by M. L. Guida
Lilly tossed her head back, dark curls tumbling down her back, and laughed. “Good huh?” She gave her a teasing grin. “God, I haven’t seen you blush this bad since we went to see Bridesmaid last month.”
Her hands clammy, Cassandra stammered, “The opening scene—she screwed him ten different ways.” She wadded up the tissue and threw it into the trashcan. What would it be like trying those positions with dream man?
“Just like at the movies, your face is beet-red again.”
Cassandra braided a strand of her hair. “I know. I can’t help it.”
“God, Cassie everybody has erotic dreams, even virgins.”
Cassandra hated being the only who hadn’t slept with a man yet. Every time, she got close, she froze. Luke had lost patience with her, accusing of her being frigid so he found solace into the arms of another woman. Maybe she was frigid. Maybe the dream man was an excuse for her not to get close to men. She got out of bed. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”
“Okay, we won’t talk about your dream.” Lilly cocked an eyebrow and gave Cassandra her I’m-going-to-cross-examine-you look. “You know he’s not real. You’ve got to start dating real guys, not pine for imaginary ones.”
“You mean like Luke?”
“Okay, Luke was a player. I warned you about him.”
“I know you did. It’s that it…still hurts.” At Diane’s birthday party about a month ago she couldn’t find Luke. Drinking too much wine, she stumbled into what she thought was a bathroom, only to discover Luke in bed with Diane.
“Cassandra, not every guy is Luke Kennedy. Some guys are faithful.”
“Maybe if I would have slept with him, he would have stayed.”
Lilly laughed. “Ah, honey. Don’t kid yourself. You were a challenge and when he couldn’t get you, he went on to his next victim.”
Cassandra shrugged as she headed toward her suitcase. She yanked out her red Minnie Mouse sweater, workout bra and long underwear. Luke had blamed her, telling her if she’d been more responsive, he would have stayed. Stunned, she ran out of the room, found the bathroom and promptly got sick. Luckily, Lilly had been staying with friends in a nearby hotel and came and got her. Luke didn’t have the decency to see her home safety.
“Enough about Luke,” Lilly said. “Tell me did you and dream man do it at Walter Byron Park?” She stared. “Well, did you?”
Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped into her long underwear and pulled them midway up her leg. “Lilly.”
The man had reduced her to an out-of-control sauna. She was surprised their scorching heat hadn’t melted the snow into a puddle.
Lilly laughed. “Looking at your face, yeah, you did.”
Cassandra jerked her long underwear up her left leg. “Shut up.”
Lilly crossed her legs. “Each time we come up to Frisco, we go to that park. I swear you’re obsessed with it.”
“Maybe.” Cassandra pulled her hair into a ponytail. Outside the frosted window, snow drifted onto the quiet street and aspen and pine trees shimmered in the morning sun. “Frisco’s beautiful in the winter. I love it up here.”
“Okaaay.” Lilly stood and walked to her suitcase. She shook her head as she pulled out a navy University of Denver sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “You’re tripping girl.”
“I swear someday I’ll buy a house next to Walter Byron Park.”
“You keep saying.” Lilly pulled on her pants and gave her a doubtful smile.
Cassandra folded her arms. “You watch. I will.” How could she tell Lilly the park was her home, her own personal sanctuary?
Winter or summer, Cassandra had often walked along the path or sat at picnic bench. She loved listening to the roaring music of the thundering Ten Mile River that propelled her troubles down its path. She’d gone there to heal after Luke cheated on her. He hadn’t tried to apologize instead justifying his infidelity and telling their friends she was the Frigid Snow Queen. For the last couple of weeks, she had cried her eyes out.
Homes near Walter Byron Park cost over five hundred thousand dollars, but she’d find a way. She might not be J.K. Rowling, but somehow she’d get the money.
“Hon,” Lilly said, straightening her sweatshirt. Her trim figure rivaled a high school senior’s, but she was a high-powered attorney, who would sell her mother to win a case. “I hate to do this to you, but speech and language therapists don’t bring in the dough. I don’t know why you’re going back to school for your masters in speech. Go to law school or business school.”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer or a business woman. I can be a speech and language therapist and live in Frisco.” She blotted her lips on a tissue and threw it in the trash.
