Stripped Down (14 page)

“Just...” His eyes widened. He’d started to say “happy.” It had been right there, on the tip of his tongue, and he’d almost said it.

Darcy’s eyes warmed. She knew. Somehow, she knew. “I’m happy for you, baby. I’ll be even happier when you tell her the truth.”

“Soon,” he promised, backing toward the booth.

Slipping into this seat again, he reached over and touched Cass’s clasped hands. “This is my friend’s mom. I’d like you to meet her.”

Cass’s gaze snapped to his. “Okay.”

Darcy set water glasses in front of them and smiled, clearly waiting for the introduction.

Eric’s mouth was so dry he could have applied for drought-disaster relief from FEMA. He took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “Darcy Maxwell, may I introduce you to Cass Wheeler. Cass, Darcy is one of my closest friends’ mother and the best cook anywhere.”

Darcy stroked a hand down his head and squeezed his neck.

Affection or warning?
He wasn’t sure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Cass.”

“The same, Mrs. Maxwell.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. Just Darcy. I haven’t been a missus in more than a decade.”

Eric caught the dark memories that flitted through Darcy’s eyes. The urge to swoop in and protect her was as rampant as it was impossible to satisfy. Darcy wouldn’t allow anyone to save her.

Cass’s smile was soft, compassionate. “I’m sorry I touched on something painful. Please, forgive me.”

Hands tightening in his lap, Eric could only stare.
She saw Darcy’s pain, too.
Damn observant woman.
And even being a veritable stranger, Cass had found the right words, short and simple, to offer heartfelt condolences.

The older woman touched Cass’s shoulder. “Thank you, Cass. The cost of love is sometimes dear, but I’d rather have loved him all those years than never at all.”

It was the most Eric had ever heard Darcy say about her husband, and the longing in her voice made his heart hurt.

“That’s a lovely sentiment, Darcy. I envy you having memories so wildly precious that even time and heartache can’t diminish them.”

Darcy squeezed Cass’s shoulder and sniffed, grabbing a napkin from the napkin holder to dab at damp eyes. “Look at me. Sixteen years and I still get weepy. It’s just...that’s the most beautiful, insightful thing anyone has said to me.”

“Please, don’t cry.” Cass grabbed another napkin and passed it to the woman with a genuine smile. “I have highly sympathetic tear ducts as well as a professional reputation for being a coldhearted bitch. The two can’t coexist, so please, no tears.”

Darcy glanced between him and Cass. “No one who cries for a stranger could be coldhearted, Cass. May the truth of who you are serve you well.”

Eric caught the subversive jab and fielded it with as much grace as he could manage. That was, unfortunately, not much. But he’d brought Cass here to get Darcy’s opinion of her, and she’d been clear in what she thought of his date. It made him feel better, validated even, in his desire to trust her with the truth. That conversation was for later, though. Now? Now was time for a little fun. “Hungry, Cass? Everything in the bakery tower is one of Darcy’s creations, and every one of them is capable of making you commit crimes to get seconds.” She laughed, and his breath hung in his chest.

Cass’s laughter faded until she was staring at him with quiet reserve.

He reached out and took her hand, lifting it to his lips for a soft kiss. “How do you feel about chocolate crème pie? It’s a religious experience.”

“I suddenly feel like praying.”

He grinned. “Chocolate crème pie for the princess, then.” Her hand spasmed in his and he looked at her carefully. “Everything okay?”

“I’m just excited about the pie.”

He’d missed something, but he didn’t have a freaking clue what it was.

Darcy arched a brow. “Slice or whole pie?”

“Whole pie to go,” he said softly. Tonight was going to be a seduction, and damn if he could get his groove on in front of the woman he considered a surrogate mother.

Hunger, the kind Eric wanted to coax to flame, flared in Cass’s eyes.

His cell phone rang. Of all the times in the world...

Letting Cass go, he pulled it out and checked the number, recognizing it immediately. “Sorry. This is the day job. Give me a second.” Swiping the screen, he answered the call. “Hey, Dan. What have you got going on in the middle of the night, my friend?”

