The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (3 page)

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"I'm still trying to find out what a man has to do to elicit a name."

Cassie now regretted that she could not read his expression. They were close, but he was a whole head taller than she was. She couldn't understand his need to prolong the encounter. She placed a hand on her hip, ready for any challenge he had to offer. He would not intimidate her. "You want a fair exchange? Then give me something I couldn't resist." Hoping to catch him off guard, she quickly reached for the glasses but he moved them easily into his other hand.

"Hmm." He tapped her glasses against his chin. "How about strawberries dipped in chocolate fondue served with a light dry wine?"

She paused. The man was good. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes in playful accusation. "You've been reading my diary, haven't you?"

He slowly smiled. "No, otherwise I would already know what your name is."

"My name is Cassie and it just so happens that the other day I wrote that the first man who offered me strawberries dipped in chocolate would be the father of my children."

He thought about this, then nodded. "We'll have three of course."

She grinned at his solemn tone. "And just what is the name of my children's father?"

"Drake Henson."

"Drake Henson." She tasted the name in her mouth, then nodded in approval. "Yes, that will do."

"And all our children will enjoy food as much as we do."

"I'm not sure. As you can very well tell, that's a fault of mine."

His voice lowered and she could feel his eyes skimming her figure. "From where I'm standing, I see no faults at all."

Cassie swallowed. It had to be the heat that sent the trickle of sweat gliding down her back. It was a hot day after all. "That's where you have me at a disadvantage. I can't see you at all."

"Hmm, I suppose our delightful companionship will end once you discover I have no teeth and one eye."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not that blind. The fact that you have teeth is something I can see."

"Here." He put the glasses on her face. His fingers brushed against her cheeks, sending jolts of awareness through her body.

"Thank you." She glanced up at him and froze.

She had indeed crossed paths with a mythical charmer. His eyes were the color of hot amber, gazing at her intensely, which made her wish she had stayed on her cottage cheese diet just one more week. He wasn't classically handsome. His jaw was too harsh as if life had not always been kind, and although he did not look older than thirty-six, gray was fighting through his black hair with vicious determination.

He was dynamic. A ball of sexual potency. A man that should be served on top of a banana split and eaten with great enjoyment. His smile was more sensuous than wicked, more inviting than taunting, and it drew her like a beacon. His long eyelashes half shielded his eyes as he casually stood watching her. His jeans hung low on his hips, leaving plenty to admire of his upper torso. She must be hallucinating from the fall and the heat, he couldn't be the man she had been so boldly flirting with.

She had flirted with a lot of men, but something about this one made her feel uneasy.

She took a quick step back, dusting off her trousers as an excuse not to look at him. "I'm sorry I ruined your game."

"You didn't. I still caught the ball." His wicked grin turned smug. He took a step toward her, his voice lowering. "Umm... since you like to eat..."

"Yes," she readily agreed, annoyed that he felt the need to mention that. She could easily bury her face in banana cream pudding right now. "Yes. I do and as I said, it shows. I don't have the athletic aptitude of some. It's a good thing I didn't land on top of you. I could have flattened you like a Swedish pancake." She expected him to laugh. People usually did, but he frowned instead. Cassie sighed. Didn't the guy have a sense of humor? "I'm sorry for this... this inconvenience, but I really must go."

"No, wait." Drake grasped her arm as she turned, but immediately let go when she looked up at him startled and annoyed. He couldn't understand why the warm, sexy woman was now looking at him with something akin to dislike. Where had he gone wrong? He knew if she gave him a chance, he could explain it. "Give me a minute. I want to talk to you. I'll be right back. Wait here."

He was a man obviously used to obedience. Instead of waiting for her to agree, he turned and walked to his companions.

Cassie stared at him, watching the easy grace with which he moved, how the muscles in his back worked like a well-oiled machine when he folded his arms. He started to talk to his companions, and one man in shorts and a shirt that read
Sports King
glanced in Cassie's direction with disbelief. She didn't want to imagine what Drake was saying about her. Probably congratulating himself on such an easy conquest. She glanced away and saw an old woman who looked like a colored negative. Everything was pink. From her pompadour hair, high-heeled shoes, and upscale clothing to the poodle she was walking. Cassie started to laugh; she needed to laugh. Wasn't life absurd?

