by Gerri Hill
Laura met her gaze. “And were you?”
“I tell myself no. And really, most of them—like Larson—initiate the sex, not me. I…I find myself just going through the motions and I don’t like myself very much for that.”
“Every date doesn’t have to end in sex, Cassidy.”
“I know. Now that I’m older, I actually hate first-date sex. What about you? This last one?”
Laura shook her head. “No. I have this rule. Well, since I turned thirty, I have this rule. If I’m not emotionally invested, I don’t sleep with them. Sex, to me, is too personal.”
“If I had that rule, I’d never have sex.”
“You’ve never been in love?”
Cassidy shook her head. “You?”
“Yes. A couple of times.”
“So what happened?”
“The first time, I was apparently in a little deeper than she was. And the second, Sandi—she’s the one who taught me to cook—just fizzled out. For both of us. We ended things in a friendly, very civilized manner.”
“You lived together?”
“Yes. And I introduced her to her current girlfriend and they are head over heels in love. I see her now and I realize how different it was with us.” Laura shrugged. “So maybe we weren’t really in love after all.”
“I’m not sure I’d recognize it if it happened to me. I’m forty-four and still looking. I have this fear it’s never going to happen.”
“It’ll happen when you least expect it. That’s what my mother always tells me.” Laura’s foot bumped hers and she pushed off. “With all the dating you’re doing, you’re bound to find someone. Me? Living out here? My chances have dropped significantly.”
“Yeah. Well…maybe being in love is overrated.”
Laura laughed. “Yeah…let’s go with that.”
* * *
“Just because I spent a lazy afternoon in the pool—”
“Drinking beer,” her mother added.
“—doesn’t mean that you have to eat leftovers.” She smiled. “Besides, I’m starving. I could eat a whole pizza by myself.”
Actually, the pizza was Cassidy’s idea. She’d invited Laura—and her mother—to have dinner with her. Laura had protested, of course. She’d just spent the better part of three hours with her. But Cassidy had persisted and Laura had been too relaxed to offer much resistance after that, other than to insist they eat at her mother’s house.
She enjoyed Cassidy’s company. A lot. Cassidy was cute and charismatic, pleasant to be around and just witty enough to be charming. Add to that, she looked fabulous in a swimsuit. No wonder she could date anyone she wanted.
“So you’ve made a new friend? You were worried about that when you moved here, I know.”
“Yes, we’ve become friends. She’s nice.” And they had, even though Laura didn’t recall ever having a friend she enjoyed looking at—especially in a swimsuit—as much.
“Have you told her about the binoculars yet?”
Laura pointed a finger at her mother in a mock threat. “Not a word,” she warned. “She knows I can see the pool from the windows upstairs, that’s all.” God, she would be so embarrassed if Cassidy knew she’d spied on her with binoculars. But not lately, she reminded herself. She’d refrained. Even that one time when Cassidy had stripped and gone skinny-dipping with that blonde. She frowned. That particular blonde had only lasted the one weekend. She didn’t remember Cassidy even mentioning her name. Or had she? Then she frowned even more. What if Cassidy wanted to go upstairs? Then she’d see exactly the view that Laura had from the writing room.
She had a moment of panic. Were the binoculars still there? Out in plain sight?
A knock on the back door—the patio—signaled Cassidy’s arrival.
Damn! She turned to her mother. “If you mention the binoculars, I’m putting you in a nursing home!” she threatened teasingly.
Her mother smirked at her. “I think you have a crush on her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” She hurried over to the door and jerked it open, finding a smiling—and dressed—Cassidy Anderson. “Pizza’s not here yet.”
“That’s okay. I brought wine,” she said, holding up a bottle. Then she produced another smaller bottle. “And bourbon.”
Laura grinned. “My kinda gal. Come on in.” She motioned to the table where her mother sat. “This is my mother, Maggie Fry.”
“It’s Maggie Morrison,” she corrected as she shook Cassidy’s hand.
“Whatever,” Laura murmured. “This is Cassidy Anderson.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Morrison. Thanks for allowing me to join you for dinner.”
“Please…call me Maggie. Welcome to our home.”
Cassidy eyed the walker next to the table. “Laura tells me you’re getting around a little better.”
Her mother nodded. “I have no choice. She hides my wheelchair from me.”
At Cassidy’s shocked expression, Laura laughed. “She’s kidding, of course.”
Her mother laughed too. “Yes, I’m kidding. Laura’s been a godsend.”
Cassidy nodded. “She certainly has. My yard has never looked better.” Cassidy pulled out a chair and sat down. “You should see the flowers she’s put in. They look great.”
“Don’t forget you promised to help me in the morning,” Laura reminded her.
“Looking forward to it.”
Laura pointed to the two bottles that Cassidy had set on the counter. “Bourbon or wine?”
“What will you have?”
“I’m going to have bourbon with Coke.” Cassidy made a face and Laura laughed. “What? Ruining the bourbon?”
Cassidy smiled. “You know what? I’ll try that too. Easy on the Coke.”
“I’ll have the same,” her mother said. “Easy on the bourbon.”
