Redemption (16 page)

“Huh. Well, then maybe you should figure out where she went.” Miranda nodded in the direction of their table. “She grabbed her coat and left.”

Bryan’s eyes darted to the door. He glared at Miranda. “How long ago?”

“Oh, a while. But you told me to keep quiet, so...” she shrugged, feigning innocence.

“She went outside,” Derek said, walking toward them and frowning at Miranda. “Calm down, Roemer. It’s not like she’ll jump ship and swim ashore.”

“Thanks, man,” Bryan said, and for the first time, he was able to feel something other than loathing for Derek Gainnes.

He strode across the room and stopped, one hand on the door. He saw her standing by the railing, looking out at the water, shivering. Something had propelled her outside, and part of him wished it had been because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. That seeing him with Miranda had made her so angry she had to step away to compose herself.

Bryan imagined walking toward her, reaching for her, and finally giving in to his desire. Finally feeling her lips against his, her body pressed against his.

But that wasn’t reality for them. He’d have to settle for pretending, because that was as close to Cassidy Baker as he’d ever get. The truth was, she was probably just taking a break from him and all of his drama.

He stepped out into the frigid air. “Cassidy?” he called.

Don’t turn around. Don’t answer. Don’t let him see you.

“Yes?” She forced the trembling from her voice.

“What are you doing out here?” Bryan asked.

Hiding from you.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. “Just getting some air.”

“Aren’t you freezing?” He was closer now. His voice sounded only a few feet away.

Cassidy shook her head and silently wished for a bigger boat. One that would make it harder for him to reach her. Maybe the Titanic. No, not that one. But something big like it that wouldn’t, you know, sink. She was doing a good job of sinking all on her own.

She felt the air around her warm by several degrees. Maybe if she focused on a building or that darn Statue of Liberty it would help. Unlikely, but it was worth a try. She felt him stop right behind her, breathing became difficult, and she began to shake. Cassidy stuffed her hands as far into her pockets as she could without ripping them.

Pull yourself together, woman,
she scolded herself.

When he put his hands on her shoulders to rub them, she thought she might die.

When he gently turned her so they stood face to face, she knew she would die.

Bryan lifted her chin with one finger. “Hey,” he said softly.

The wind picked up, making her shiver. It had nothing to do with his eyes and how they bore into her. Or the way it felt when he touched her. Or the fact that he was such an astonishingly handsome man. She fought the impulse to trace the outlines of his face and run her fingers through his hair. None of this was good. It was only going to get her hurt.

Cassidy did her best to smile at him. “Hey.”

“Tired of being my date for the night? I thought we were going to dance,” he said, cocking his head to side and giving her a smile dripping with charm.

Crap.

“You seemed otherwise engaged,” she said, letting out a slow breath. “Did you have a good talk with her?”

“Not particularly. Miranda was never very good at minding her own business. Would you like to hear about it?”

Not really.

Cassidy tried to look supportive. She was good at ignoring her feelings for the sake of someone else’s. “Sure. Love to.”

He placed his hands on her waist and began to sway slowly to some song only he could apparently hear. From what Cassidy could tell, the DJ had some crazy dance music on inside. She moved along with him but narrowed her eyes, suspicious of what he was up to. Maybe Miranda was watching them, and he wanted to make her wish she’d chosen him over Derek. Maybe Derek was watching, and he wanted him to see just how over Miranda he pretended to be. Maybe he was just cold.

“Well,” he began, his tone unfamiliar, “she seems to think something is going on between us.”

“I guess the plan worked then, huh?” She let out a nervous laugh. “I’m a better actress than I thought. Maybe I should join you out there in California.”

He only continued to look into her eyes, intense and focused. She’d been cold a minute ago, but under the weight of that stare her entire body heated up to the point she felt a bit feverish. She swallowed hard and thought of ice cubes or snow. Anything that might cool the temperature she felt continuing to rise.

Bryan slid his hands from her waist around to her back, pulling her closer. “You’re freezing, come here.” he said. He could never really have her, but for now, he could imagine that this night was real. That tomorrow they’d still be together. That she loved him.

“Well, I, uh...ok.” Cassidy was confused.

“We have an audience,” he whispered, bending close to her face. “What should we do about that?”

Was he being serious? And how was she supposed to think, much less form coherent sentences, with his mouth that tantalizingly close to hers.

He continued their dance, never taking his eyes off her. He cupped her face with his hands and moved closer still.

Oh...he’s going to kiss me,
she thought.

Cassidy pushed away from him and turned her back to him, looking out at the water. Anything to avoid direct contact. She was dangerously close to giving in, even knowing that this was all just part of a game. The possibility of kissing him was just too tempting.

He stood so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t have to. Every nerve in her body was standing on end. Cassidy crossed her arms and put a hand to her mouth. Would it be terrible of her to kiss him? They were supposed to be on a date, and that’s what dates do. He had that other woman back in California, and he had Miranda inside. His heart was already very full of women, and Cassidy knew that there was no room left for her.

Still, they were just pretending, and she was helping him out. One little kiss wouldn’t destroy her.

Cassidy turned around to face Bryan. She wrapped her arms around his neck, nudging him toward her, and, reaching up on tiptoes, kissed him. There was no hesitation from him, not even for a fraction of a second. As his arms tightened around her waist and drew her even closer, more deeply into the kiss, Cassidy found her head swimming. When their lips parted, she met his eyes and shrugged one shoulder.

“Might as well make it believable,” she said.

He looked momentarily sad before responding, “Absolutely. Whatever it takes. Are you willing to up the ante in this game we’re playing?”