His chief financial officer’s voice vibrated with energy. “Thought you’d want to know I’ve heard the EPA approved the Chok Resort proposal from the environmental engineers.”

Eric’s stomach went into free fall. “You’re freaking kidding me. How the hell did you find out?”

“You know Jason in accounting?”

“Yeah?”

“His sister is dating a guy who works in their surveying department.”

“And you trust his information?”

“I had Jason call his sister to confirm. It’s bad news, Eric.”

The free fall reached terminal velocity. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“I won’t. Hell, I
can’t.
” Dan took a deep breath. “The approval’s in, but the engineer’s plan is over budget.”

“By how much?” Eric choked out.

“I don’t have actual figures, only estimates. But it’s a million plus.”

He wanted to puke. Swallowing the rising bile, he forced himself to relax his grip on the phone. “And you’re telling me this in the middle of the night because...”

“Because I just found out and wanted you to know.” Dan snorted. “Bullshit. I wanted to share the misery. I have no idea where we’re going to get the money, Eric. We’re tapped out with the investors and the board isn’t going to pony up any more cash. We’re screwed if we don’t sort this out.”

“Keep that between us,” Eric said, his voice low and tight, controlled. “You don’t repeat that to anyone. Jameson will be stalking around like the damned jackal he is, waiting for a chance to steal this project. I need this deal, Dan.
We
need this deal. If we don’t get the funding, we’re—”

“Dalton?” Darcy’s hand rested on his arm. “You okay, sweetie?”

He glanced over. “I’m good.”

“Did she just call you Dalton?” Dan asked.

Panic slammed into him, forcing him to dig for yet another lie. “Good friend of the family. She calls me by my middle name when I’m in trouble. We’ll discuss this first thing Monday morning. Thanks for the heads-up.”

Disconnecting, he turned back to the table to find Cass watching him, brows drawn. He sat down across from her and, hand shaking slightly, took a sip of water. “Sorry about that.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Major setback with the day job. It’s all going to work itself out.”

“Must be major for you to take a call in the middle of the night. What do you do during the day?”

Eric paused before setting his water glass down gently. Time to put his money where his mouth was. “I’m an entrepreneur. I’ve got a business I’m trying to get off the ground. There’s a project I’ve bid on. Seems I’ve won the bid and the right to move ahead, but there are complications we’d hoped to avoid. Dan, the guy who called, is my CFO. He thought I needed to know sooner rather than later that the meeting we’ve got later this week is going to be a bitch.”

“You have dedicated employees if they’re working in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah. I’m lucky.”
Or not.
Not if he considered the money he had to secure to keep the business afloat. He swallowed convulsively.

“Do you have to go handle whatever it is?”

His head snapped up. “No. There’s nothing I can do until Monday. Tonight is about us.”

“Us, huh? What are we then, Dalton?”

“We’re potential with an unknown variable thrown in for excitement.”

“I love unknown variables.”

“Handy, that. So do I.” He shifted and laced their fingers together, the move so natural he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Her skin was petal soft. The way her hair hung loose and full made him want to bury his hands in it and kiss her again. He knew what her skin tasted like beneath the fit and finish she presented the world, and he wanted that taste on his tongue again, all feminine and soft.

“Let me box that pie up,” Darcy murmured, moving away from the table.

Heat burned across Cass’s cheeks. “Why do I get the impression that you’re undressing me in your mind?”

He nipped her knuckles. “Because I am.”

Her hand twitched then settled. “Fair enough.”

“How’s that fair?” His grin was immediate as the pieces fell into place. “Unless you’re doing the same.”

“Give the man a prize...or pie,” she whispered, voice as sultry as sex-fueled sin.

Lust punched a wrecking ball–size hole through his thin veneer of control. He leaned forward to take her mouth.

Darcy slid the pie box between them. “On the house.”

Eric collapsed in his seat and pulled out his wallet.

“That means ‘free,’ sweetheart,” Darcy insisted.

“I get the concept, but there’s still the matter of your tip.” He dropped a twenty on the table. “Thanks, Mama D.”

“You don’t go dropping a twenty for two glasses of water and a few words of conversation,” she said primly. “Take that money and go on.”

