Dirty Sexy Knitting (20 page)

“Gee, thanks,” she said, in a teasing tone again. “You found being in my bed ‘terrifying?’ ”

“It was if we didn’t use a condom. It was if I made you pregnant.”

An icy burn swept across her skin. Pregnant. A baby.

His casual mention of it, his obvious relief that it was an unfounded concern shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t touch her at all. He didn’t know it was the final piece of the dream of family she’d been carrying with her since childhood. Cassandra, with her own baby to love.

Gabe’s great fear.

Her great hope.

She buried both thoughts as deeply as she could.

His chin was against the top of her head; her cheek was nestled on his chest. He smoothed her hair with his hand. “You okay now?”

“Mmm.”

He smoothed her hair another time. “Sweet dreams, Froot Loop.”

“You, too,” she whispered, though she didn’t think she’d be getting much sleep, let alone pleasant dreams. So as not to do anything silly like talk in her sleep and reveal how much his tenderness had meant to her, she’d have to be on guard until he left in the morning.

And she knew he would, as surely as she knew that there’d be gulls at the beach. He’d get up and go and their relationship—such as it had been—would return to its former state. He’d be her landlord, her occasional friend, her once-upon-a-time, one-time lover.

She’d asked for just that, after all.

Which meant it was a good thing that though she’d asked Gabe into her body and though he’d found his way into her head, that she hadn’t been dumb enough to allow him into her heart.

Not that.

Never that.

An ounce of blood is worth more than a pound of friendship.

—SPANISH PROVERB

 

 

 

 

Cassandra was assessing her reflection in one of Malibu & Ewe’s full-length mirrors, when Nikki burst through the door of the shop, half an hour before the seven o’clock start of their regular Tuesday Knitters’ Night. “Cute hat,” she said, coming up behind her.

“Thanks.” Cassandra reached up to pull off the hand-knit beanie covering her hair. A soft brown color, it fit close to her head and was embellished with antique ivory buttons and soft pink flowers that she’d knitted as well. Then, unable to help herself, she turned to her sister and grabbed her up in a hug much tighter than the casual moment warranted. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nikki said, pushing back with gentle hands. “I didn’t just survive the
Titanic
.”

“Right,” Cassandra replied, taking a quick step away. Nikki had spent years defending her heart by keeping herself closed off from others, and she could still be prickly about physical contact.

“Oh, don’t look like that,” the other woman said, and yanked Cassandra against her for another brief, tight hug. “And don’t try to tell me nothing’s going on with you, either.”

But Cassandra didn’t want to divulge, not when she knew the event was over. Since then, she’d been finding ways to put it out of her mind. “Can’t we leave it that I’m happy to see you?”

Nikki folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head. “Does this have something to do with the fire? It looks as if the damage is completely repaired.”

“Mm-hmm.” She turned her back on her sister and busied herself taking off the mittens that matched her hat. “It only took a few days.” The few days that Nikki and Jay had been in San Francisco doing whatever engaged, in-love couples did in a beautiful city. Glancing at the mirror again, she tugged at the hem of her skirt.

“Great outfit, too,” Nikki remarked.

Cassandra took a longer look at the reflection in the mirror. “Skirt’s too short.” She’d made it herself on the sewing machine set up in the back room, out of a remnant of thin waled, camel-colored corduroy. The only thing that saved it from indecency was that she was wearing patterned tights beneath it. The cream color of her plain sweater matched the tights and she wore pale-pink suede boots on her feet. She plucked at the flat knit of the top. “Do you know how to make jewelry?”

“I can make omelettes. I’m good at decorating cakes. No jewelry.”

“Maybe I’ll bring someone into the shop to give lessons. Or do you think Juliet might want to learn—”

“Our sister will be more into her new husband than engaging in a new hobby, is what I think,” Nikki said. Her bicolored eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. How many FOs have you racked up since I left Malibu?”

FOs or “Finished Objects” usually afforded the knitter bragging rights. But her sister had suspicion, not admiration in her gaze. “You know I lose count of how many projects I have in progress,” Cassandra said, hurrying away from the mirror and bustling to the back room where she could leave her hat and mittens and bring out the refreshments. Nikki didn’t follow, probably because at that moment the bells on the front door rang out, signaling another knitter’s arrival.

