. Right? I’m sorry. It’s just … the way you look right now has shaved about twenty points off my IQ. Can we start over?”
Cassie grinned at him and walked past him to come into the house. “You don’t have to start over. You’re doing fine.”
Brian told himself to get his shit together.
First, he’d made a crude remark about Cassie. That was bad enough. Now, he was having a hard time focusing on the task of transferring the cake from the house to Cassie’s car. The last thing he needed was to trip and drop the damned thing on the floor.
“Careful. Keep it level,” Cassie said. She was holding one end of the box and he had the other as they walked together across the foyer and toward the front door. Brian had already walked Thor, and he’d put him in the bedroom so the dog wouldn’t get underfoot while they were carrying the cake.
The finished cake was damned heavy, but the weight wasn’t the issue. If they shifted slightly and tipped the cake, it was going to come out of the box smashed on one side. And, by God, if that happened, it wasn’t going to be Brian’s fault.
“Sorry.” He leveled out his side. “Sorry. I’ve got it.”
They went outside and down the front walk, then they carefully slid the box into the back of Cassie’s hatchback.
Once it was in, Brian looked at her, pleased. “We’re home free.”
“Sure,” Cassie said. “Now all we’ve got to do is drive it across town, get the box into the reception hall, and get the cake out of the box without tipping it, dropping it, or letting the top tier collapse onto the table.”
“Okay, so not home free yet,” he said.
Fortunately, they didn’t have far to drive. Cambria was a small town, and nothing was very far from anything else. The wedding and reception were at Cambria Pines Lodge, barely a five-minute drive from Otter Bluff.
Cassie drove well below the speed limit, easing over speed bumps and through intersections. A couple of cars had stacked up behind her, and a Ford Explorer riding her bumper honked.
“Keep your pants on, I’ve got a wedding cake in here!” Cassie yelled out her window.
Brian found that cute, but he didn’t want her to think he was being patronizing, so he hid his grin by looking out the passenger side window.
“Where the hell do they have to be in such a hurry?” Cassie said. “I doubt Ford Explorer guy is on his way to do brain surgery.”
“I think we just got passed by a ninety-year-old pedestrian. With a walker,” Brian added, unable to help himself.
“That’s enough out of you.” But she was grinning, and that made him happy.
Maybe weddings weren’t so bad.
Chapter 9
Cassie felt such a sense of buoyant relief as the ceremony started that she barely heard a word the minister was saying. The cake had gotten to its appointed spot in the reception hall without incident, and the bride had loved it. She’d loved it. Deandra had squealed with happiness, grabbing Cassie in a tight, impulsive hug.
After that the ground beneath her could have been swallowed in a massive earthquake and Cassie wouldn’t have minded.
She’d been valid
ated.
She had the talent, had the skills. She could do this. She could bring her chosen career into being through the sheer force of her will.
It didn’t even matter that the bride and groom were likely to smash her work of art into each other’s faces a couple of hours from now. She’d done what she’d set out to do—what she’d promised to do—and that felt freaking fantastic.
“You’re practically glowing,” Brian whispered to her during a quiet moment in the service, which was being held in the garden at the lodge. They sat on white folding chairs on a manicured lawn, what seemed like a hundred kinds of spring flowers blooming around them.
“My cake looked awesome,” she whispered back to him. “Did you see it? It was fucking flawless.”
“It really was.”
It didn’t even matter that Deandra had paid her a fraction of what a cake like that usually went for. Cassie had accepted the lower price because she was a relative novice. She was unproven. She’d needed this gig to establish her credentials as an experienced wedding baker.
Well, now she had one unqualified success under her belt, and that would lead to more.
Who knew how many people here were planning weddings of their own? Who knew how many clients she might find because of this?
Okay, true, her business was technically illegal at this point, as she didn’t have a license from the health department for her kitchen. Mainly because she didn’t have a kitchen. But those things could be worked out. She would save money, find a space with a kitchen, get the necessary inspections and permits, then maybe expand, hire an assistant, attend bridal shows.…
She was mentally rehearsing her future Food Network show when Brian nudged her. Everyone except Cassie was standing for the bride’s entrance. She jumped up, still imagining her bright and impossibly sweet future.
It was almost like there were two Cassies, Brian thought. The stressed, frantic one he’d gotten to know while she was trying to produce the cake under intense time pressure, and the happy, bubbly one who was currently sitting next to him.
The frantic one had been appealing. But the happy one was downright luminous.
That wasn’t a word he would often use—luminous—but it seemed apt here. The victory of her cake triumph was practically shining out her pores.
Had he thought she was cute before? Such a small word for what she was. Beautiful was closer. But even that didn’t quite hit the mark.
While she watched the bride walk down the aisle, Brian watched Cassie. Flawless ivory skin. Golden blond hair swept up into some kind of complicated bun, with wispy tendrils framing her face. And that dress.
But what really captivated him about her was her smile. It wasn’t just a pretty smile—though it was that—it was mischievous, as though she were thinking something scandalous at any given moment.
That thought made him wonder what the scandalous thing might be, which led him to indulge in any number of happy fantasies.
As the bride passed them, they all turned forward toward the gazebo where the groom and the wedding party waited. From here, Brian had an excellent view of the back of Cassie’s neck and her bare shoulders in the strapless dress. Her skin was right there, close enough for him to touch it.