The woman briefly looked in her direction, shaking her head in a tut-tut manner, and walked away. Cassie sighed, sobering. Who was she to laugh at anyone? She knew she looked a mess. She was a normally tidy person and could only imagine what she looked like. He must be secretly laughing at her. A chubby woman offering to have his children over chocolate-covered strawberries. How amusing. She shrugged. She was used to it, but today she had better things to do than be a source of entertainment. She glanced at the group once more, then turned and fled.

* * *

She grimaced at her reflection as she stood in the restroom of the Golden Diner. Granted the lighting was poor, but she still looked worse than she had imagined. Her blouse was stained; dirt was on her cheek and clung to her glasses. Her hair was similar to that of a porcupine. The man definitely didn't have a sense of humor. When she had seen her reflection, she laughed so hard the woman at the sink next to her stared at her with a worried frown.

Cassie washed her face, tried to attack the grass stains that stubbornly decided to cling to her clothing, and then combed back her hair. She looked at her reflection again. It was an improvement, although a small one. She put on some lipstick and left to meet her friend.

They usually met at the Golden Diner for lunch. The place was called a diner because of its easygoing atmosphere; the word
golden
was added because of the prices. Only successful professionals could afford to frequent the cozy DC restaurant. It was imperative to look one's best, which was why her friend Adriana gaped in horror as Cassie approached the table.

"You're filthy!" she cried.

Cassie tossed down her purse and sighed. "There is no need to exaggerate."

Adriana had been her best friend since grade school. Both knew how it felt to survive the wilds of the rich suburbs while living with island parents who wanted to keep traditional ways. On a number of occasions, Cassie had organized Adriana's escapes so that they could attend parties, and Adriana, in turn, found ways to handle Cassie's overly critical mother. Their backgrounds were similar—good schools and good families—but in appearance they were opposites.

While Cassie had grown from cute chubby kid into cute chubby adult, Adriana had metamorphosed into a tall, svelte woman. She had dark brown eyes and purple-black hair that fell to her shoulders in silky curls, and a sensuous mouth that had men panting when she used it appropriately. She was not beautiful, but interesting, and that was enough to gain men's attention. Today she looked casually elegant in cream trousers, a white blouse, which offset her coffee skin, a pearl choker, and large gold hoop earrings.

"Why are you dirty?" she amended.

"I accidentally walked into a football game and was tackled."

Adriana winced. "Sounds painful."

"It was." To both her body and her pride.

"Hi, ladies," the waitress greeted. The young woman wore what the Golden Diner considered a uniform: Purple fluorescent top and skirt, clunky black shoes, and cap. She held a tray expertly in one hand as she tried to adjust the cap that was falling over her eyes. Cassie's stomach grumbled, reminding her of the grapefruit she had eaten for breakfast.

"What happened?" she asked, staring at Cassie.

"Long story. If you're willing to feed me, I might tell you all about it."

"I'd love to hear it, but I don't have the time." The waitress placed a plate of food in front of Adriana. Cassie glanced at her friend, confused that food would already arrive when they hadn't yet placed their orders.

"I ordered for us. My treat," Adriana explained as the waitress placed a grilled chicken sandwich, French fries, and coleslaw in front of Cassie.

She groaned, remembering Drake's breathtaking physique, and stared at the curvaceous woman in front of her with a brief stab of envy. "Great! The perfect food for a woman on a diet."

Adriana paused with a French fry midway in her mouth. "You had better not be."

"I'm not. Just thought about it." There was no need to mention the cottage cheese diet.

Adriana thoughtfully munched on her fries, then shook her head. "I don't believe in diets."

"That's because you don't have to."

"The problem is you're living in America. In another country you'd be a prized possession."

