Fiancé for the Night: Chapter Five

Fiancé for the Night: Chapter Five

Cassandra walked toward the kitchen, unsure if this was her parents’ house or not because her mother rarely cooked and her father had never asked for a beer.

Who were these people? Where were her real mom and dad?

At the doorway to the kitchen, Cassandra froze.

The scent of fresh-baked brownies lingered in the air. A pan of them sat on the stove. Dirty bowls and pots filled the sink. If that wasn’t a bizarre-enough sight, her mother stood at the counter. She was—Cassandra did a double take—arranging a platter of vegetables.

Cassandra blinked, but when she opened her eyes, the image remained.

That was when Cassandra realized her mom wore a pale pink apron over her black pants and white blouse. That was not a normal fashion accessory for the refined and elegant Vanessa Daniels.

Not knowing what to say, Cassandra went with the obvious. “Can I help, Mom?”

Her mother turned and smiled. “I didn’t hear you come in. I told your father to let me know when you arrived.”

“He sent me in for beers. I think he wants to talk to Troy alone.”

“I’m sure of it.” Her mother returned to arranging the broccoli florets. “He’s been talking about Troy all week.”

Cassandra swallowed hard. Convincing her parents she and Troy didn’t belong together might be more difficult than she anticipated. But, hopefully, her mom and dad would soon see they came from different worlds with incompatible goals.

A venture capitalist?

Talk about repeating similar patterns.

Not a big deal. Her parents would soon realize the relationship would never work.

“What should I do?” she asked.

“How about you pour the beer? I chilled mugs. They’re in the freezer.”

Chilled mugs?

The theme from the

X-Files

might as well be playing.

Who was this woman she called Mom?

Yes, the gourmet kitchen with its custom cabinets and state-of-the-art appliances looked the same as the last time Cassandra had been here, which was over six, maybe eight, months ago, but her mother rarely cooked and hired a caterer when they entertained. They ate out or had meals delivered otherwise.

At least that was what they used to do.

Even though Cassandra hadn’t seen much of her parents unless they came to the city, she called them once a week. Nothing, however, had prepared Cassandra for the Pioneer Woman meets Martha Stewart personality takeover of her mom. This seemed…wrong.

Cassandra grabbed two mugs from the freezer and set them on the counter. The refrigerator contained three different brands of bottled beer. “Does Dad like a specific kind?”

“Any one will do, but give them both the same brand. Your father will want to know Troy’s opinion about the beer.”

“When did Dad start drinking beer?” She opened the bottles. “I thought he only liked Scotch.”

“Your father has always liked beer, but he enjoys the craft ones the best. He keeps a spreadsheet of the brands he’s tasted.” Vanessa laughed. “He’s investing in his favorites.”

Leave it to her dad to turn something he enjoyed into a business. Cassandra poured the beer.

“Be sure to tilt the glass,” her mother said. “Your father is particular about his beer.”

“Okay.” Cassandra would never have imagined her dad as a beer connoisseur, but she tilted the glass as instructed. “What are you making?”

“Appetizers.” Her mom wiped her hands on the apron. “Stuffed mushroom caps, a vegetable tray, and brownies.”

Cassandra eyed the chocolate batter on a wooden spoon. “I didn’t think you enjoyed cooking.”

“I do when I have the time, but I don’t like cleaning up the mess.” Her mother removed her apron. “Your father had this wonderful kitchen remodeled for me, so I figured I should attempt to get a small return on his investment.”

Cassandra grabbed the spoon and licked the chocolate off. “Dad must be happy.”

Her mom nodded. “But he’s gaining weight again.”

“I’m sure the beer isn’t helping.”

“It isn’t, but his doctor will be on him at his yearly exam.”

She’d grown up spending weekends and the summer months in this house, but Cassandra had been away for so long the place no longer felt like home. So much had changed. Her fault for staying away. Still…

“Thanks for going to so much trouble, Mom.”

“I want Troy to feel like this is his home, too,” her mom said. “He’s practically family.”

