Tempting Fate (The Blake Boys Book 9)

by Rhonda Laurel

  “I’m amazed at your maturity. I know your instincts must be screaming for her to be out of harm’s way.”

  “Are you kidding me? I get brownie points with my wife for being so understanding.” J.J. flashed a cheesy grin.

  Channing pulled up to J.J.’s house a half hour later. “Do you mind if I come in and say hi to Jack and Sam?” He didn’t want to intrude on them.

  “Of course not. Jack loves getting visits from his Uncle C.J.”

  As soon as Channing entered the house, he took Jack into his arms. The baby cooed in response to his uncle’s kisses. “Jack, you’re getting so big. Did you gain a pound since I saw you the other day?”

  “He loves to eat, just like his father,” Sam said as she gave J.J. a kiss. “Channing, won’t you stay for dinner? I made chicken parmesan.”

  Channing took a good whiff. “It smells delicious but I have an appointment to eat some major crow.”

  She patted his shoulder. “I heard about that incident with Cassidy and Emma. I hope you can get things straightened out.”

  Channing shot his brother a look.

  “What?” J.J. shrugged. “I tell Samantha Jane everything.”

  “Stay for dinner. Maybe we can come up with something to get you back in Cassidy’s good graces.”

  * * *

  After dinner with J.J. and Sam, Channing felt much better. He told Sam he contemplated asking her to find out where Cassidy had been during the time she dropped out of sight. She pointed out that people don’t disappear from pretty good lives unless they had a good reason to do so.

  Sam suggested he give Cassidy some time to process it all. They hadn’t even dated, and they were already dealing with an issue of trust. Investigating her would surely send her running for the hills if she ever found out.

  Sam asked him why he liked her so much, and he launched into a tirade. Cassidy was beautiful, intelligent and had a good sense of humor, but she was also generous and philosophical. She always rooted for the underdog, even if she took flak for it. Her ideals were unwavering, and he respected that. He’d had enough debates with her to know that once she stuck with a position, a stick of dynamite couldn’t move her, but she was rational and willing to hear the other side of an argument. She loved art and found beauty in things that most people would overlook. He loved how she saw the world.

  He didn’t mean to go on about her the way he did. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine he’d drunk. When he finally came up for air, he noticed the goofy looks on Sam and J.J.’s faces. Sensing some mushy speech coming, he decided to go. He’d done enough sharing for one evening. Channing kissed a sleeping Jack good night, and J.J. walked him to the door. J.J. was still smiling.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What is it?” Channing said as he opened his car door.

  “You’re not fourteen anymore.”

  “I haven’t been fourteen for over a decade.”

  “No, I mean I think for a long time you’ve been frozen at a certain age in my mind. Now you’re all grown up—a lawyer, of all things—working at the company with me and postulating about love and relationships. You’re not my snot-nosed baby brother anymore that needs looking out for. I’m proud of you.” He leaned against the doorframe.

  Channing splayed his hands on the roof of the car. “Nah, I’ll always need your help. Just like Tyler will always be the wild card that always comes through in the end. Tate is the sensitive one who always knows how to make Mama smile, and Seth is the one who makes everyone feel better. And you’re the glue that keeps us all together. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Cassidy is a lucky woman.”

  “You tell her that if I ever get her to speak to me again.”

  “You will. Just use that natural charm you have, and if that doesn’t work, use something out of Daddy’s playbook.”

  Channing got in the car and waved to his brother. He drove down the road to the guesthouse. Maybe it was time to show Cassidy he was serious. Flowers were good, but there was something else he could send her that he knew she’d like. And he knew just where to get it.

  * * *

  It was day thirteen of Channing’s floral apology, and Cassidy was becoming the envy of every woman in the law firm. Each morning a beautiful arrangement greeted her with a heartfelt card at the receptionist’s desk when she arrived for work. Who would be crazy enough to threaten to send flowers until she was willing to answer his call? Her officemate Sally told her that it was the most romantic and crazy thing she’d ever seen.

  But today was different. In addition to a bouquet, a courier awaited her with a huge box. He asked for her signature, handed over an envelope with the embossed letters BW on it, and told her she should get it insured as soon as possible. Insured? What on earth did he do?

  The box was so heavy she had to get two of the facilities guys to lug it into her office. She was curious but didn’t want to seem too anxious, so she decided to open it after lunch. But the ladies in the office weren’t having that. The package had also attracted the curiosity of two partners in the firm. A crowd stood at her door, waiting for the unveiling. Cassidy carefully picked at the top lid of the box, became frustrated, and went at it with the scissors. When she tore the packaging away she found a beautiful abstract painting from her favorite artist that was featured in the Boyd-Wheaton Art Gallery. The artist, T.J. Johansson, was known for her broad brushstrokes and use of color. While the group oohed and ahhed, Cassidy took a peek at the contents of the envelope. It was the bill of sale. The courier was right. She did need to have it insured, like yesterday.

  Grayson Pritchard, one of the senior partners barged into her office. This man was rarely seen in the building, let alone on the fifteenth floor with the minions. She hoped she wasn’t getting fired for distracting her co-workers. She was relieved when two men came in behind him, set the painting on an easel, and positioned it in the corner of the room.

