by Judi Fennell
“Oh, it’s amazing what you’ll do for love.” Mrs. Manley tapped the Hawaiian Kona packet. “We didn’t have a lot, but those kids knew they were loved. And they loved me right back. I was very fortunate to have been able to know my grandchildren as I’ve come to know them, and to have them be such a part of my life. There was nothing like having them with me all those years.”
Cassidy had to clear her throat on her walk to the coffee maker. It was either that or start blubbering all over the woman. Here, she’d been the only child to two parents and hadn’t gotten even a tenth of the love the lone Mrs. Manley had shared with four children. Liam and his siblings were so lucky, and it just showed what Franklin’s life and death had taught her was true: that all the things she’d had weren’t what was important in life. Look at her now: she didn’t even have one person she could go to for help, just some stranger with a big heart—that he’d obviously gotten from this woman.
“So what about you, Cass? What’s your family like? Do you have siblings? What do your parents do? Oh, and press that button on the top there.”
It might be a better idea to just get a kitchen knife and slice a vein than have this conversation. For all that she’d had everything, she’d had nothing when compared to Liam and his family.
She pressed the button and the coffee maker opened. “Um. My parents. They’re divorced.” Yes, stick as close to the truth as possible when lying. Not that she was going to lie, just omit a few things. Like her father’s name. “Mom lives out of the country, so I don’t see her a lot, and my father’s a workaholic. I’m an only child. Needless to say, my upbringing was a bit tame compared to Liam and his siblings’.”
“I can imagine.” Mrs. Manley set Titania on the floor and took a seat at the counter. “Put the water in that clear plastic part, dear. The lid lifts, I believe. The mug goes underneath and then press BREW.” She rested her hands on the counter, fingers intertwined. “My husband and I only had Neil. Liam’s father. I’d wanted more, but it wasn’t to be. Having four took some getting used to, but I must say, having them certainly made the grieving process easier. I didn’t have time. Plus, they were hurting so badly. My poor little Mary-Alice Catherine . . . She clung to me as if I was going to leave her next. As it is, I only moved out of the house she and I shared a few months ago. That girl wouldn’t let me go even when she grew up, though I think it was out of a misguided sense of guilt. I finally had to sign the papers on my new place behind her back to push her out of the nest, as it were, though I was the one who left. It’s time for her to be on her own and live her life. She’s too young—and so am I—for her to start taking care of me. I have some living left to do, you know, and I don’t think my grandchildren see me as a real person. As someone other than their grandmother.”
She winked at Cassidy and it was all Cassidy could do to keep her mouth from dropping open. Did Mrs. Manley mean what Cassidy thought she meant? Was there a gentleman friend in the picture, by chance?
She looked at the woman with new eyes. As a woman, not as a grandmother. She looked to be in her late sixties, early seventies, and in great shape. Obviously her mind was still sharp, and she was very beautiful. Why shouldn’t she date? Find someone to spend her twilight years with . . .
That image hit Cassidy with the force of an arrow right to the heart. Why? Why was she thinking about this now? It wasn’t as if she’d never contemplated the rest of her life, but it’d never hit her with such force.
And the sad thing was, she was seeing herself alone in a penthouse like the one she’d just left. Oh, sure, she’d probably have her father’s millions, but what about having children and grandchildren around her? Would marriage with one of Dad’s flunkies give her the family she so desperately wanted?
No. She knew it as surely as she was standing in Liam Manley’s kitchen conversing with his grandmother, and it only enforced her decision not to marry who Dad chose. It was merely another business deal to him, but to her . . . It was her chance to get what she wanted. Needed.
A family.
“Cass? Are you okay, dear?”
Cassidy took in a shuddering breath and pasted that big ol’ Showpiece smile on her face. She was no stranger to pretending everything was fine, to sucking it up and pouring on the charm when need be, and Mrs. Manley didn’t deserve to have all of Cassidy’s baggage unloaded on her.
“I’m fine. Just imagining what it must have been like growing up with three siblings. It must have been loud.” She took the mug from the pot, grabbed a spoon and the sugar bowl, then set them in front of Mrs. Manley. “Cream and sugar?”
“Just sugar.” She scooped out two teaspoons. “It was loud. I was used to just the one boy, you see. Three almost put me over the edge. And then Mary-Alice Catherine was doing everything her tiny little legs could do to keep up with them. There was never a dull—or clean—moment.”
“Liam told me that you taught them to clean.”
“It was that or drown in a mess. There were too many of them with too many needs and only one of me. They had to help out or my home would have been condemned.” She chuckled and took a sip of her coffee. “I just never thought they’d end up using what I’d taught them like this. I’d love to see Bryan cleaning a bathroom. This is wonderful, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bryan. Manley. Bryan Manley. Oh wow. Cassidy hadn’t made the connection. Bryan Manley was a movie star. This town’s hometown hero. He was actually a bigger celebrity than her father—which rankled her father to no end. The only saving grace in Dad’s eyes was that Bryan spent most of his time in Hollywood, and when he was here, he kept a low profile. She’d seen him at a few charity events, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him because of the throngs surrounding him. Dad felt it was undignified to be a member of a throng, so they’d waited for Bryan to come to them.