Practically family.

The key word was “practically.” Cassandra held in a sigh. “Well, almost.”

“There’s something you should know.”

Her mother’s serious tone sent a chill along Cassandra’s spine. “What?”

“Your father and I have been discussing this weekend’s sleeping arrangements.”

Cassandra could handle this. She smiled. “Let Troy have the guest room. I’ll sleep in my room.”

“That’s what your father said, but I don’t want Troy to think we’re, well, prudes.”

“Troy won’t think that.” Cassandra tucked her hair behind her ears. “This is your house, and while we’re staying here, we’ll follow your rules.”

“It’s just…I’m so happy you found him. I don’t want to do anything to, uh—”

“Screw it up.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Her mother looked uncomfortable at the choice of words. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Now that Cassandra had found an acceptable fiancé, she could make her own decisions without parental interference.

Unbelievable.

She ran a successful independent bookstore, which wasn’t exactly easy to do in the digital age, paid her bills on time, visited her dentist every six months, and still received no respect. But bring home a handsome, respectable male and bam—she was an adult?

That pissed her off. “I’m thirty-two. I grew up a long time ago.”

“I know, but you’ll always be my little girl.”

Maybe it was a mom thing, but Cassandra was long past being a kid.

“When your father spent the weekend with my parents for the first time, he was so nervous I thought he would sweat to death,” her mom said. “Troy needs you close.”

Her mother was usually more direct. “What are you saying?”

“The two of you can share your room.”

Cassandra almost dropped the beer bottle. “But—”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would be happy.”

“I’m shocked.” That was the last thing Cassandra expected to hear.

She didn’t want to share her bedroom with a stranger. Not that Troy was strange. He was cute, but she only knew him well enough to call him her fiancé—not to share her room with him.

She clutched the counter. There had to be a way out. “What about Dad? I don’t want to cause problems between the two of you.”

“I can handle your father,” her mother said with confidence. “It’s time he realized you’re not ten years old.”

“Really, Mom. Troy and I don’t mind. We don’t want to do anything to make you and Dad feel uncomfortable.”

“We are fine with the arrangements.”

Cassandra’s lips tightened. What would Troy say?

“Wipe your face, dear,” her mother said. “You have chocolate on your cheek.”

Chocolate was the least of Cassandra’s worries, but she wiped her face with a paper towel. “Thanks.”

“One more thing. I do hope you’ve been practicing safe sex.”

“Mother, really.” Cassandra wondered how many times her mother would shock her tonight, but sex wasn’t a topic she wanted to discuss with her mom. Not ever.

“I was young once, Cassandra. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

This visit was turning into a nightmare. Okay, she was the one to blame for starting the ruse in the first place, but still…

She gritted her teeth. “Okay.”

Vanessa grabbed the platters. “Let’s serve the food.”

Fine. Because Cassandra couldn’t take much more of this mother-daughter chat before she lost her mind or her temper.

How many more hours until she could go back to San Francisco?

♥ ♥ ♥

The clock struck midnight. Cassandra’s clothing wasn’t going to turn into rags like Cinderella, but the long day was catching up to her. She yawned.

Troy’s arm was around her shoulder. He gave her a squeeze. “Tired?”

Afraid that her voice might betray her emotions, she nodded. He was so at ease around her parents and her. He’d either read a book about being the perfect fiancé or had experience charming mothers and fathers. He was so attentive she could almost believe he wanted to marry her. If being a V.C. didn’t work out, he could try acting. He had the talent and the looks for the silver screen.

“I didn’t realize how late it is, kids. All the tasty food and conversation made us lose track of time.” Her dad stood. His delighted smile confirmed he didn’t suspect a thing about their so-called engagement. “Let’s get you settled upstairs.”

As her mother led the way up the flight of stairs, Cassandra followed slowly. Each step sent her closer to the impending doom of sharing a room and her bed. Her stomach knotted. Maybe her dad would say something.

Her mother opened the bedroom door and turned on the light. Her shoulders slumped. “Dixon.”

