her working on his family’s home.
“Why don’t the three of you talk it over,” she hedged. “I’ll go back to my office, check in with my partners, see what the schedule looks like. I know you’re going to want this project to move fast if you hope to open for the season in—when was it?”
“June,” Frankie said. “If you started around the first of December, you’d have seven months.”
Sean came back, Vuitton duffel bags and suitcases hanging off him like he was a bellboy.
“I still can’t believe how much stuff you pack,” he said as he headed to the back door. “Gray, you sure you know what you’re in for, signing on for one of these fashion types?”
“I’m buying a trolley,” the man said as he tucked his new wife under his arm.
“Good idea. It’s either that or a back brace.” Sean shot Cass a wink as he went on by. “Now let’s do it, beautiful.”
The assembled masses filed outside with Ernest leading the way. Libby went with them, no doubt to catch the dog before he tore off.
Cass stayed behind, swallowing through a dry throat.
She couldn’t leave without one last look at Alex.
Lifting her eyes, she met his own. They were what she expected. Cool. Remote.
“I hope everything goes well for you tomorrow at the doctor’s,” she said.
He nodded once. “Thanks.”
It’s you, Miracle. It’s truly you.
Please. Touch me. Just once more.
I love you ….
Who is your woman, she thought as she stared at him. And where is she when you’re going through this hell? Why are you alone now?
She cleared her throat. “Look, I don’t want you to feel awkward about saying no. You know, about me working on your family’s house. I wanted to give you an out, which was why I suggested—”
“I’m a big boy. If I don’t like something, I’m perfectly capable of letting people know it.”
“Oh, of course.” As if she needed a reminder that he didn’t like women who mothered him.
“Something else on your mind, Cassandra?” he said softly.
The back door opened. Sean put his head inside.
“Yo, Cass. I’ve got a meeting at Rhodes Lewis this afternoon. We’ve got to move.”
“On a Sunday?” she blurted.
“You know me, twenty-four seven. Come on, woman.” The door banged shut.
When she looked back at Alex, she was glad she was leaving. His eyes had turned dangerous.
“Better run along,” he drawled. “Your friend’s obviously the impatient type.”
The word friend was pronounced more like lover, she thought. And his disapproval would have freeze-dried an open flame.
He obviously thought she was seeing Sean, and that it was way too soon after Reese’s death for her to be with another man, but she wasn’t going to waste time correcting the misconception. Given his tight face, she wasn’t going to change his mind without working him over with a chisel and a hammer.
“Goodbye, Alex,” she whispered.
He said nothing.
As she left the house, she was quite convinced she was never going to see him again.
Somehow the pain of the loss was stunning.
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