Not just any knitter, Cassandra noted as she returned to the main part of the shop. “Juliet!” Looking tan and rested, the oldest of the three sisters stood by the cash register, her husband, Noah, and Nikki’s Jay nearby.

“Jay picked us up from the airport but I wanted to stop by the shop before we went home,” Juliet said, pulling Cassandra close. A delicious mix of coconut oil and expensive perfume clung to her. “How have you been?”

“Never better!” Cassandra said, and turned to buss her brother-in-law, Noah, on the cheek and then give a second smack to Jay.

Nikki sent a pointed look at Juliet. “Ask her about the fire. Ask her about why she’s completed an entirely new wardrobe, just in the past couple of days.”

“Not an entirely new wardrobe—”

“What fire?” Noah cut in.

Cassandra tried ignoring the question. “—but I’m done with the matching bride and bridesmaids shrugs for your wedding, Nik.”

“Oh, Froot Loop, I’m not that easy,” Nikki said, then darted a look at her fiancé. “And no comment from the peanut gallery, please.”

He grinned and looped an arm around her to drag her back against his chest. “Cookie. I’m nuts for you.”

Rolling her eyes, she groaned. “Jay . . .”

“What fire?” Noah asked again, his voice sharper.

Cassandra sighed. “We think some kids were fooling around and started a small blaze in my side storeroom,” she said. “The authorities haven’t found the culprit or culprits, but the shop is as good as new.”

Noah turned to Jay. “What do you know about this?”

The other man shook his head. “Not much. We left for San Francisco the day after it happened.”

Cassandra recognized her brother-in-law’s tension and guessed its source. “It was after-hours, Noah. Even if you hadn’t been on your honeymoon, Juliet wouldn’t have been working at the shop. She would have been safe at home—”

“I’m worried about you, too, Cassandra,” he put in.

The steel in his voice warmed her heart, and she smiled at him. “I know. Thanks for that.”

“So where’s Gabe in all this?” Noah asked.

Nikki frowned. “If he’s laid out on another barroom floor somewhere, so help me God, Cassandra, I’m going to—”

“Cookie,” Jay admonished, tugging on the ends of her hair.

“No, no. He’s not in a bar,” Cassandra said quickly. “At least, not that I know of . . .” She went clammy, wondering if he just might not be on another of his benders, and that this time he’d made sure she wasn’t called in as cleanup crew. Three days had passed since that morning when he’d brought over the contractor to do the necessary repair work on the shop.

She hadn’t seen him since and she’d assumed he’d been avoiding her because, well, he went through periods when he avoided
everyone
. Rather than tracking him down, she’d let it be, because it made it easier on her not to think about him, not to think about him in her bed and in her body, when she didn’t have to look at his unruly hair and his un-smiling face. Those only served to remind her that he’d smiled at her when they’d been together that night, that he’d laughed and spoken to her in a soft, deep, sexy voice.
You wait this long, you get the edge that experience brings.

“Cassandra. Froot Loop.” Nikki was snapping her fingers in front of her face. “Hello in there.”

She started, aware that the other four were staring at her, their expressions puzzled. “Are you all right?” Juliet asked.

“Sure. I’m great.” But it was a lie, Cassandra realized, as she busied herself getting ready for the knitters soon to arrive. Until now, until she was breathing in all the fragrant love-in-the-air that surrounded the two couples, she hadn’t realized how third wheel she felt around them.

It was probably because Juliet and Noah were married now. It would only get worse once Nikki and Jay were wed.

She’d feel yet more alone.

It would be petty and mean-spirited and more than a little selfish of her if she didn’t want her sisters to be happy—and happily coupled-up. But gaining siblings and then brothers-in-law hadn’t rounded out her life as she’d hoped—it only seemed to push her further out of the circle.

With an inner sigh and a pasted-on smile, she waved Noah and Jay off and watched her sisters settle side by side on one of the couches, speaking all the while in a bridal shorthand that sounded like a foreign language she hadn’t studied. To distract herself, she inspected the lists sitting beside the cash register counter.

