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Authors: Bonnie K. Winn

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BOOK: His-And-Hers Family
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Chapter Eight
C
assie called a Hawkins family meeting with trepidation, the letter from her mother resting heavily in her pocket. Martha Sanders had hated to tell her, but Cassie’s “perfect” tenants had abandoned the house. The rent money she’d counted on to pay the mortgage was now gone. And although her mother had put out feelers, no one had shown an interest in renting the house. As she faced her children, Cassie’s heart weighed as heavily as the letter in her pocket.
“I had a letter from your grandmother,” Cassie began.
“Is she okay?” Jimmy Ray asked immediately. As the oldest grandchild, he had a special connection to his grandmother. At times he felt guilty about enjoying L.A. and his computer so much, knowing they’d left their home and family behind.
“Granna’s fine, but she did have some bad news. The renters moved out of our house. It’s sitting empty, and the rent I planned to use to pay the mortgage won’t be coming.”
“Will it take most of your salary to pay the bank now?” Katherine Ann asked.
“It will take quite a bit, but I’m not sure that’s what we should do.” Cassie took a deep breath. “If we let the house sit empty for a year, it might take more money than we’ll have to fix it up once my contract here is up.”
“Don’t you think Mr. Matthews will renew your contract?” Jimmy Ray asked, his young brow furrowed in concentration.
Cassie remembered Daphne’s threat the week before and wondered. If the woman did snag Blake, Cassie suspected she’d be out of a job in an instant. “I don’t know. But I do know that I can’t count on it. It will take a good chunk of my salary to pay the house notes, and maybe we should consider going back home while our house is still in good shape.”
“No, Mama!” they all chorused, surprising and deafening her in one swift action.
Cassie tried to soothe them. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”
“We like it here,” D.J. announced.
“We really do, Mama,” Katherine Ann agreed.
“And we’d still have money problems back in Twin Corners, wouldn’t we, Mama?” Jimmy Ray asked.
“Yes, we probably would, but your grandmother wants to help pay our house note, and she simply can’t afford it.” Their grandmother’s financial situation wasn’t news to the children, and the mention of it quieted them immediately. “She wants you all to be happy here. But I think we’d all have a hard time being happy, knowing she’s the one making the sacrifices.”
“Could you talk to Mr. Matthews?” Katherine Ann questioned. “And see if he could give you a raise?”
“That’s quite a jump in logic, considering I’m not even sure I’ll have a contract after this year.”
“Yeah,” D.J. agreed. “But we could all get jobs again, like we did back home, and help out.”
“Or we may just have to move back,” she suggested gently.
Jimmy Ray met her gaze evenly, his always toogrown-up, too-serious teenage face earnest. “We’ll do what we have to, Mama.”
Looking around the circle of cherished faces, Cassie again thanked her lucky stars for such wonderful children. Then she glanced down the hallway at Blake’s study, knowing that facing him would be as difficult as facing her trio of children had been.
 
CASSIE PUT IT OFF as long as possible, but she ran out of excuses. Feeling much like a kid facing the school principal, she knocked on the door of Blake’s study.
She interpreted the mutter she heard as assent. Cautiously she opened the door and poked her head inside, but Blake’s attention was still fastened on his work. Realizing her subtle entrance would go unnoticed, Cassie braved the distance to his desk. But he still didn’t look up. It occurred to her that she might need to set off a bomb to get his attention.
She had started to clear her throat when Blake surprised her by lifting his head and throwing down his pen. “Something up?”
Startled by his sudden attention, she was unnerved for a moment. “Yes, I need to talk to you.”
His gaze settled on hers. “Serious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
He waved her into the chair across from his desk. “Spill it.”
She relaxed a fraction at his casual tone, but her mission still stuck in her gut. “I have some news....”
“I take it not good news,” Blake guessed, still intently watching her.
Cassie took a deep breath. “The people who were renting my house moved out.”
“And?”
“
And
they’ve abandoned the house.” When he didn’t comment, she continued, “
And
, the rent money I counted on to pay the mortgage won’t be coming in. So...I’ve come to ask you to release me from my employment contract.”
“No.”
No hesitation, no discussion. Just no.
Cassie felt a trace of panic. “My mother’s trying to help pay the bank note, and I can’t let her do that—she can barely afford her own home. I didn’t expect my house to be abandoned when I signed the contract, and—”
“Agreed. I’ll extend the terms of your contract to cover the mortgage payments on your house.”
“Extend the terms?” She paused as that sank in. “Do you mean pay my mortgage?”
“Precisely.” Blake picked up his pen, obviously ready to return to the stack of papers on his desk. “That and take care of any repairs and expenses you run into because the house is sitting empty.”