“You can pick it up or not, but I’m leaving it.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he stood. “Darcy.”

“Oh, you’re a stubborn child.” She snatched the twenty and shoved it in her apron pocket. “You’ll come over for dinner?”

“Soon,” he promised, picking up the pie box and offering Cass a hand.

“This week.” Darcy pulled him into a fierce hug that defied her tiny stature.

“This week, then.”

She winked. “Enjoy the pie.” Spinning on her heel, she snatched the coffeepot off the counter burner and moved to a nearby table, chatting up the diners as she went.

“She’s a remarkable woman.”

Eric looked down at Cass. “She is. I tend to be drawn to them.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“There’s only one place I want to be.”

She glanced up at him through thick lashes. “And where’s that?”

“With you, behind closed doors.”

“Apparently I’m your genie in a bottle because I can grant that wish.”

If Eric had any delusions that his grin was anything other than wicked, the hunger on her face would have dispelled it.

She shrugged into her jacket and took the pie while he did the same.

He moved in close and framed her face with his hands. Closing the distance, he kissed her, long and slow.

She responded with a sigh, opening to him and trying to move closer despite the pie box.

He broke the kiss and, stroking a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips, worked to control his breathing. He may not have given her his real name, but he had made an effort to bring his two worlds together, and she’d fit into both of them. Maybe there was something to this trust thing. “Lucky me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve still got two more wishes.”

11

T
HE TRIP TO
D
ALTON’S
house was relatively quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet, but rather a companionable silence that left Cass relaxed and slightly cathartic despite the sexually charged atmosphere. Dalton’s presence provided comfort after the stress of the dinner with her father and the situation with the leak from inside Preservations. She wanted to curl up with Dalton and let him hold her. They’d get to that, she was sure—after the movie he’d promised. And pie. Glancing down at the crème-covered delicacy, her stomach rumbled.

Dalton glanced at her and smiled. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re hungry.”

She turned to stare out the passenger window of her car. The world passed by, sleeping households full of strangers who couldn’t care less that she’d had a shitty night. They had their own lives to wrangle. Then there was Dalton. Confusing, alluring, challenging Dalton. He’d given her another piece to the Dalton puzzle tonight, and he’d want more of her in return. But could she give it to him?

He rested a hand on her thigh, her dress having ridden up to expose the bare skin. “Cass? Did you eat tonight?”

Shaking her head, she glanced at him. “No.”

“Why not? I thought you were having dinner with your father.”

The snort that escaped her was anything but ladylike. “I was invited to dinner. That doesn’t mean I was invited to eat.”

His brow furrowed as he pulled his hand away to shift gears, navigating a series of residential twists and turns. “I don’t get it. Dinner usually implies eating.”

“You’d think.” Letting her head fall back against the headrest, she closed her eyes. “Dinner with my family isn’t ever simple. The appetizer is typically snark with a side of sarcasm, the main course is always parental disappointment seasoned liberally with guilt, and dessert is never complete without a full serving of derision.”

“I’m probably going to hate myself for asking this, but how did you end up so amazingly balanced and, well, normal?”

“It was the biggest ‘screw you’ I could deliver to my parents.”

“Ah, the equivalent of the after-dinner mint.”

Shocked, she turned to face him and laughed out loud at the benign look on his face. “I’ll have to remember that.”

His full lips tipped up at the corners as they passed under a series of streetlights, the effect almost strobelike. “Yeah, well, I’m famous for my witty repartee.” He ran a hand through his hair, shooting her a quick glance. “Did anyone else show up for the un-dinner?”

“There was a former... Hmm.” Biting her bottom lip, she tried to decide how much to say—again. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him about the confrontation with Marcus because he had scared her, and fear was just another weakness. But Dalton wasn’t someone she was facing across a boardroom. He was someone she was fast relying on for comfort and understanding. One of a very few. She shifted onto her hip and faced the man who was fast stealing her heart. “Yes, there was. Remember the roses? The guy who sent them was there. We’ve been on a couple of dates, but that’s all. He’s made it clear he’d be interested in more—much more. I’m not. He met me outside and got a little aggressive about us. Me and you, that is.”