He ran up the stairs and peered around Cassandra. “Yes, dear?”

“What have you done?” Her mother didn’t sound pleased.

“Nothing.”

“I can’t believe you,” her mother mumbled. “You’re going to mess this up.”

The indignant tone of her mom’s whispers surprised Cassandra. She nudged past her parents and into her bedroom.

What…?

The queen-sized bed had been replaced by two twin beds.

Thank you, Daddy.

Cassandra held in her laughter. Her mother might have won the battle, but her father had won the war.

“Where is Cassandra’s bed?” her mom asked.

“Cassie’s mattress was old and lumpy, dear. She needed a new mattress, so I bought her one.”

Her mom touched her forehead. “You bought two.”

“They were on sale,” her father said. “Two for the price of one.”

Her mother stared at the purple-and-white striped comforters. “Where did you get the bedding?”

“They were on sale, too.”

“Well, at least they match and are her favorite color.” Vanessa shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind, Cassandra.”

Cassandra smiled at her good fortune. “This is fine. Isn’t it, Troy?”

Troy entered the room and set his bag on the closest bed. “Yes, of course.”

“Good night, kids.” Her father’s smile looked almost smug. “These walls are thin, so let us know if we’re keeping you awake.”

His comment earned him an elbow jab from her mother. As he walked out of the room, he left the door ajar.

Cassandra rubbed her warm face. She doubted anything would ease her embarrassment. “My father isn’t known for his subtlety.”

“Hey, I know where I stand.” Troy flashed her a charming grin. “If I touch you under his roof, he’ll come after me with a shotgun.”

Cassandra laughed. She appreciated his sense of humor. “You’d better keep your hands to yourself, then.”

“I assume we’re sharing this room.” Troy didn’t sound very happy with the idea.

“Yes, and you can blame my mother for that. At least my father had sense enough to buy twin beds.”

“What used to be in here?”

“A queen-size four-poster bed.” She left out the description of the carved antique oak headboard. She didn’t want to scare Troy off, nor did she want to inspire any romantic dreams of her own.

“A queen?” he asked.

She nodded, understanding his concern. “I’m so happy to see these two beds.”

“I’m relieved, too.” Troy touched the mattress. “I wish I could thank your father.”

Cassandra wished Troy didn’t sound so happy about the two twins. Would sharing a bed with her be that miserable?

Not that she wanted to sleep with him, but his obvious relief stung. She might not be cover-model gorgeous, but men asked her out. She just never said yes.

He looked around. “I can’t believe they’re letting us share a room.”

“This is my mother’s idea, but my father drew the line at us sharing a bed.”

“I’m not sure he’d let us do that once we were married.”

“You’re probably right.” Cassandra wondered what sharing a bed with Troy would be like. Given his height and athletic build, he would take up a lot of space. If he were a blanket hog, though, his body would keep her warm.

Troy rubbed his eyes. “Not that we’ll find out.”

“True.” She ignored the twinge of regret.

What was going on? No regret or disappointment allowed.

Cassandra wasn’t interested in Troy McKnight as anything other than her fake fiancé. As soon as this pretend engagement was over, she would never see him again.

Two more days…

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” she asked.

“No, you can.”

She grabbed her toiletry kit from her bag.

Troy unzipped his luggage, reached inside, and then tossed her a shirt. “Here.”

She stared at the white T-shirt. “What’s this for?”

“Did you bring pajamas?”

“No.”

“Wear it.” His hard tone surprised her. He’d never sounded that way to her.

Her gaze traveled from the shirt to him. “Are you always this bossy?”

“Only when my sanity is at stake.”

She wasn’t sure whether to take his comment as a compliment or not. Then again, he was uptight and predictable. No spontaneity, no adventure, no fun.

Maybe this weekend she could help him lighten up.

Might as well start now. “Were you a Boy Scout, Troy?”

“Eagle Scout.”

Cassandra winked at him. “Does that mean you’re always prepared?”

He swallowed.

Good. She’d caught him off-guard.