He didn’t have permission to touch it, but maybe later, when they danced, with the music and the low lighting …
Brian scowled at his own train of thought. When, exactly, had he gotten to be romantic? When had he turned into that kind of wuss?
The minister was talking about love, and the bride and groom were gazing at each other, and women in the crowd were quietly crying into tissues they’d pulled from their purses. So, it wasn’t entirely his fault if he was getting swept up in the thing.
It wasn’t as though a wedding ensured a life of married bliss.
His own parents had taught him not to believe in the fairy tale.
Still. Cassie did look like some kind of Disney Princess—if the Disney movies were R-rated.
Now, that would be something worth watching.
When they got to the reception, the cake was still standing—a development Cassie hadn’t completely taken for granted. The bride was still happy, and the petals on Cassie’s buttercream roses still looked as though they’d come straight from a florist.
Not only that, but Cassie had a check for three hundred dollars tucked into her purse.
She was home free.
“God, yes,” she said when Brian offered her a flute of champagne. They hadn’t taken their seats yet and were standing beside a large floral arrangement near the bar. “I earned this.”
“You sure did.” Brian grinned at her. “Did you get pictures of the cake?”
“Only about a thousand of them. Plus, Deandra has promised to give me some from her photographer. This was a complete success.” She felt close to levitation, she was so elated with what she’d accomplished.
“Thor might have to admit otherwise,” he said.
She laughed—a carefree guffaw that, under other circumstances, she might have worried was unladylike. “The challenge just made the victory sweeter.”
“Good. I’ll tell him you’re not mad at him.”
“He’s too cute to be mad at.” The dog was adorable—that furry, innocent face—but in truth, Cassie doubted she could be mad at anyone right now, even if she gave it her best effort.
“Here’s to a gorgeous cake.” Brian raised his glass, and she clinked it to hers.
“Here’s to you,” Cassie said. “I mean it, Brian. You could have thrown me out of Otter Bluff and gotten me fired with one phone call. You don’t even know me, and you let me take over your kitchen. Seriously, I could not have done this without you.” She reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
“I didn’t know you then, but I do now, and I think I made a good call,” he said.
Brian had been trying to keep himself in check, but now he had alcohol in his hand, and that was going to make it harder.
Even if she hadn’t kissed him.
Yes, it was just a kiss on the cheek. A thank-you kiss. The kind of kiss you’d give your brother. But he hadn’t reacted to it like her brother. He’d reacted to it like a guy who was starting to get loopy for a beautiful woman.
He couldn’t afford to get loopy. He had a lot on his mind: a house that needed serious work, a career that required his constant attention, and a problematic mother who was almost certainly going to be on his ass now more than ever, just because he’d been forced to ask her for a favor.
All that, and his best friend had recently moved away.
He had shit to deal with, and he couldn’t get all caught up with a woman, even if the woman smelled good and inexplicably—at least for the moment—made him feel like all of his problems had somehow magically disappeared.
Her lips were soft on his cheek, and her perfume lingered in the air for just a moment after she’d pulled away from him.
And there was the dress. And the champagne.
“Everybody take your seats so your meal service can begin,” the DJ said from his station at the other side of the room.
“Shall we?” Brian swept an arm in front of him, gesturing for Cassie to precede him.
God, Brian looked good. Also, who knew that when you put a nice suit on him, he transformed from this goofy guy into a gentleman with impeccable manners and a smooth way with women?
Maybe she was imagining that. Maybe it was the romantic music, or the champagne, or the high she was riding due to her cake triumph. Whatever it was, she found herself scooting her chair a little closer to his. She also found herself openly flirting, laughing too loud at his jokes, and taking any opportunity to lay her hand on his arm.
Cassie heard her cell phone buzz in her purse, and she pulled it out to find a text message from Lacy. She checked it discreetly, keeping the phone below the level of the table for the benefit of the other eight people—random friends and relatives of Deandra—who were sitting with them.
How’s the reception going? Was the cake okay?
Cassie texted her response—The cake is fabulous, thank you very much—and attached a photo as proof.
Oh, my God. You’re an artist! Lacy texted back with a string of emoticons to indicate enthusiasm.
I am. I really am.
And how are things with Brian?
“Lacy wants to know how you’re doing,” Cassie told Brian. She leaned in next to him, took a selfie of the two of them, and sent it to Lacy.
Zowie. He cleans up really well, Lacy answered.
Keep your eyes off of him, I saw him first.
Cassie sent the text and slipped her phone back into her purse before Brian could catch a glimpse of what she’d written.
Brian had known they might dance at the reception, and if they did, he might develop a thing for Cassie even more than he already had.
Plus, he didn’t really know how to dance.
So, when the time came, he was more than a little nervous about it.
“Do you want to?” Cassie asked when the DJ had invited the guests to take the dance floor and many of the other occupants of their table were out there spinning each other around.
As far as he was concerned, he had already lost at least one point by waiting long enough that Cassie had been forced to be the asker. Nothing to do about that now—the proverbial ship had sailed. But now he was hesitating, and that threatened to make it even worse—a loss of two points, maybe, or even three.
He got up from his seat, maybe a little too fast. “Of course. Yes. We should … Right. Let’s dance.”
It wasn’t like Brian to be tongue-tied. After all, he spoke on camera for a living. But that was different. When he’d had a partner, he’d done the show with Ike. If Ike had been a long-legged, beautiful blond, he suspected he’d have had trouble with that, too.