Lilly lifted her hands. “All right, all right. Forget I brought it up.”
Tired of this argument, Cassandra put her hands on her hips. “You want some coffee?”
“Sounds good to me. Are you going back to Copper?”
Holding her sweater and ski pants, Cassandra sat on her bed. “Yeah, I want to use the last of my four passes. I wish you could go.”
Lilly flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “Me, too, but I’ve got to pack to go out of town tomorrow. Can’t wait to go to Indianapolis in the winter time.”
“That’s what you get the big bucks for.” With her brand new shiny black Cadillac Escalade parked outside, Lilly wasn’t hurting for money. Cassandra couldn’t afford to buy the Escalade's hubcaps. One day without her expensive jewelry, designer clothes or chic restaurants, Lilly would go into shock.
Lilly rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. When I get back, we’ll go to Winter Park one last time.”
Cassandra pulled her sweater over her head and yanked on her white ski pants. “You’re on.”
Cassandra and Lilly headed down the stairs for breakfast. The aroma of waffles, sausages, eggs and coffee made Cassandra’s mouth water.
Cassandra headed for the coffee table with three silver coffee urns and poured herself a cup. She doctored it with half and half.
“Let’s go sit by the window,” Lilly said.
“Sure.” She followed Lilly to a two top green table between a young couple and a group of women. Outside a bay window, the snow fluttered onto the quiet street. Carrying her cup, Cassandra slipped between the tables.
One of the women said, “He’s so damn yummy.”
The man of her dreams sat reading a newspaper at a table set for two, but this look-alike had on a tight black sweater that covered his broad chest. She was drawn to those bulging arms, remembering how he’d held her tight last night.
Her heart pounded blood between her temples. Oh, shit. It couldn’t be.
Lilly ran into her. “Cassandra, what’s wrong?”
Cassandra shook her head. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. She was skiing out of control down a run about to hit a huge pine tree dead on.
“Cassandra, what’s going on?” Lilly spoke too loudly, and the man glanced up from his coffee.
Their eyes met and she remembered how his had burned with passion. He raised his eyebrow.
Cassandra winced. Had he guessed what she was thinking?
In her dreams, he had smoldering dark brown eyes. She had run her hands over his naked chest, exploring every rippling muscle, every sculpted crevice. How could the man from her sexy dreams be sitting in a green Avalon chair next to the patio doors?
Her fingers itched to run through his thick black hair the way she had done in the dream to see if it felt as silky as it had been last night. His kisses had left her skin chafed and she loved it, craved it. Heat swept over her body.
“You’re white as a ghost.” Lilly snapped her fingers in front of Cassandra’s face. “Hello, Earth to Cassandra?”
“God, I’m losing my mind.”
Lilly grabbed Cassandra’s arm. “Come on.” She marched her across the room to their table. “Now sit. You’re pale as a ghost.”
Heat rushed over Cassandra’s cheeks. Lilly sat across from her an
d gave her a quizzical look. Dizziness swept over Cassandra. She put her elbows on the table and rested her forehead in her palms.
Lilly tapped her long red nail on the table. “What is your problem?”
Cassandra’s stomach tightened and she whispered, “It’s him.”
Lilly scanned the room. “Him. Him who?”
“You know the guy I keep dreaming about?” She hoped the man couldn’t hear.
“Yeah, so?”
“Well,” She leaned closer. “He resembles the man sitting over there.”
“He’s cute, very cute.” She turned and winked at Cassandra. “You wish, girl.” She put both of her hands on the table and stood. “You can sit here and drool, but I’m getting coffee.”
Lilly was right. She had to get a hold of herself.