“Depends,” Cassidy began, “up it to what, exactly?”

“Just follow my lead,” he said, smirking. Five days. He could have five days of Cassidy and her world. He would find a way to make that enough.

W
ith Cassidy in his arms, Bryan felt some cosmic piece of the puzzle that was his life falling into place. He’d never considered himself to be a religious person, but right now he felt like saying one, giant prayer of thanks to whoever might be up there. She was more than he could ever be worthy of, and he would find a way to make these stolen moments with her last well after he’d returned to his harsh reality. She stood against the railing, facing him, still waiting for an answer. They had to go back inside, but he didn’t want to release her. If it wasn’t so awfully cold, he wouldn’t move from this spot until the boat docked.

“Up it to what?” she repeated, pulling his arms tighter around her waist and rubbing them, whether for added support or to warm him, even she wasn’t sure. “Bryan?” She tapped his arm.

“Come on,” Bryan said. “Let’s get back inside and find a quiet corner where we can warm you up.”

“They’re going to ask questions,” she said, suddenly nervous.

“Yes,” he agreed, “they are.”

She bit her lip. “What do we say?”

Bryan released her hand and cupped her face, peering deeply into her eyes. “You worry too much, Cass,” he said. “I’ll handle it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miranda watching from the table. For good measure, he kissed the tip of Cassidy’s frozen nose. He grinned when Miranda scowled.

With each step that brought them closer to the table and eight staring eyes, Cassidy was more sure that her worries were warranted. She tried to read their faces, anticipating the reactions she and Bryan would get. Most of them looked surprised, or annoyed. Nick looked very unhappy.

“Guys,” she said when they came to a stop at the table.

Nick’s eyes moved down to their intertwined fingers. He arched a brow.

“All right. Let’s just put everyone’s curiosity to rest, shall we?” Bryan said. “Yes, it happened quickly. Yes, you’ll probably think it’s crazy. But, we don’t care. We’re going to see where this thing goes, so here we are, together. Get used to it.” He held up their interlocked hands for all to get a close look at before pulling Cassidy away to dance.

“That was direct,” she mumbled.

He laughed. “I’m a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy.”

“Follow your lead, huh?”

“Well, Cass, let’s just see how much fun we can have with this thing.” Bryan lifted her arm above her head and spun Cassidy onto the dance floor.

 

Nick scowled. “I don’t like it.”

“Oh, get over it,” Carrie said, sighing. “You act like you’re everyone’s big brother. I love that you have that quality, but sometimes, you just need to trust that people can take care of themselves.”

“Bryan? Take care of himself?” he asked. “Until today, he was falling apart. One shave and a nice suit don’t fix the problem, Carr.”

“It was pretty fast,” Miranda mumbled. She avoided Derek’s gaze and went back to pulling apart a piece of bread that sat uneaten on her plate.

“Okay, so if he hurts her, you beat the crap outta him,” Derek said, raising his glass to his lips, very much desiring to be done with any conversation about Bryan Roemer.

Nick’s gaze returned to the dance floor. “I wanted him here so we could save him from whatever evil was carving him into little pieces. I didn’t want him here for
this
.”

“What?” Derek asked, coughing on the wine that had gotten stuck in his throat.

“Nick has this idea that if Bryan doesn’t stay near us, he’s going to get, quite literally, eaten alive,” Carrie answered. It was obvious that she thought Nick was overreacting to whatever gave him that feeling.

Derek waited before responding to that. After what he experienced with Miranda, he learned not to ignore statements like these. “What makes you think that?”

Nick wasn’t sure how to explain it. “I don’t know. I almost hear a voice telling me that he needs our help. Maybe it’s the Spirit? Maybe it’s just my imagination.”

“No, wait a minute, Nick,” Miranda said, jumping in. “I had a dream the other night. Tell me what you think is after him.” She frowned. If Bryan was in danger, it was going to take a little more than a perky blonde to save him.

Carrie put up her hands, shaking her head. “Whoa you three. I’m a firm believer in spiritual warfare and all, but you sound like you’re taking this to a whole new level. Like the level where the crazies all hang out.”

“Carr, don’t doubt just because you haven’t seen it.” Miranda swallowed hard. It was happening again. “When Jerry was after me, I had those dreams, remember?”

“Yeah,” she began, “just like you always have. I agreed when you said they came from God. So?”

“So, I started to see things, with the dreams.”

Carrie squinted. “What kinds of
things?
” First her fiance, now her friends?

Miranda looked to Derek, who nodded for her to continue. “Angels.”

“You see angels. Okay, now you sound like that kid in
The Sixth Sense
,” Carrie said sarcastically.

“It’s true, Carr. She’s not the only one,” Derek replied. “Psalm 91? We all have them. Sometimes it’s just harder for people to recognize them.”

“Oh, I’m on board with the whole guardian angel thing. But, seeing them? I suppose you can see them now?” Carrie asked, clearly struggling.

“No, it’s not like I have magic eyes or something, but they do appear to us,” Miranda explained. She still hadn’t figured out the why and when of seeing Vizhun. Despite her comment to Carrie, she wondered...shouldn’t she be able to see him all the time now?

Nick leaned forward on both arms, very interested. “I believe you. About two months ago, this guy walked right up to me while I was waiting in line at the store. He made small talk for a bit, then handed me a magazine. He commented on a photo and said that he hoped the photographer would make it. His exact words, ‘make it’. I thought that he meant, you know, becoming famous or something. But his tone was weird and left me feeling really creeped out. When I looked at the byline, it was one of Bryan’s,” he paused. “Then the guy was just gone. After that, I started to have this persistent feeling like Bryan was in danger.”