He hadn’t.
And she, in her pre-Franklin all-about-her days, had been miffed. Had decided he wasn’t worth her time or attention.
What a stupid idea. He was probably just as nice a guy as Liam.
Though Liam was actually better-looking in her opinion. But then, she might be a tad biased.
“So may I see my table?” Mrs. Manley asked after she’d shared more of Liam and his siblings’ childhood stories and finished her coffee. “I’m so excited. I’ve never had anything custom-made before.”
“Well, I’ve only sanded it and fixed the drawer. I haven’t started painting it.”
“I’d still love to see it, if you wouldn’t mind. The before part of my masterpiece.”
“Well I don’t know about masterpiece—”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Manley tapped Cassidy on the arm. “If you don’t think your furniture is an artistic masterpiece, no one else will either. You have to have faith in your work. Confidence. People can tell. Act as if they’re doing you a favor and you’ll devalue all your hard work and time.” Mrs. Manley hopped off the stool. “Let’s go see my diamond in the rough.”
Mrs. Manley was the gem here. The only gem that was really important in life. Cassidy wanted what Liam and his siblings had.
If she and he started something, maybe she could.
Of course, that would have to mean he wanted to start something with her, and she wasn’t sure he did. Oh, he was attracted to her, but a kiss did not a relationship make. She couldn’t let herself hope. Couldn’t let herself dream. She couldn’t take the disappointment if it didn’t pan out.
Too bad her heart wasn’t listening to the part about how it might not pan out.
“Well it certainly looks different than what it did the other day.” Mrs. Manley ran her fingertips gently over the barrel-shaped table that had been a splotchy mess of varnish and stain but was now newly sanded blond oak.
“And in a few days you won’t recognize it.”
“I’m very excited to see it. The décor will look lovely next to the blue chair Mary-Alice Catherine bought me.” She looked around the garage. “My, you have a lot of proje
cts going on.”
“And unfortunately, no more room to work on the rest of the pieces. I used to have a storage area but it, uh, the lease was almost up and the rent’s no longer in my budget.”
What budget?
“There’s the other half of the garage.” Mrs. Manley pointed to the truck.
“That’s where Liam parks.”
“It’s summer. He can park outside. You should make this your studio.”
“I don’t want to impose any more than I already am.” Liam didn’t deserve her imposition in his life, but having met his grandmother, she could see exactly why he’d offered to help her out.
“You’re so sweet. So thoughtful.” Mrs. Manley patted her cheek. “You know, I can help you and my grandson out. I know of a place you could use as a studio. The landlord needs someone to occupy it so the neighbors won’t complain to the city about it being abandoned. You could do him a favor by having your studio there. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“Oh, but, Mrs. Manl—”
“Don’t you dare turn me down, young lady. You think I don’t know you’re cutting me a deal on that table? I wasn’t born yesterday.” She arched both eyebrows. “And don’t go asking when I was born. I won’t tell you. A woman has to have a few secrets, you know.”
Like the one about her gentleman friend if Cassidy had read her right. Was he the owner of the place she was talking about?
“But, Mrs. Manley—”
“I said no buts. I won’t take no for an answer. And neither will my, um, friend.”
Friend. One word said so much. How could Cassidy refuse?
“But I don’t have the budget for it.” That’s how she could refuse, and it sucked that she had to. This would be the perfect opportunity to get out of Liam’s way so he didn’t come to resent helping her.
“He won’t hear of it, my dear. You trust me on this. If you really feel the need, you could make him a matching table and call it even.”
Cassidy resisted looking heavenward, but someone up there was on her side. “If you’re sure he won’t mind . . .”
“I know he won’t. Matter of fact—” Mrs. Manley rummaged around in her purse. “Ah. Here it is.” She held up a shiny key. “He gave me my very own key to the place. I think we should go over and take a look right now. If you have a few smaller pieces, we could even take them with us and you could have your own studio by tonight.”
The offer was tempting. And Mrs. Manley looked as if she’d be heartbroken if Cassidy turned her down.
“Okay, you’re on. Let’s go take a look. I just hope your, um, friend won’t mind me moving in.”
“Not to worry, my dear. He might be a stubborn coot, but he’s not stupid.”
Chapter Twenty-one
LIAM got out of the work van in his driveway and enjoyed the sounds of his pond in the front yard for a few minutes. He hadn’t had the chance to enjoy it for a while, always working, then hitting the sheets once he got home—more to ward off temptation than exhaustion.
Because with Cassidy in the next room, his exhaustion disappeared.
It took everything he had not to knock on her door. That kiss might have started out as a thank you kiss, but it could have so easily gone in another direction, and he was finding himself more and more curious about seeing where it could lead.
Maybe he ought to rethink sleeping at home tonight.
Sighing, Liam rubbed his lower back. He wasn’t twenty anymore and a couple of nights on a bed made of drop cloths were his limit.
He tapped the side of the truck and headed toward the door to the garage. Had she left another pile of clothes there?
And what would he do if she had?
What he found, however, was nothing.
Nothing.
Well, nothing of hers.
Liam took a few more steps inside, triggering the automatic light.