She stuttered. “You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“Well, because... You just can’t, that’s all.”
Blake lifted one brow. “How can I argue with such precise logic?” Since she was too flabbergasted to answer, he provided his own reply. “Your employment contract’s like any business agreement—there are built-in parameters, should circumstances change.” He shrugged. “Which they have. There’s no need to cancel your contract—a simple amendment will take care of the problem.”
Cassie remembered to shut her mouth, knowing it must resemble an airplane hangar, but it was open again in seconds. “You call that simple?”
“Why make it complicated?”
“I can’t accept such generosity.”
“You just told me that you didn’t calculate the renters leaving when we made our agreement. And in offering you the job, the status of your house was an important factor. So, I agree that it’s part of my contractual obligation.”
“Just like that?”
“I wouldn’t be an effective businessman if I couldn’t make quick decisions.”
“The children
do
want to stay....”
“And you, Cassie? What do you want?”
What did she want?
She felt like a butterfly reluctant to release the cocoon. On one hand, she wanted to stay and explore L.A. and everything it had to offer. On the other, she was tempted to return to the familiar...the safe. Meeting his relentless gaze, Cassie tried to dodge the question. “I want my family to be happy.”
Cassie could see that he wasn’t fooled by her evasive tactic. He turned her statement around. “Then you’ll be staying.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You want your family’s happiness. They want to stay in L.A. Am I missing something?”
No, he never missed a beat
. “One thing. Why are you doing this?” Cassie thought she saw a twitch, a quick tightening of his jaw, but his next words dispelled the notion.
“You’re an excellent nanny. You’ve already made headway with the boys. It’s in my best interests to keep you here.”
His best interests. Hardly anything personal. You’re the help, Cassie. Don’t forget it.
“Of course. Still, I appreciate what you’re doing—and I don’t say that lightly.”
One of Blake’s lips curved upward. “For all your talking, I don’t think you say anything
lightly
.”
“No, I’m still small-town. From talking too much to worrying about my big old house and my kids. But you’re right, my family’s happiness is most important, so we’ll be staying.” Even though, in doing so, she was putting more of her emotions on the line. Emotions that apparently were not reciprocated. Not giving him time to reply, she rushed out of the study, ignoring his startled, confused expression.
Chapter Nine
C
assie looked at her bathtub’s gleaming faucet in disgust, preferring to concentrate on the mundane, rather than on her tangle of emotions. Despite its architectural perfection, the stupid thing was broken. Even though Pedro performed general handyman jobs around the house, he’d scratched his head when faced with this one and repeated Blake’s solution: Call the plumber.
Which sounded easy enough. Until you tried to get one to commit. She was beginning to think it would be easier to lure one of Hollywood’s movie stars to the house than a licensed plumber.
And until then, she had to bathe in another bathroom. Although most of the rooms had connecting baths like hers, there was a bathroom a few doors away down the hall. Cassie just wished she didn’t have to pass Blake’s bedroom to get there. It was a silly thing to worry about, but she preferred it to dwelling on Daphne’s words.
She hadn’t forgotten Daphne’s warning the other night, and still wondered whether the other woman had been telling the truth. Was that why Blake had remained so emotionless when she discussed breaking her contract? Was there more to his relationship with Daphne than Cassie had seen? Or had Daphne decided to set her claws into Blake and now hoped her words would scare away any competition?
And could she really consider herself competition? Despite the reactions Blake could cause without any effort, Cassie knew she wasn’t in his league. She must have imagined that she saw a flicker of attraction in his eyes, because from the way he’d acted last night, it was clear that his interest in her was strictly professional. And even though she disliked the calculating Daphne, Cassie had to admit the woman looked like a perfect counterbalance on Blake’s arm.
Suddenly Cassie wished again for the safe familiarity of Twin Corners. It seemed the more she discovered of the world, the more she learned of its complexities. But then, back in Twin Corners there hadn’t been men like Blake Matthews to confuse all the boundaries. They’d had their share of small-town hunks in Twin Corners, but none of them had been packaged like him.
The man whose bedroom she now had to pass.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie reached for a stack of clean towels and the terry robe that sat beneath them. Opening her door cautiously and looking down the hall to make sure it was empty, she darted into the bathroom. Satisfied by her quick maneuver, she deposited the towels, peeled off her clothes, then stepped into the shower. The water quickly doused her body and hair, a refreshing spray that woke up her senses and had her humming. Feeling invigorated, she climbed out of the shower and reached for her robe. But it didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.