  “I heard there was another T.J. Johansson in the firm. You have very good taste, Ms. Shaw. I have a painting from this artist hanging in my office.”

  “Thanks. She’s one of my favorites too.” She wouldn’t know because she’d never been anywhere near his office and didn’t think she’d see it for the next ten years.

  “Why don’t you stop by my office this afternoon? I would love to show it to you.”

  “Thanks, I would like that.”

  The onlookers filed out of the office. Finally she could gaze at her present in private.

  “That man hasn’t come down here in the two years I’ve worked here,” her officemate Sally squealed. “Who knew he was such an art enthusiast.”

  “Yeah, who knew.” Cassidy looked at the note Channing had attached.

  I thought this would look nice in your office.

  Enjoy,

  Channing

  “Whoever this guy is, I think he earned a return phone call. I’d be willing to let him get to second base with me, too.”

  * * *

  Channing was looking forward to hanging out with Bo this evening. His friend was working on his culinary skills and was in charge of the meal while he got the libations. Tonight they were going to have a quiet guy’s night in while trading dating woes. He thought it was nice that Bo was coming out of his shy shell and stretching his wings.

  “Hi, George.” Channing juggled the bags and nodded at the doorman who held the door open for him. He’d been there so many times they didn’t bother asking him to sign in anymore. George hit the elevator button for him and wished him a good evening. The trek to the seventh floor was fairly quick, and Channing stepped out into the spacious art deco hallway and made a right. It was hard to believe there were only four units on the entire floor.

  Bo said he rarely saw his neighbors, and the unit across from his was still vacant. He even tried to talk Channing into buying it, but he declined. He liked getting up in the morning and seeing his mama’s garden, the trees, and the horses. He dug into his j
eans pocket and let himself in with the key Bo had given him. Whatever Bo was cooking smelled delicious. He followed the smell into the kitchen.

  “Smells good in here.”

  “Did you get the cabernet sauvignon?” Bo looked up from seasoning the steaks.

  “Yes, in addition to ten other things.” He pulled bottles out of the bags.

  “Good. I need it for my glaze.” Bo reached for the bottle.

  Channing squinted at him. “How are the new contacts working out?”

  “I’m getting used to them. Today Christine in accounting told me I had bedroom eyes.” He grinned.

  “That reminds me, I think I need to file a sexual harassment complaint. Dinah in acquisitions gets so close in the elevator we could be Siamese twins.” Channing uncorked a bottle of the cabernet and poured himself and Bo a glass.

  “I spent the last Christmas party dodging one of her magic fingers massages. The woman is relentless when she’s drunk.” Bo took the glass.

  “She’s no slouch when she’s sober.” Channing had narrowly missed getting a hand job from her the other day. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Steak au poivre. Michelle made it on her show last week, so I gave her a call. She was so excited to give me the recipe until she found out I was cooking it for you.” He laughed.

  “The ladies have been on an active hunt to find you a woman. Well, any woman who isn’t Morgan’s cousin Charisma.” Channing popped a cherry tomato in his mouth.

  “I know. Their hearts are in the right place. I told her I was practicing until I met the right woman.” Bo trimmed the asparagus. “So how goes the woman dilemma?”

  “Cassidy sent me a thank you text for the painting and Emma won’t stop calling.” Channing shook his head.

  “That’s progress.”

  “Yes, it is.” He clinked glasses with Bo.

  “What’s Emma’s sudden urgency to be in a relationship with you?”

  His jaw ticked. He was still angry about her surprise appearance at the engagement party. “I have no idea.”

  “Didn’t you learn anything in Vegas?”

  “Yeah, I learned that dollar bills chafe when someone’s cramming them down your pants.”

  Bo shook his head. “I meant about seizing the moment and passionate pursuits. You gave a really good speech about romance that night we were in the hotel bar.”

  “I’d had like seven martinis.” Channing ran a hand over his face.

  “True, but you made a good point. You said it didn’t hurt to take a page out your brothers’ playbooks. When you find a good woman, don’t let her go. So what are you going to do about Cassidy?”

  That was a really good question. A zillion bouquets of flowers and a painting had gotten him nothing more than a thank-you text.

  “I’m going to DC to have a face to face with her. She can’t avoid me if I stake out her apartment building.”

  “That’s a good Blake. Let’s eat.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Channing had been in DC a day and a half and still hadn’t managed to find her. He reached out to mutual friends, and it was Hannah who proved to be the most helpful. Hannah was all too willing to give him a rundown of Cassidy’s schedule and was pretty sure she’d be home around five.

  By seven o’clock he figured she’d had enough time to come home and unwind. Channing stood outside Cassidy’s door poised to knock. He could hear jazz music coming from inside. Now that he was here he didn’t know what to say, so he figured he’d wing it.

  He rapped lightly on the door.

  “Who is it?” Cassidy answered a minute later.

  “It’s Channing Blake.”

  “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  She wasn’t being cute. She sounded mad as a rattlesnake. This was going to be harder than he’d expected.