But how could she? She had never seen anyone who favored him, not even Luke. In fact, Luke was the exact opposite—a ski bum with long, shaggy blond hair and blue eyes. Cassandra had read romance novels with super hot guys on the cover, but the man in the corner beat them all. And he sat less than five feet from her. Outside the patio window, snow fell onto the wooden patio furniture. Down the straight was Walter Byron Park and what they did in the park…
Damn, she had to get out of here before she dissolved. As if reading her sinful thoughts, the man gave her a devilish smile—the same one he had bestowed on her in the dream last night. Chills ran down her spine and her heart threatened to burst.
She looked up and accidently caught his eye. He rose and began crossing the room toward her.
3
Sizzling beneath his gaze, Cassandra jumped out of her chair, whacking her knee on the table. “Crap.”
She half-limped back to the coffee table to refill her cream-colored cup, but she stole a glance at Mr. Yummy. With his tight blue jeans hugging his long legs, his long black hair falling across his shoulders and tight sweater, all he needed was a Harley Davidson and he could be a sexy hell’s angel. He got up and she jerked, splashing hot coffee on herself and the counter. “Shit!” She waved her hand. “Shit, shit.” She wiped her burning hand on her pants. Hoping no one noticed, she grabbed a cloth and mopped up the spill.
Turning around, she bumped into a hard wall of muscle and staggered backward. Someone grabbed her, steadying her. “Are you all right?”
His deep brown eyes mesmerized her. Her knee throbbed but she couldn't care less. His firm touch sent tingles through her and he smelled of cinnamon. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it fast. She couldn’t help focusing on his wicked lips. An urge to kiss him, to see if he tasted like cinnamon swept over her. God, she was a snow bunny in heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
“I doubt that,” he murmured. He released her arm, stepped around her and filled his cup. He sauntered back to his table like a black panther.
The group of women wandered away from their table. She tried to maneuver between them and tried not to spill her coffee. The ladies cast admiring glances at the man as he sat at his table. He was honey to hungry bees.
Lilly slurped her spoon. “Tall, dark and handsome. My favorite man candy.” She leaned close to Cassandra. “With those steamy looks, he could melt the snow outside.”
Cassandra wanted to shake her, tell her to back off, and stake her claim, but she gripped her coffee cup tight to keep from strangling Lilly. “He’s the best looking guy I’ve seen for a long time, and I just slammed into him like a mindless snowboarder.”
Lilly smiled. “Sure, you did.”
“It was an accident. I swear.”
Lilly lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth. “Honey, you’ve haven’t been able to take your eyes off him.”
“Neither have you.”
“So?” Lilly shrugged. “If I had bumped into him, I wouldn’t have ran and hid like a scared fawn.”
“I didn’t shy away.”
“Then why are you talking to me and not to him?”
Cassandra sipped her coffee, not wanting to argue with Lilly.
Lilly glanced at dream man and gave him one of her seductive smiles. Men tripped over themselves to get to her wild gypsy looks, her long, curly black hair, violet eyes and high cheekbones. When she wanted a guy, he never had a chance.
Cassandra sighed. She couldn’t compete. Not that Cassandra couldn’t get men. Then again, she wasn’t foolish enough to challenge Lilly either.
Lilly tilted her head. “He keeps looking over here.”
He leaned back on his chair and boldly held her gaze, not appearing the least bit embarrassed she caught him. A sinking pint of disappointment weighed heavy in Cassandra’s gut. Lilly’s charms must have captured him. She’d already lost. “Then go talk to him.” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended.
Lilly put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands. “He really resembles the guy from your dreams?”
“Just forget it.”
“Cassandra, for months, all I’ve ever heard about is this man in your dreams and now he’s here, you’re ready to toss him into a dung heap like you’ve done with every other guy.”
Too shaken to combat Lilly’s lawyer needling, Cassandra mumbled, “I haven’t tossed them.” She was too busy sorting out her feelings about mystery man. Did she have a chance with him? Could she talk to him without stuttering like a fool?
“Yes, you have. Left a long line of piled broken hearts, including Luke’s.”
“Give me a break? Luke?”
“He told me he slept with Diana, because you wouldn’t. He’s never had anyone turn him down before except you.”