Cassie plowed through the stack of towels a half-dozen times, then searched the rest of the counter, and the floor. All that searching merely confirmed her sinking certainty that she’d forgotten her robe.
Wrapping a bath towel around her torso, tucking the ends at chest level beneath her arms, she desperately hoped that Blake was already downstairs. Taking another fortifying gulp of air, she flung open the door, intending to race down the hall.
Instead, she ran straight into Blake, nearly toppling them both in the process. Cassie’s fortified breath whooshed from her lungs as rapidly as the crimson spots that stained her cheeks appeared. Clutching the towel firmly, Cassie tried to find something, anything, to say, but for once her incredible gift of gab had run dry.
“I...” they both began, and then stopped suddenly.
“Go ahead....” they started again, in unison.
Cassie took the plunge, realizing as she spoke that she sounded completely witless. “My shower faucet is broken,” she offered feebly, unable to say much more as she watched Blake’s eyes darken as they roamed over her.
Blake cleared his throat, yet his words still sounded husky. “I know.”
“Of course. You told me to call a plumber, but it’s not easy getting a plumber. They all have waiting lists, and unless you’re royalty or a movie star, they won’t promise a thing. Not even an appointment, or a howdy-do. If I wanted to start a business here, it’d be plumbing. They must make a fortune—probably as much as a movie mogul. Lord, I’m babbling again, but then, I guess you could figure that out for yourself....” Cassie saw the slow smolder in Blake’s eyes and heard her words trail away.
His voice, still gruff, took up where she’d stopped. “Maybe you’ll have better luck today.”
“With what?” she asked dumbly.
“Getting a plumber,” he responded gently.
“Oh, yes. The plumber, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I waterlogged my brain.” She gestured helplessly at the long strands of wet hair. “And I forgot my shampoo. It’s in my bathroom, along with my robe. Normally I don’t go wandering the halls in...in just a towel.”
His gaze roved over her again, and suddenly she knew she wasn’t imagining the flare of attraction she saw in his eyes.
Silence fell between them, and Cassie struggled to fill it, knowing she had to turn his attention away from her. “I’d better hurry and get dressed, or the kids will eat Twinkies for breakfast.”
His gaze was still roaming over her, leaving a warm path. A path that threatened to leap into a full-fledged fire.
“That doesn’t sound so unappealing,” Blake responded, his eyes signaling what he
did
find appealing.
Feeling the beginnings of a blush, she answered quickly, rushing her words as she inched closer to her room. “But I doubt their teachers would appreciate a sugar high...from the Twinkies, I mean. I’d better get my...”
“Robe,” he finished for her.
“Uh...yes...my robe.”
She turned to flee, hurrying away.
Blake wasn’t sure how she managed it, but Cassie looked even sexier and more provocative in a towel than she had in that knockout swimsuit of hers. Especially with water beading over her slicked skin, creating fascinating rivulets that made him want to trace the path of each one with his lips.
It was a hell of a thing to wake up to. For a moment, he’d forgotten Cassie was his children’s nanny. His sense of what category of woman she fit into seemed to be getting fuzzier all the time.
In retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to install Cassie in the bedroom directly across from his. At the time, he’d thought the more traditional suite of rooms would be more comfortable for her and would ease the transition between their very different worlds. Children were more resilient. And they liked change, new adventures. To them the modern, high-tech house had been one of those fun new adventures. But he had suspected Cassie would be fighting homesickness.
Which was why her room was now directly across from his.
And the proximity was making him a little crazy. Looking at her closed bedroom door, he hoped from now on she planned to wear more than a towel when roaming the halls, a towel he itched to rip off. That, or she’d better take to carrying a big stick to club some sense into him.
 
GLANCING AT THE CLOCK, Cassie realized Blake should be home soon. She checked the hamper one more time. Everything they needed for a picnic in the park was there, except the cold drinks and fried chicken she planned to add at the last moment. She hoped Blake would go along with her impromptu picnic. In her opinion, the Matthews didn’t have enough family outings.
Wrapping freshly baked rolls in foil, she glanced up in surprise as the door to the kitchen swung open. “Decide you needed a break, Jimmy Ray? I figured you’d be on your computer.” She turned to the fridge, retrieving a bowl of freshly washed fruit. Offering him the fruit, she was surprised when he didn’t reach for any, instead shaking his head.
“Mama, can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” Seeing the troubled expression on his face, she felt a hitch of concern. “Something wrong?”
“Not exactly. Mama, do you like living here?”
She thought for a moment, considering her answer. “I like the Matthews. I like, the house. I think I’m even beginning to like L.A. Any special reason for wanting to know?”