She hadn’t forgotten about that project she’d come up with when talking to her mother. RSVPs were rolling in. A menu had been planned. It might not be a marriage, it might not be a man, but she could focus on her birthday party.

In a small side drawer, she found the one invitation she’d dithered about mailing. Sneaking a look at her sisters, she shoved the drawer shut, wondering if she really could make the event all that she’d promised herself.

 

 

Marlys couldn’t say exactly what brought her back to Malibu & Ewe. She kept finding herself here lately. Once, on the evening of the posthumous launch of her famous father’s autobiography, a second time when she’d found the cardboard burning, and then again when she’d encountered Gabe in the parking lot and then chickened out before walking through the door.

It was probably that chickening out that drew her back to the beachside shop. Marlys Weston didn’t chicken out. Add to that the cavernous family house where she was living. The place was too large for one person and a dog. Blackie had a big personality, but even he couldn’t fill all the corners and the gloomy quiet.

Within the echoing rooms, she’d had too much time to think about Dean Long. Tall, dark, her silver-eyed nemesis who had dared her to gather some ice cream and some girl friends and decide what she wanted to do about him. About them.

Of course, that had already been decided the November before, but she’d begun to think that including some women in her life wasn’t a bad idea. Men had always failed her. If she could dress women, surely she could befriend women, too?

And maybe friendship could do something about those holes caused by her father’s death that had created in her this unprecedented need for a dark-haired, silver-eyed man who’d left her sleepless and yearning for too many nights running.

The bells on the door of the shop rang out as she pushed it open. Head down, she marched inside, not bothering to look around before making her way to the couches she could see in her direct line of sight. She took a seat on the first open cushion.

“Oh! It’s you,” a woman’s voice said. “Marlys, right? And I’m Ellen.”

Marlys turned, recognizing the woman beside her—Ellen—was none other than one of her boutique customers, the very woman with whom she’d discussed Ben & Jerry and low-rise jeans not long ago. She took it as a good omen, and tried on a smile, one she hoped was big enough to send amiable vibes as far as the other dozen or so knitters gathered in the center of the shop. “Hello. Small world, and all that.”

“I’ve just taken up knitting and my mother-in-law suggested I come here,” Ellen offered. “I don’t dare say no to my mother-in-law. You?”

“Me?” Marlys said. “I—”

“Have absolutely no good reason to be in Malibu & Ewe,” an angry voice finished for her.

Marlys looked up, and sure enough, it was Nikki Car-michael, one of her evil stepmother’s wicked half-sisters. Her arms folded over her chest, the other woman was glaring down at Marlys with fire in her bicolored eyes.

“Nik . . .” the woman at her elbow admonished. Long, wavy hair, big blue eyes, and big boobs, this one was Cassandra Riley, proving she wasn’t so wicked after all as she tried pulling her sister away from the couches and the interested onlookers. “Simmer down.”

“What do you want?” Nikki demanded of Marlys, shaking off her sister’s hand.

“To . . .”
Find something to take my mind off Dean, my father’s death, the fact that I still feel dirty for taking Pharmaceutical Phil to bed.
She cleared her throat. “. . . knit, of course.”

“Juliet wouldn’t—” Nikki started.

“Juliet doesn’t have Marlys on her mind right now,” Cassandra said, pushing her sister away. “You just missed her, as a matter of fact. She and Noah returned from their honeymoon today, so she cut out from Knitters’ Night early.”

Nikki was muttering under her breath, but her older sister ignored her to perch on the arm of the sofa next to Marlys. “She told me about the champagne and fruit basket you had delivered.”

“I hope they had someone taste test the stuff first,” Nikki murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Marlys felt her lips twitch. Under other circumstances, she thought she and the mean one might have a good time together. “I hope they enjoyed themselves.” She was almost sincere about it—well, she
was
sincere about it. Part of her didn’t wish Juliet and Noah anything but happiness. Then there was the bitter, grieving daughter who still resented that her father had left her and ultimately loved someone else.