“So, you want me to feel sorry for him?”
“No, just understand him. He said he still cares about you.”
Glaring, Cassandra folded her arms across her chest. “And you believed him?”
“I don’t know. He’s such a player who could tell. But players do have feelings.”
Was she talking about Luke or herself? Cassandra tapped her foot nervously on the floor, trying to decide whether she had led Luke on.
Lilly. Lilly grew bored with the men she dated and was always on the lookout for some new conquest. “Look Cassandra. You and I have never competed for a guy for a reason.”
“Yeah, I’d lose.”
“No, honey. We’re friends. Besides, what makes you think you’d lose? You got Luke didn’t you?”
“You wanted Luke?”
Lilly shrugged. “Your friendship means a lot to me. If you want this guy…”
Fear pooled in her stomach. Dreaming about the man was one thing. She had control in the dream, free to do what she wanted, but this, this was real. What could she say to the man? “Lilly, I don’t…”
“You’re a liar. Now, go get him.”
She froze. What if dream man didn’t want her? Luke would laugh, telling her she deserved it. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, go on.”
He was sitting reading the paper. No way was she going to interrupt him. Lilly would have no problem sliding into the empty chair next to him and getting his attention, but Cassandra broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. Her stomach growled.
“I’m hungry.” She darted from the table.
“Chicken.”
Ignoring Lilly, she hurried to the buffet table, filled her plate with homemade waffles, fresh blueberries and syrup.
He still sat in his seat. Alone. Good. She couldn’t stand to see him flirt with another woman. Even if she was too chicken to talk with him.
She returned to her table and bit into the blueberries, relishing their tart, sweet, juicy flavor. Definitely her favorite fruit. She shoveled three more bites.
“You’re eating the way a death row inmate eats his last meal.”
Damn Lilly. Mr. Hottie was glued to his paper. God, the man dwarfed his chair. Why did Lilly have to point out every little thing she did wrong? When did she become Ms. Manners. “Well, I, uh, wanted to hit the slopes.”
Lilly leaned closer. “Do
I appear stupid to you? You’re the Queen of Avoiders.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Look, I know you want him. Get him before someone else does. Your beautiful, Cassandra. He’d be a damn fool to let you go.”
Easy for Lilly to say. She didn’t turn into a stuttering buffoon around good-looking men. “Lilly, we’re not in seventh grade anymore.”
“You’re the one who’s in love with a dream guy and now his twin is sitting over there, you’re going to blow him off?”
“I’m not blowing him off. He’s interested in you.”
Lilly rolled her eyes. “Cassandra, you don’t know that. Now, go say something. Anything. Rather than sitting here like a shivering snowwoman.”
“Lilly, stop.”
“You’re chickening out again. He’s getting coffee.” Lilly glanced at Cassandra’s cup. “You’re out. Go get some.”
“Lilly, I don’t—”
Lilly patted Cassandra’s thigh. “If you don’t go over there and, at least, introduce yourself and ask him his name, I’m inviting him here for breakfast.”
Cassandra couldn’t face him. Not after the dream. He was way out of her league. “You wouldn’t.” The dream man’s words haunted her. He’d promised she would find out his name and—no this was a coincidence. It was a dream. Just a dream.
Her eyes twinkling, Lilly started to get up.
“Fine, I’ll go.” Forcing her wobbly legs to move, Cassandra clutched her mug, her nails digging into her palm, and headed to the coffee table. Pain would keep her mind straight. Hopefully.
Heart pounding and hands sweaty, she brushed up next to him and inhaled his cinnamony scent. Crap, her hormones were going into over drive.
Concentrate. Concentrate. Concentrate.
She ached to grab his shoulders, whirl him around and kiss him. What if he did? It would be too much, too real, too terrifying.
He poured cream into his mug and stirred.
“Hi,” Cassandra said too loudly. Why had she let Lilly goad her?
Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you always say ‘hi’ so angrily?”
“What do you mean? You don’t know me, and, for your information, I’m not angry.”