“Prepared?” His voice cracked. “For what?”

“For whatever might come up.” She hadn’t flirted in months. Okay, a year. But she pasted on the most come-hither smile she could muster. “We are engaged, and my parents will want us to act like a couple in love.”

She’d expected to see a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face, not a sexy bring-it-on grin that sent her pulse racing like a race car at Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca.

He walked toward her.

Each of his steps forward made her want to take one back.

“If you mean, am I prepared to provide sound effects through the thin wall? Yes, I am. The question is…are you?”

Maybe trying to get him to lighten up hadn’t been her smartest idea.

“Sure.” The word flew out of her mouth, and she ran into the bathroom. The door closing didn’t bring any relief.

Uh-oh. Troy might be prepared—but she wasn’t.

Not for him.

She forced herself to breathe.

♥ ♥ ♥

As Troy paced the length of the bedroom, his gaze strayed to the closed bathroom door. What was he doing? He should have gone first so he could have been asleep when Cassie came out.

Yeah, right.

He doubted he’d sleep tonight sharing a room with her, only a few feet separating her bed from his, and his brain unable to stop thinking about her. Troy dragged his hand through his hair.

The bathroom door opened.

He stopped pacing and struck what he hoped was a casual, doing-nothing-but-looking-cool pose.

Cassie carried her clothes. She wore his T-shirt. Giving her that hadn’t been one of his smartest moves. The hem of the shirt brushed the top of her thighs. Her breasts—no bra—pressed against the thin fabric.

Such luscious curves.

Troy sucked in a breath. He should have brought the flannel pajamas his mother had given him last Christmas and had Cassie wear those. Or a dress shirt. Anything that covered her more.

“It’s all yours,” she said.

He wanted it—all of it. He gulped. Cassie had meant the bathroom, of course. But that could wait. He much preferred the view in the bedroom.

“There are clean towels in the cabinet,” she added.

He forced his gaze from her never-ending legs. Leering was not acceptable fiancé behavior. “Okay.”

Troy removed his shaving kit and a pair of shorts from his bag, walked into the bathroom, and slammed the door. He gritted his teeth.

If he weren’t careful, a cold shower would be in his near future. Cassie might not be like the career-driven women he wanted to date. Or would date if he made the time, but she was sexy.

Her sexiness must be the reason he was on edge. That and not dating anyone. He’d been without a woman’s company for too long.

Cassie wasn’t the one driving him crazy. Any attractive woman would be having the same effect on him. Yes, that explained his physical attraction to her.

Troy splashed cold water on his face.

Now that he knew the cause, he could control it. He was here because of his career. His future as a venture capitalist was what mattered, nothing else. He’d been handed a golden opportunity to spend time with Dixon Daniels—one Troy wouldn’t waste on hormones and the need for instant gratification. He’d survived this long. No reason to do something stupid that could mess up everything he’d worked so hard to achieve.

After Troy finished in the bathroom, he opened the door and froze. The top sheet and comforter of Cassie’s bed had been turned down. She sat cross-legged on the mattress with the flower still tucked behind her ear. The hem of her T-shirt, well, his, rode high on her thighs.

Cassie glanced at him, but she didn’t say a word.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I interrupted you.”

“You didn’t.” She pulled the edge of the shirt lower. “I finished meditating.”

“Do you do that every night?”

“Not every night.” She pulled up the covers. “But it helps keep the stress levels down.”

Troy couldn’t imagine what stress she could have unless the stars and planets were out of alignment. Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair, but she seemed so free-spirited. The only thing that seemed to bother her was her family’s meddling.

“Have you tried yoga?” she asked.

“Uh, no.”

“Works wonders after a long day at the office.”

“I’m not the yoga type.”

She stared at him with a serious look. “No, you’re not.”

The certainty in her voice bothered him—her slight grin that followed did, too.

“The light switch is on your right,” she said.

Troy glimpsed a white lace bra lying on top of her yellow shirt. He blinked, hurriedly flicking off the light switch.