  “You sent me a thank you text the other day?”

  “Nope. Bells still aren’t ringing.”

  “Really? I know you remember me. I was the tall, dark, and handsome cowboy with the great smile that you had an embarrassing crush on all through law school? You would undress me with your eyes and check out my ass when I walked by, but you thought I didn’t notice. It was rumored that you bought twelve copies of that Legal Briefs pin up calendar I posed for and pasted my picture on each month. I have a list of other things you used to do to objectify me—I’m sure your neighbors would love to hear about it.”

  The door flew open. “What are you doing here?”

  Channing took a deep breath when her loosely tied robe fell open. How the hell was he supposed to answer her question while she was standing there in a thin cotton tank top and a pair of men’s boxer shorts? Her nipples looked like they were fighting their way through the material.

  “You wouldn’t answer my calls.”

  “As you stated, I sent you a thank-you text for the painting.”

  “So you liked it?”

  “Yes. It’s the most exquisite thing anyone’s ever given me.”

  “Can you let me in?”

  “That depends. Are you going to tell the truth or lie to me about that woman who showed up at the party?”

  “I promise, only the truth.” He peeked his head into the apartment and saw it was overrun with floral arrangements. “I see you got the flowers.”

  “Did you send those?” She gave him a sarcastic look.

  “How many men send you flowers?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Several, and they’re all single.”

  “I bet they’re not as handsome as me.” He tapped his fingers on the door.

  “You’re really full of yourself.”

  He flashed a cheesy grin. “Family curse.”

  “Does being a lying jerk run in the family too?”

  “Emma is not my girlfriend, and I didn’t invite her to DC. She showed up on her own accord. I wouldn’t do that to you, or any woman for that matter. Can you please let me in?”

  She pulled the door open wide enough for him to enter, but he took the opportunity to brush up against her anyway. She looked up at him in an attempt to scowl, but it came across as a sultry, pouty invitation to kiss her. He didn’t. She herded him into the living room, then padded into the kitchen and got him a beer, but he noticed she’d gotten a fruit juice for herself.

  “A woman doesn’t travel that far across the country to track down a friend,” she said.

  He shook his head. “She was in New York and decided it would be fun to surprise me.”

  “Oh, great. You have a stalker.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Woman, now you listen to me. I can only apologize so much for someone else’s actions. Before she showed up we were definitely making progress.”

  “That was harmless flirting, and I’d had too much champagne.”

  “The hell you did. You wanted me to kiss you.”

  “Still as arrogant and presumptive as the day we met.”

  He came closer. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll leave.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Channing took her into his arms and laid one on her. His heart thudded as he gazed upon the thin material of her tank top, which looked as if it were clinging to her breasts for dear life. Her nipples were hard, begging him to suck them. He pulled down the straps and began to suck hard, hungry for the taste of this woman. He flicked his tongue back and forth over her nipple.

  “Wait.” She forced his head up to look at her. “We haven’t even been on a proper date.”

  Channing shook the lust out of eyes. “Yes, of course. I mean, I’d love to—”

  “Quit while you’re ahead. Are you being honest with me about Emma?” She bit her lip.

  “Yes. I’m not that kind of guy.” He pulled bra strap back on her shoulder and adjusted her robe.

  “Good.” She ran her hand through her hair. “You can pick me up tomorrow at noon for our date.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Channing smiled and stole a quick kiss before she ki
cked him out.

  * * *

  Cassidy woke early to get ready for the date. She nibbled on some toast as she cleaned up the apartment. She was just about to vacuum when she heard the knock on the door. He’d arrived an hour ahead of time.

  “You’re early.” Cassidy squinted at him.

  He smiled. “I know. I didn’t want to give you a chance to make up some lame excuse or move out of state.”

  “I knew you would think that, so I got ready as soon as I woke up this morning. Ha!” Cassidy opened the door to reveal she was fully dressed.

  Channing laughed. “What would you like to do today?”

  “I haven’t been to the museums in a while.” She bit her lip. “There’s a new exhibit at the Freer Gallery of Art. Or did you have something more exciting in mind?”

  “Sounds like fun. How about we make a day of it and get tickets for the hop off, hop on shuttle?”

  Her eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea.”

  After living in DC for many years, doing the tour of the nation’s capital still gave her goose bumps. Cassidy never hid her enthusiasm for the fantastic architecture and history that coursed through the streets. Channing circled all the stops he wanted to make on the map the driver gave them. It was nice to see they liked the same things. The Washington Monument, Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, those were some of her favorite spots. She’d often come and sit on the steps in the early evening as the sun was setting. She wondered what it would be like to take a dip in the huge reflecting pool. She knew it was kind of corny, but a replica of the Declaration of Independence hung on the wall in her bathroom. It felt kind of liberating to sit on the toilet and contemplate freedom.

  Channing slowed his pace to match her stride. The man had a good six inches on her. He’d ask how she was feeling every ten minutes, but she was thankful that he cared about how she felt. He held her hand, and it made her feel like a teenager. When she needed a break, they stopped at a bench near the United States Botanical Garden.

  She perused the brochure. “So what do you know about gardens?”