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One Touch
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Liquid Silver Books
www.liquidsilverbooks.com
Copyright ©2004 Susie Charles
First Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge, August, 2004
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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Published by Liquid Silver Books, Imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana. Copyright 2004, Susie Charles. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the authors.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Chapter One
"You're going to be my bridesmaid, and that's all there is to it, Cassandra Grant, so don't think you can weasel out of it."
"I'm not ‘weaselling’ as you put it.” Cass flushed crimson and halted, her mind scrambling to find a graceful excuse. “It's just..."
"It's just that Jake is Rob's best man, isn't it?” Lizzy asked the question, all the while tapping a finger and fixing Cass with a suspicious look.
Cass's heart started to race and she glanced over at Rachael, who raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly back at her. Some friend!
She had never told Lizzy how she felt about Jake, Lizzy's older brother. In fact, she had always been very careful to keep the girlish crush she had on him out of her relationship with her best friend. But that “crush” had been over years ago, so Lizzy was at a loss as to why she was bringing it up now. Unless...
No. Rach was the only person who knew for sure and she'd been sworn to secrecy. Even though they were all best friends, she and Rach had decided that it wouldn't be fair to Lizzy to lumber her with the knowledge of—
"Look, Cass.” Lizzy butted into Cass's ruminations, “We've been friends for too long, and I think it's about time we cleared the air about this business with Jake once and for all. Now."
There she goes again, thought Cass. “What business with Jake?” Her words were for Lizzy but she glanced suspiciously at Rach, who just shrugged in reply. A strong urge to be anywhere but here came over her and she edged slowly toward the questionable sanctuary of the front door.
"And stop looking like you want to bolt out that door, Cass, ‘cause I'll tie you down if I have to. My wedding is going to be a happy day, and it won't be if I'm worried about you and Jake. So we're going to talk about this like adults and sort it out."
"Sort it out” sounded ominous, thought Cass, like it was a mess they had gotten into. Which they hadn't. Just her. But she'd “sorted it out” years ago and now everything was ... “Fine. I'll be fine with Jake. Why on earth would you think otherwise?” The annoyed look she pasted on her face wouldn't have fooled a Sunday school class of precocious toddlers. As a bluff it certainly wouldn't win any poker hands, but it was the best she could do on short notice. This whole conversation had come totally out of left field. She reached for her glass and took another large gulp of wine, draining the glass.
"That's a very expensive chardonnay you're quaffing there like some two-dollar vino, you know."
Lizzy grabbed the bottle out of Cass's hand as she began to refill her empty goblet.
"Do you take me for a prize idiot, Cass? You really think I was too blind all those years ago not to notice how you entered Drool City every time my darling brother passed within sniffing distance?"
Sniffing distance? Who said he had to be that close? But that was beside the point. She had to get Lizzy off the scent, somehow. “You're nuts, Liz. Sure, I might have had a little crush back then,” she glared at Rachael, who chose that moment to snort, mid-sip of said pricey chardy, “but I'm a grown woman, for heaven's sake. And a mother. I was just a kid then, so give me a break.” Her eyes widened meaningfully as she looked at Rachael, hoping for support or a diversion or anything that would help—a monsoon, a tidal wave, any freak of nature—but all she received for her trouble was another raised eyebrow. She began to wonder if Rach had been practising the eyebrow thing because it seemed to be her answer for everything in the last five minutes. But Rach would pay for her lack of support later, of that Cass was certain. Something slow and painful. Chinese water torture, perhaps. But for now, she had to find some way to deflect Lizzy's topic of conversation. And pronto.
"Who's for another glass of this expensive and very tasty wine?” She spoke brightly as if she didn't have a care in the world. Good plan. Get Lizzy drunk so she'll forget the disconcerting bent her mind was taking.
Unfortunately, Lizzy was like a dog with a bone and Rachael was being about as helpful as tits on a bull.
"Cass, honey..."
Cass cringed when Lizzy started with that tone and those words. From past experience she knew it usually meant she was about to do something she really didn't want to do. It worked a treat on Rob, because the poor guy never knew what hit him.
"...I know a lot more about you and Jake than you think I do, and I think this is the perfect time for us to discuss it. You're my friend ... my best friend,” an arm slipped around Cass's shoulders and hugged her close, “and instead of being hurt that you didn't feel you could confide in me about this whole...” she floundered looking for the right word, “...mess, I figured I could be a better friend if I was there to support and help you as much as possible until you figured out what you were going to do.
"Mess? Whole mess?” Trepidation warred with annoyance in Cass's mind.
"Okay. Bad word choice. But this is important, so stop bloody avoiding what I'm trying to say."
"I like avoiding. Avoiding is good. Avoiding keeps me sane a lot of the time, especially when I have pesky friends who don't know the right time to bite it.” She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.
"Fine. Let me tell you what I know and what I suspect, and if I'm off the mark, I'll drop it, okay?"