It was going to be a long night.

He climbed into bed. He hadn’t slept in a single bed since college, but that one had an extra-long mattress. His feet hung over the edge on this one. “Good night, Cassie.”

“Good night, Troy.”

He didn’t close his eyes.

Something was on the ceiling. Were those lights?

Troy blinked and then refocused.

Huh? They looked like stars. He took a closer look and located the Big Dipper.

“Cassie?” he asked.

“What?”

“There are stars on the ceiling.”

“Yes.”

He searched the fluorescent dots and saw Orion. “Why are there stars?”

“I love to stargaze.”

“Me, too. Growing up on the farm, I got spoiled. With no city lights to interfere, the sky is always full of stars.” Troy searched for other constellations. He found Andromeda and Eridanus. “Who did this for you?”

“When I was younger, I would lie in the backyard and stare at the stars with my planisphere in hand. One winter, it got so cold my mother thought I’d catch pneumonia. My father had these glow-in-the-dark stars put on the ceiling so I could stay warm while I scanned the sky for constellations.”

“Your dad did a great job.”

“He hired astronomers to place them, so it’s pretty accurate. For a bedroom ceiling, that is.”

Troy located the Pleiades. He couldn’t imagine having Vanessa and Dixon Daniels as parents, or the money they must have spent to replicate the stars by sticking fluorescent replicas on a ceiling. Someday…

“My mother hated us going out in the winter, too.” Troy could barely move by the time his mom finished dressing him for an evening of stargazing in the chilly air. “But on the clearest and coldest night, you could see what seemed like a million stars in the sky.”

Cassie sighed. “Sounds like heaven. Why did you leave?”

“I got tired of living on a farm. I watched my parents grow old worrying about money, about the weather, about grain prices…”

About how to pay for their children’s college education, their own retirement, and groceries. His father was only fifty-two, but he had lines of worry etched on his forehead. It wasn’t fair how little he had to show for all his hard work.

“That’s just life,” Troy admitted. “But the hardships are multiplied by five, sometimes ten, when you’re a farmer.”

“But aren’t there pluses to living on a farm?” Cassie asked. “No crowds, no traffic, lots of open spaces.”

True, but Troy didn’t want to live hand to mouth or harvest to harvest. The only way to get what he wanted was to move to the big city. Leaving his family and the only lifestyle he’d known had been a sacrifice, but one he’d make again.

Cassie grew up rich. She wouldn’t understand his reasons or be able to comprehend how his family still struggled although he sent money and flew back on his vacations to help during the busy times.

“There are pros and cons. Floods and droughts,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “So many things are out of your control. Farming isn’t an easy way to make a living.”

“I always thought farming would be fun.” Cassie sounded as if she disapproved his reasons.

“At times, it’s fun, but there’s work involved. Hard, back-breaking work no matter what the conditions are outside.”

A star fell from the ceiling.

“Did you see that?” she asked in a wistful voice.

“What?”

“A falling star.” Her childlike excitement brought a smile to his face. “Make a wish, Troy.”

Wish on a plastic star? He rolled his eyes. She probably tossed coins into fountains, too. “It’s not a real star, Cassie.”

“So? It can’t hurt.” She went quiet. “Did you make a wish?”

“Yes.” He had wished for a BMW. He didn’t need a Ph.D. in human behavior to know she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you, my wish won’t come true,” she said. “Although, I’ve always thought you could learn a lot about a person by knowing what they wished for.”

Troy wondered what he could learn from Cassie’s wish. She probably wished for world peace or an end to hunger.

“I’m happy you made a wish, Troy. I thought you were a total stickin-the-mud.” She rolled over so her back faced him. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Cassie.”

He stared at the ceiling. Another star fell. He made a wish. No way was he a “stickin-the-mud.” Except…

His muscles tensed.

Did wishes tell something about a person? If so, what did his say about him?

Troy wasn’t sure he wanted to know because this second wish shocked him. He should have wished for a partnership or his own company, but he hadn’t.

He had wished for Cassie.