His truck was there, but there was no pile of clothing, and even more importantly, her furniture was gone.
Did that mean she was?
Liam opened the mudroom door. No little paw prints on the floor and no pile of sawdust-laden clothing to trip over.
He didn’t like this. She’d cleared out? How? With what? His truck was still here—
Her father. He must have come for her. Maybe the guy had had a change of heart after seeing the piece in the Herald and was planning to parade Cassidy around like her prized show dog to tell the world the report was wrong. It’d be just like the man to use his daughter to do damage control.
Liam couldn’t say if it was the thought of Cassidy being used that way or the fact that she’d left without a goodbye that hit him the hardest.
It was over.
What it are you talking about?
He rubbed the back of his neck. There was no it. There was nothing. One kiss didn’t change anything. She was still Cassidy Davenport, socialite extraordinaire.
Who, as it turned out, just so happened to have a real person inside the fancy packaging.
Mind off the packaging, Manley. That ship has sailed.
Except . . . it hadn’t.
He nudged open her bedroom door and there, in the moonlight spilling in through the curtains, was Cassidy, sound asleep in her bed.
Where she belonged.
Her bed, Manley. Not yours. Remember that and get the hell out of here. This isn’t a good idea.
It wasn’t. He knew that. But it didn’t stop him.
But when the fur-ball raised her sleepy little top-knot-and-bowed head, her little pink tongue sneaking out to lick her nose, that stopped him. He didn’t need a repeat of the other night when Titania woke her.
Actually, he wouldn’t mind a repeat of the other night. With a mix of that kiss tossed in.
Which was exactly why he needed to get out of there. Did he really want to start something? Sure, she was turning out to be different than what he’d thought, but she was still a Davenport. Had still been raised in that lifestyle. How long would it be until she missed it? Until she wanted it again? And he wouldn’t be able to give it to her because there was no way in hell he was worshipping at the altar of Mitchell Davenport.
He backed away.
But then the dog licked her bare arm and Cassidy let out a long, drawn-out breathy, “Hmmmmmm,” and Liam’s good intention dissolved. He could imagine her moaning like that while he licked other parts of her.
Move, Manley.
He didn’t.
Now.
He should but he didn’t because her fingers curled into the dog’s fur and he felt that touch as if she were doing it to him.
God, he wanted her.
He’d wanted Rachel, too, and that hadn’t worked out for him. Was he out of his mind? He needed to back away. Now.
Cassidy snuggled into her pillow and slid her leg to the edge of the bed, her toes peeking out. The blue toes. He couldn’t see the color in the moonlight, but he remembered it. He didn’t know why he was so entranced with blue toenail polish, but on Cassidy, it seemed to say something. Make a statement. As if she’d had them tattooed on in defiance of the image her father wanted her to present to the world.
He smiled. It was a small act of defiance, but he suspected she hadn’t had many chances to do so over the years. Or if she had, she’d never been brave enough to take them.
Maybe he could take a chance with her. Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t turn out to be another Rachel.
He resisted the urge to tuck her toes beneath the sheet because the minute he touched her, all bets would be off. Cassidy was beautiful, but it wasn’t just her looks that had a hold on him. And it was those other things that did that worried him.
She wasn’t who he’d thought she was.
She was better.
And he didn’t have a defense against that.
“Woof.”
Liam held up his hand as if the little dog was smart enough to understand him. Of course she wasn’t, so she wiggled out from Cassidy’s hold, jumped off the bed, and made a beel
ine straight for him, the little tail going a mile a minute.
He caught her as she jumped into his arms.
Just like her owner had . . .
What would have happened if he hadn’t ended the kiss? The possibilities had been bugging him ever since.
“Titania?”
Those possibilities reared their head with Cassidy’s tousled hair and sleep-laden voice. And the peach nightie hanging off one shoulder.
Get out! Get out! Get out!
“Liam? Is everything okay? What are you doing with Titania?”
“She must have heard me get home and came to investigate.”
Liar!
“I was just bringing her back.”
Going to hell, dude. Going to hell.
He was already there.
“Oh. Well thank you.” She patted her mattress. “Come here, you little heathen.”
She’s not talking to you, Manley.
Yeah, he got that.
Titania squirmed in Liam’s arms and he debated whether to take her over to Cassidy or set her down to go back on her own.
“Could you put her on the bed? She doesn’t like to jump up this high.”
Of course she didn’t. Why would she? Why wouldn’t the universe set this up . . .
Not the universe. You made this happen all by yourself. Makes me think you wanted it to.
Yeah, he did.
There. He was honest with himself. He’d been cursing himself since he’d backed out of that kiss.
“Liam?”
“Sorry. Here.” He set Titania on the edge of the bed. He might want to act on his desire, but ultimately, it couldn’t be a good idea. There would come a point when the newness of working for herself wore off and she’d take that easy-in back to the high life. He didn’t know if he could invest emotion in her only to lose out in the end. Again.
“Thanks.” Cassidy brushed the hair back off her forehead. “And Liam?”
“Hmm?” God she was gorgeous with the moonlight spilling over her skin and making her eyes sparkle, her lips puffy.
“That opposite sides thing?”