“Are we going to stay here? You didn’t sound very sure the other night.”
Cassie wondered what was worrying her serious-minded child, now that their scare about the mortgage notes was past. “At least for a year. I signed a contract with Mr. Matthews, which you know he won’t let me break even if I want to. After that, we’ll have to see.” If her prayers were answered, she’d still have this one-in-a-million job—even if it meant putting all of her emotions on the line to do so. She gently ruffled his longish hair. “Are you missing Twin Corners?”
“Sort of. But I was thinking that if we’re going to be staying here, maybe I ought to fit in more.”
Puzzled, she cocked her head. “But you’re fitting in fine.”
“Not exactly. Kevin’s right, Mama. I only fit in with the computer geeks.”
“But I thought you loved your computer classes, and—”
“I do. It’s just that I’d like to fit in other places, like I did back home. And, well...”
Sensing there was something he was reluctant to confide, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell me.”
“It’s my name, Mama. Nobody here goes by two names. They shorten their first names till they’re almost nothing.”
“And having everyone call you Jimmy Ray is an albatross.”
“I didn’t mean that—”
“It’s okay. This
is
a different world from Twin Corners.” She bit back a stab of regret. With David John, she could dismiss his flippant new nickname, since he was only ten. But Jimmy Ray was fifteen. It was a more mature decision and, she suspected, a more lasting one. “So, what did you decide on?”
He hesitated. “What do you think of Jim?”
Very grown-up, very foreign. But she mustered a smile. “Sounds like a name that’ll fit in. You couldn’t get it any shorter, unless they just call you ‘J.’”
“You know the one guy who’s asked me to hang out—Brian—they call him ‘B.’ But he’s
really
popular...”
“And there’s no reason you won’t be, too. When the season starts, you’ll make more friends, being on the baseball team. And you’ve already been asked to join the yearbook staff.”
“I know, Mama.” Worry creased his adolescent brow. “But I don’t want you to think I’m like David John, just wanting to be cool. And I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten where we come from.”
“I think you’re a mature young man, and that you’ve given a lot of thought to this decision.” Her expression softened as she remembered the agonies, real and imagined, of being fifteen. “And I don’t think there’s much chance you’ll forget your roots. We’re going on a picnic for dinner.” She put a shiny apple in his hand. “This will keep you till then. You can try out your new name at dinner...Jim.”
He smiled, a flash of joy that turned him from somber to carefree in an instant. “Thanks, Mama.”
For a moment, she saw him as he’d been as a toddler, his bright, toothy grin, shiny curls and complete innocence. All that had changed. While she wouldn’t trade the wonderful young man he had become, she couldn’t help longing for those simpler, more naive days. “No problem,” she finally managed.
He rubbed the apple against his sleeve. “I can help you with supper.”
Although always helpful, he’d been inseparable from the computer unless he was at school or asleep. Touched, she realized there were advantages to his years, such as thoughtfulness. He was sensitive enough to realize that she might be upset or nostalgic about the name change.
“Dinner’s under control, but I could use your help loading the van. If Mr. Matthews agrees, I plan on a picnic, and we’ll need the tablecloth, blankets, cooler...”
Her voice trailed off when she saw Jimmy Ray’s grin. She smiled reluctantly in return. “I guess if you’re old enough to shorten your name, you’re old enough to figure out what we need on a picnic. Would you mind checking on David John and the twins? They’re in the pool and it’s about time for them to get out and get dressed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled open the back door, then paused and turned back around. “You’re the best, Mama.”
As he disappeared, Cassie felt a lump of gratitude thicken in her throat. She might not have the world, but she had the best kids in that world.
In a few minutes, the door opened again. Expecting Jimmy Ray, Cassie didn’t turn around. “You’d probably better put a few folding chairs in the van, too. The Matthews might not be used to sitting on the grass like we are.”
“I don’t know. I’ve sat on my share of grass.” Blake’s deep voice washed over her, and Cassie whirled in startled surprise.
“I thought you were Jimmy Ray.” As she felt the heat of embarrassment bloom in her cheeks; it was all Cassie could do not to throw her hands over her face to hide the telltale color.
But Blake was grinning. “I guessed as much. So where are we going that we’ll be sitting on the grass?”
“A picnic,” she blurted out. “That is...if you’re in agreement. I made fried chicken, potato salad and coleslaw. And I baked fresh rolls. Oh, and there’s a yellow cake with chocolate and Heath chip frosting. And fruit, too, so you won’t have a cholesterol attack. I know that’s important to you. That’s why the cake doesn’t have any eggs, the potato salad, either, and...” She saw the amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I guess I’m talking too much again.”
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