Cassie rolled her eyes. Somehow, they always came to this conversation. Adriana was convinced that she would be a beauty elsewhere. The problem was she wasn't elsewhere. "Yes, I'd make a perfect sacrifice. I'd keep the fire burning."

Adriana frowned. "Not funny."

"I'm sorry." She wasn't, but said it anyway so that she could drop the subject. She took a bite of her sandwich. Unfortunately, the bite was too big, which she usually did when annoyed, and she ended up maneuvering her food so that she wouldn't choke.

"So why were you walking into football games?"

Cassie swallowed with difficulty, then took a gulp of her drink. "Timothy sent me flowers," she explained. "Red roses to be exact."

Adriana swore.

"Exactly," Cassie agreed. "You'd think after a year he'd get the hint, but he always was a slow learner. He refuses to believe that we're really divorced and that I'm completely over him."

"Yes, of course." Adriana held her nose in the air and affected the tone of a snotty socialite. "How could
anyone
get over Timothy Milton the Third, heir to the Milton Furniture chain, Ivy league graduate, and all-out ass—"

"That's enough," Cassie said before her friend warmed to the subject "Although I agree with you, it only makes me sound jealous calling him names all the time." She didn't think it necessary to talk about the number of choice words she had used when the flowers had arrived.

Adriana tapped her foot, her brows furrowed. "I'll never forgive myself for not shooting him when I had the chance. You know how I feel about controlling the rodent population. You have to get rid of them before they reproduce."

"It was a shame the rat poison didn't work," Cassie teased.

Adriana shook her head mournfully. "You didn't use enough."

Cassie laughed. "I deserved what I got anyway. I was so flattered when he chose me over you that I didn't think." She had met him after she had survived a crash diet that caused her to lose her hair. Consequently, she had gained the weight back and her hair grew back as thin as new grass—she felt like a Chia Pet. As a result, she had eagerly accepted his attention. Timothy had looked so handsome and refined that first night she had met him. Any woman's dream—her ultimate nightmare.

"I wasn't surprised that he had good taste. Most jerks do. So what did you do with the flowers?"

"Set them on a grave site."

Adriana nodded in approval. "Too bad it's not his own. Are you sure you don't want me to have my brothers talk to him?"

Cassie knew what her friend meant by talk. Adriana had two older brothers who were very skilled in primitive rhinoplasty and orthopedic surgery. They had developed their skill on playgrounds and back alleys when their classmates made the unwise decision to tease them about their accents or foreign manners. Cassie and Adriana were spared from any teasing because of that.

Cassie shook her head. "When I want him physically harmed, I'll let you know. I can handle him."

"When you can't handle him, let me know." Adriana pointed a manicured nail at her. "So have you gotten your seminar speech all set? I can't wait to hear it."

"You're still coming?" Cassie asked in disbelief. She squirted ketchup into her plate. "You've already heard what I am going to say at least a hundred times."

Adriana waved that fact away in a dismissive gesture. "So what? First, it's great for business." Adriana owned several lingerie boutiques and Cassie's seminars sent women running into them. "Second, I love to hear you speak and watch the way you capture an audience. Sometimes I forget that you're the same woman."

Cassie swirled a fry into the ketchup and smiled with triumph. "Ah, then Cassandra has succeeded."

Adriana frowned. "I don't see why you have to be two different people."

"It's the illusion that counts." She swept her hand through the air. "The presentation is of the utmost importance. Nobody would look at me now and think I could teach them how to be seductive." She stared down at herself. "Especially not now. They would expect me to do a comedy routine. Cassandra is more convincing. I just—" She stopped and stared at the entrance of the diner.

A man stood there like a giant shadow with a sliver of sunlight peeking behind him, giving shape to his massive form. When he stepped into the light—tall, virile, and real, like a shadow transferring from one world into another—he glanced around the restaurant as if he was looking for someone. Instinctively, Cassie knew who that was.

She squeezed into the corner of her booth, her heart pounding so quickly she was afraid it would leap from her chest and run. "I have to hide."

Adriana stared at her, baffled by her friend's behavior. "What is wrong with you?"