No, not okay. Cass felt an impending sense of doom. She turned and walked over to the huge bay windows, seeing her worried face reflected back at her through the lights of the city like some holographic projection. Lightning arced across the sky in a shattering flare and the rumbling in the air could have been thunder. Or it could be her carefully stacked house of cards was about to tumble down. Storm outside or storm inside? Either way, she was about to get dumped on. She decided for one last try. “There is no Jake and me. You're wrong, Liz. Honestly."
Some things never change, and Lizzy's obstinacy and determination were two of them. She felt sorry for Rob. Liz would probably nag the poor guy to death if this conversation were any indication.
"I understand why this might be hard for you to talk about, to me of all people, so let me put it this way...” Lizzy laid a gentle hand on Cass's knee just before she dropped her bombshell. “Little Chloe is Jake's daughter, isn't she?"
Cass thought of her beautiful little girl and her heart dropped. She stood, rooted to the spot, speechless.
This was not good. It had stopped being good the minute Lizzy had decided to play Columbo and try to unearth secrets that were better left buried.
Over her head and into her line of vision came a gold necklace dangling from Lizzy's fingertips.
"Does this look familiar?"
&nb
sp; The initials CG were woven through a Celtic knot. Her necklace! She hadn't seen that necklace since ... Oh my God! That night at Jake's. Five years ago.
A shudder passed through her. She turned to face Lizzy who stood there with her hand on her hip, swinging the necklace like a pendulum. Waiting.
Shit! Oh, double shit!
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Not all fourteen-year-old girls are gawky; some are already filled out, physically and emotionally, heralding the woman they will become in a few short years. With the exception of a slightly looser rein on their emotions, of course. In some cultures, a girl of that age is even considered marriageable. Genetically, the body is ready to go, if hormones have any say in the matter.
That was also the year that Cass fell in love with Jake Reilly the moment she laid eyes on him.
Jake graduated from high school the year Cass started, and he was drop-dead gorgeous even then. That was when she had first met his sister, Lizzy, and they had become best friends instantly. Sleepovers at Lizzy's had usually involved Cass mooning discreetly over Jake. But what normal teenage girl wouldn't have?
Sun-streaked long hair that went nicely with the Aussie surfie image, tall, a body finely honed and tanned by hours spent surfing and playing sport plus intense blue eyes that would put Mel Gibson's to shame. A killer combination. And he only had to open his mouth and let that fading hint of an Irish brogue out, and Cass and the rest of the female population would cream their jeans if it was directed at them.
He had also been taken. Very taken. Dammit!
He was only four years older than she was, but it may as well have been forty for all the notice he took of her. She was his baby sister's best friend, which naturally meant that he definitely hadn't been sharing the same lustful thoughts about her that she had been having night after night about him.
The night it happened, she was twenty, and had been harbouring her unrequited love for Jake for six long years, which, as one-sided relationships went, was long time. Hell, she knew marriages that hadn't lasted that long.
Until that night...
She was working at Mick's Bar and Grill. It was only a casual job to help pay her way through university. It was the final year of her Bachelor of Arts and the minute she graduated, she was saying goodbye to drunks and hello to academia. She could imagine nothing better than spending her life tucked into some dusty corner of a university, doing her thesis while she prepared lessons and did research for her more learned brethren. Boring to some, but it was her kind of boring.
That all changed. Her cruisey ride through college pulled up real quick the night that Jake walked into the bar.
It was raining cats and dogs outside. The bar was quiet anyway, being a mid-week night, and she was polishing glasses, keeping busy until she could clock out at eleven and go home and study some more.
The minute she saw his face, she knew something was wrong. Very wrong.
"What'll you have, sailor?” It was a silly attempt to try and lighten up the shadowed cast of his features.
"A whiskey and soda. Actually, make it a double."
He hadn't even seen her; so immersed in his own thoughts he hadn't recognised her voice. His head was sunk down over the bar and she watched him in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar while she fixed his drink. Jake wasn't much of a drinker—that much she knew. So why the sudden desire to see if he could squeeze into the bottom of a highball?
"Here you go, Jake.” She placed the glass on a coaster in front of him.
He looked up at the mention of his name.
His face cleared when he recognised her. “Cassie? What're you doin’ here?"
"I work here.” Talk about stating the obvious. “How about you? You okay, Jake?"
"Yeah, fine. Couldn't be better."
Okay, there was something definitely going down. The look on his face would have been better suited to a funeral, so “fine” didn't cut it. She laid a hand on his arm. “Something you want to talk about?"
"Talk? No. I'm all talked out. But take some advice from me. Don't be fallin’ in love, Cassie. It ain't worth it. Just don't, okay? I would hate to see you hurt like...” The words trailed off as he lifted his glass and sculled the contents with a grimace.