Laura was smiling as she took three cocktail glasses out of the cabinet. She’d only had two beers—well, three, if you counted that first one Cassidy had brought her out by the flowerbed—but she was still feeling a little mellow. Maybe she should go easy on the bourbon too. But why? It was a pleasant night. She was already at home and there was a very attractive woman having dinner with them.
She paused in mid-pour. Did she have a crush on Cassidy Anderson? She shook her head. No. Of course not. She wouldn’t blame herself if she did…but no. She’d made a new friend, that was all. A cute, fun, charming friend. Yes, a new friend. Not a crush.
She was still smiling, however, as she brought their drink glasses to the table. Cassidy reached for hers and—as their fingers brushed—their eyes met. Laura felt a rather odd sensation flow through her as she watched Cassidy take a sip.
“It’s perfect, Laura…thank you.”
Laura swallowed and turned away.
Oh, God…I do have a crush. She closed her eyes for a second. Friend. She’s a new friend. That’s all. A friend.
For God’s sake…a crush?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cassidy plopped down onto the grass and leaned back, staring up into the blue sky. She felt Laura nudge her leg with her foot.
“Get up. We’re not through.”
“You’re being a slave driver,” she complained.
Laura laughed. “We haven’t even started on the stone yet.”
Cassidy groaned. “Is it too early for a beer?”
“Yes. No beer until you’re finished.”
Cassidy lifted her head. “We could take a break. Hop in the pool,” she suggested hopefully.
“No, no, no. If we get in the pool, we’ll never get out.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“You have a party tomorrow,” Laura reminded her.
Cassidy leaned back down. “Why am I having a party again?”
“Because you don’t like to be alone. Now get up.”
Cassidy sighed. That’s right. She didn’t like to be alone. Although she had to admit, she slept like a baby last night. She pushed herself up into a sitting position
, smiling as she remembered Laura nearly devouring her pizza, then them playfully fighting over the last piece. Laura won, then she proceeded to cut it in half and share it anyway.
After pizza, they had swapped their drinks for water and gone to sit on the patio, both complaining of full stomachs. They’d chatted for a bit, then Cassidy had made her way home with Laura calling after her, reminding her of their flowerbed project.
And this morning, after coffee, they’d tackled it. It had proven to be more work than she’d imagined and she knew she’d not paid Laura nearly enough for all the labor she’d already done.
“Why are you smiling?”
Cassidy arched an eyebrow. “Can’t I smile?”
“You just accused me of being a slave driver.”
“And you are.” Cassidy finally got to her feet, standing in front of Laura. “I’m smiling because I was picturing you having pizza last night—inhaling it—with tomato sauce on both cheeks.”
Laura playfully punched her arm. “You could have told me! When I went up to brush my teeth, I nearly screamed when I saw it.”
Cassidy laughed. “Yeah, I probably should have told you.” She stared at her now, seeing a streak of dirt on her face. “How is it that you get so dirty?” She reached out a hand and gently wiped it away.
“Because I’m not a dainty girl, apparently,” Laura said.
“No, you’re not.” And Cassidy found she liked that about Laura. She tried to imagine any of her other friends out here, playing in the dirt like Laura was and she couldn’t even envision it.
Laura had dirt stains on both knees and sweat clung to her skin. A baseball cap covered up her bedhead—which she’d spied that morning when they’d had coffee—and her ever-present cutoff jeans were soiled as well. She wondered how many pairs of them she had.
“How about I finish spreading the mulch and you start bringing the stone over?” Laura suggested.
“Seems like I’ll be doing more work than you. Is that fair?”
Laura gave her a rather flirty smile. “And whose idea was the flowerbed again?”
“It was mine. But—” Cassidy pointed her finger at Laura. “Whose idea was it to put stone around it?”
“Hey, I simply offered that as a suggestion. You were the one who agreed to it.” Laura pushed her toward the truck. “Off you go. The more you complain, the longer it’ll take.”
“And the longer it takes, the less pool time we’ll have.”
“Exactly.”
Cassidy found herself smiling as she slipped on her gloves. In her life, professionally and personally, she was used to being in charge. Certainly at work, she was the boss. And in her personal relationships—both with friends and lovers—she found most, if not all, deferred to her. Not Laura. She wasn’t afraid to take charge. It was refreshing, really.
She picked up the first stone and lugged it over to the flowerbed where Laura was once again on her knees, spreading mulch carefully around the colorful flowers. Laura had told her the varieties, but Cassidy had already forgotten. The names didn’t matter to her. They were beautiful and colorful and a feast to the eyes. As she went back for a second stone, she paused, watching as Laura lifted the petals of a flower before placing mulch around it.
“Hey…you want to come over for a steak tonight?” she asked, the question out before she could fully comprehend it.
Laura turned to look at her, her brow furrowed as if contemplating an answer. She finally nodded.
“I’ll need to see about my mother’s dinner first, but sure.”
“She can join us too.”
“No. Fridays are one of her favorite TV nights. She’d probably be happy to have me out of the house.”
“Okay. Good.”
She went back to her stone hauling, wondering if she wanted Laura’s company simply because she didn’t want to be alone…or if she simply wanted Laura’s company.