Cass knew Jake's girlfriend. He and Sandy had been together since high school. The typical childhood sweethearts thing that made Cass green with envy every time she saw them together. Not because she wished she had a boyfriend. Just because she loved Jake and it hurt like hell that he didn't even seem to notice she was on the same planet most of the time.
But the guy was obviously in pain. “Is there anything I can do to help, Jake? I'm a good listener if you want to talk. And it's not as if I'm rushed off my feet.” She glanced around the bar. The only two customers still there were a man and a woman huddled in one of the corner booths. Keeping warm, obviously, considering that she was almost sitting in his lap. What they say about body heat must be true.
"Give me another one of these,” he held up the empty glass, and peered at it with bleary eyes, “and I might just tell you."
If there was one thing she knew from working in a bar, it was that alcohol didn't fix anything, but she figured a drink or two wouldn't hurt him.
She gasped in surprise when he grabbed her wrist as she put the drink down in front of him. “I meant it, Cassie. Don't fall in love."
Great. Nice of you to tell me, Jake. You're about six years too late. But she kept silent and instead placed her other hand over his, the warmth of her hand taking the chill off his. “Talk to me, Jake. Maybe I can help."
"Nothing you can do, darlin'.” He stroked her hand, his touch gentle. “I have to get through this on my own."
"What happened?"
"What didn't happen, more t'the point."
He was distractedly stroking her hand as he spoke, sending a tingle up her spine. The man just had no idea of the effect he had on her.
"I asked Sandy to marry me tonight."
"Why that's...” Good? Great? Bad? What the hell was she going to say? His words pulled her back.
"She turned me down."
Cass shut her mouth with a snap and swallowed the gasp that had been about to fly out. Right along with the pain that choked her throat at the thought of him being so serious about a woman that he had popped The Question.
"Why?” Because obviously Sandy needed to go see a shrink for some serious therapy if she didn't have a damn good reason for saying no to Jake.
"She doesn't want to settle down ... yet. In fact, she decided she wants us to have a break for a while to see if we are really meant to be together. Can you believe it? I mean, you're either in love or you're not, you know? What the fuck is all this, ‘let's take a break’ shit?” The hurt, angry words spewed out. His face fell when he realised what he had said and apologised.
But it was an excellent question, Cass thought. What the hell was wrong with Sandy? The stupid woman didn't deserve Jake.
She did her best to comfort him, which meant letting him talk it all out, even though hearing the man she loved talk about another woman while his heart was breaking was in the top two experiences she wouldn't be in a hurry to repeat. So it was a short list ... But to her, back then, still sheltered in that fragile innocence that enfolds inexperienced young women, that was what love was all about. Being there for your man. Through good and bad.
It was closing time and her efforts to get him to go home had met with no success, although now he was so close to drunk it didn't matter. But he was feeling pretty numb, which she guessed was the whole idea in him drinking in the first place.
"Time to go home, Jake.” With an arm around him, she tried to move him gently.
He looked up at her, those beautiful blue eyes now slightly unfocused, still holding a shadow of the pain he had arrived with earlier. “Thanks for listening. You're a good friend, baby."
The words were a little slurred, and even though she knew it was the booze talking, she couldn't help wishing he would
call her “baby” like he really meant it. She sighed. “Always for you, Jake. You know that."
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The rest of the night didn't pass quite the way she had planned.
Hang on ... plan? What friggin’ plan? Her only goal had been to get him home, which meant driving his car as he was definitely in no condition to do so. Then call a cab from his place and go home herself. Goal, not plan.
That didn't take into consideration the fact that they got drowned getting from the bar to where he'd parked his car. It also didn't take into consideration the fact that when she tried to get his wet clothes off him before he caught pneumonia, she somehow ended up naked herself. That last part had definitely not been part of any plan she was aware of. A familiar fantasy? Oh yeah ... but a plan?
She knew it was wrong. Knew it shouldn't have happened, but it did. Oh boy, did it ever. Even now, all these years later, just the memory still had the power to make her pulse quicken and her knees go weak.
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He sat on the edge of the bed, eyes closed and under the weather in more ways than one, while she clumsily struggled with what seemed more thumbs than fingers to undo the last couple of buttons on his saturated shirt. He smelled so good. A hint of aftershave and wet, healthy male. Had anything ever smelled so good? It was better than the yummy smell of cookies baking. She remembered closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of him as she leaned over to peel off the sodden shirt that was stuck to his skin. The trembling in his body that she had thought was from being cold and wet was from something else entirely. But considering her experience with men rated about a minus ten on the Richter Scale of “Lets feel the earth move, baby,” that wasn't surprising. She realised straight away what a dumb thing it was to do, and that was right about the same time she felt unsteady fingers trail up under her shirt to gently caress a lace-covered breast.
With a startled gasp, she pulled back in surprise, but his other hand, the one now pushing against the small of her back, stopped her retreat. His eyes, so filled with pain a short time ago, were now brilliant with a different kind of light, one she hadn't seen before.