* * *
Laura was full—stuffed, in fact—but she managed the last bite of steak anyway. It had been cooked to perfection and she refused to waste it. Instead of using the table by the outdoor kitchen, they’d brought their plates over to the pool, using one of the round patio tables instead. Cassidy had tilted the umbrella slightly to block the breeze and lit a candle. It was a very intimate dinner with only the lights from the pool and the candle flickering back and forth.
Intimate and romantic. And Laura wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. She admitted that she had a tiny—teeny-weeny, itty-bitty—crush on Cassidy. But how embarrassing would it be if Cassidy suspected as much? Well, about as embarrassing as it was when Cassidy guessed she’d been spying on her pool from the upstairs windows. She’d blushed head to toe.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve cooked steaks for quite a few people over the years, and I do think that you are the very first woman to have finished one.”
Laura smiled. “Yes, the polite thing to do would have been to leave some, as well as some of the potato,” she said as she picked up her wineglass. “It was simply too good and it would have been sinful to leave it.” She made a show of looking across the table at Cassidy’s plate. “I see the only thing that survived you was an asparagus spear.”
Cassidy stabbed it with her fork and shoved it in her mouth with a grin.
“Next to my own, of course, this was a pretty darn good steak,” Laura said. “I’m impressed.”
“What? That I can cook?”
“Cook to perfection,” Laura corrected. She leaned her elbows on the table. “The next time—if there’s a next time—I’d like you to make your green jerk chicken. That smelled wonderful.”
“I like that about you.”
“What?”
“That you like to eat.”
“Oh. You mean compared to the overly thin blondes that you bring around?”
“Yeah, them.”
“Yes, well, I do like to eat. I fear when I’m older, I’m going to plump out.”
Cassidy laughed. “But your mother is thin.”
“My mother claims she’s gained six pounds since I’ve been living here. How do you stay in shape? Run? Gym? Both?”
“I hate to run. But gym, yes. I’ve got one in the house. Lots of fancy workout systems. Got an elliptical that I like and a rowing machine. Weights. Things like that.”
Laura nodded. “That’s one thing I miss about my apartment—the gym. Well, that and the three pools.” She smiled and motioned to the pool beside them. “Thank you for allowing me to use yours.”
“You know, if you want to use my gym, I wouldn’t mind,” Cassidy offered.
“Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly intrude into your home. It’s bad enough that I’m taking advantage of your pool.”
“Well, when I give you a tour of the house and you see the gym, you might change your mind.”
Later, when Laura stood inside that very same gym—seven weight systems, a fancy elliptical that she probably wouldn’t know how to use, free weights, stationary bike, rowing machine—she nearly started salivating.
“Are you kidding me? This is bigger than the one at my apartment.” She turned to Cassidy. “Your house is huge. Your bedroom is obscenely large. This gym is ridiculous.”
Cassidy laughed. “Yes to all. The guy who drew up my plans added the sitting room in the bedroom. The entertainment room, with theater seating, that’s over the top. I don’t even like to watch movies. My master bath, my office, my kitchen…and my gym; all my designs. The rest, even the outdoor kitchen, the guy drew up.”
“And all the extra bedrooms?”
Cassidy shrugged. “Weekend company.”
“Family?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. I keep thinking I need to have my brother out here.”
“Kids?”
“He’s got three.”
“I’m sure they’d love the pool.”
Cassidy shrugged again. “They’ve got their own.”
“Of course they do,” she murmured, getting a smile from C
assidy.
“He built his new house about three years ago. Took me a bit longer.”
“But yours is bigger?” she guessed.
“Yes.”
“Sibling competition?”
“Not really, no. We get along fine. Separation of duties and all that.”
“But you’re the boss?”
“If we have a disagreement about something, we usually defer to our father.”
She said that so easily, Laura knew that meant that her father then deferred to her. After all, Cassidy apparently was the brains behind the operation. She studied her for a moment, trying to decide if Cassidy truly liked being the boss or not. It must come with pressure—stress—to keep things running smoothly. Obviously the company was a huge success, judging by this monstrosity she’d built.
“You hate my house, don’t you?”
Laura shook her head quickly. “Not at all.” Then… “Well, it is a little sterile. There’s nothing here that’s you.”
“I know. I was thinking that same thing. Personal things…they’re all still at my apartment.”
“So this is just a weekend place? That’s still your home?”
“Exactly.”
“Damn huge, expensive weekend place.”
Cassidy laughed loudly but said nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cassidy stood back, looking at the activity around the pool. Judging by the laughter and splashing, she’d say the party was a success. She lost count of how many pitchers of margaritas she’d made and several empty wine bottles lined the bar. The table with appetizers and dips had been mostly ravished and it was still another hour before the caterers would come with the fajitas. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Everyone but her.
Her gaze was drawn to the upstairs windows of Laura’s house. Was she up there? Or was it too noisy? Was the music too loud? She’d hoped that Laura would make an appearance, even though last night she’d politely declined the invitation once again.
“There you are! Thought you’d disappeared.”
Cassidy turned, automatically smiling at the woman who stood before her. What was her name again? Patty? Patsy? Pam?