Kiss Me, Dancer (12 page)

“I’ve just got to finish tying up my sunflowers,” Parker said, giving his sister a hug. “Only a few left and we’re good to go. I think Berg Realtors has some possibilities.”

She walked with him past bushes and shrubs he’d planted toward a massive garden that bordered the woods at the edge of his property. “Listen up, bro. Change of plans. No studio hunt. But I remembered it was weeding day over here at tumbledown ranch. Figured you could use some help.”

“Don’t tell me Vonrelis has decided not to sell?”

“No, but I have a backer now who knows more about real estate than either of us.”

“A backer? Who?”

Casey hesitated. The last time she and Parker spoke about Drew Byrne he’d said he wouldn’t want him near his sister. “A parent of one of my students wants to invest in property around here and wants my dance academy to continue.” This area of the North Fork had such a mix of wealthy and working class families that a good half of her students had parents who could fit the bill.

Parker’s eyebrows lifted. “Sounds great. But are you sure they’re reliable?”

“My gut thinks so.” Casey pulled off her sneakers before stepping into the garden. She loved the feel of sunbaked clods of dirt under her feet. “This place is immaculate, Parker. I don’t even see any weeds.”

“Over here.” He led her down a path between sunflowers taller than herself to a patch of pepper plants next to rows of greens peas.

Casey went to work. Her long, flexible ham strings a plus, since she had no problem bending completely forward to reach the ground. She wore denim shorts and a sleeveless tee, and the warm sun felt good against her bare legs and arms.

But just as she began to relax, Parker said, “You going to tell me who it is?”

She stood up, hands defiantly on her hips. “Drew Byrne.”

Parker studied her for several moments. And with the simplest tilt of his head Casey could tell her brother had detected her more-than-friendly feelings for Drew.

“Want my opinion?” he said.

“I think I already know what it’s going to be. You don’t like him.”

“I just don’t want you to have deja vous all over again.”

“This is different.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Okay, so I kind of like the guy.” Casey turned away, crouched, and resumed her weeding.

Parker squatted on his haunches next to her. “Sorry, Casey, but Byrne reminds me too much of Jeff Renstadt. Flashy, arrogant, with movie star looks and money to burn. Have you forgotten how devastated you were when Jeff dumped you? It took you nearly two years to get over him.”

“That was seven years ago. I’d just turned twenty-one and was a real jerk.”

She’d gotten her first cocktail waitressing job for the summer season at an upscale restaurant bar in East Hampton. There she met Jeff, a confident, dark-haired pretty boy born and bred in the land of the debutante ball. Definitely
GQ
photo spread material. After a few rounds of drinks he reached out and took Casey’s hand with complete and utter confidence and slipped into it a crisp Ben Franklin. Both his hundred-dollar tip and his hand touching hers left her reeling.

Parker tugged at the weeds. “You weren’t a jerk. We grew up in rough circumstances. Any working class girl would be swept away by a guy who takes her into a world of luxurious estates, Lamborghinis, private jets and ninety foot yachts.”

“I was also bowled over by the fact that this outrageously handsome hunk actually wanted plain old Casey Richardson. How stupid.”

“It’s not about being stupid, Casey. It’s about being young and having the kind of heart that loves easily. There are plenty of shallow, selfish girls who wouldn’t have gotten so caught up. But you open your heart to people. Even cold blooded ones. Like Jeff, who thought he could just pass this blue collar girl around to his buddies when he was done with you.”

“Parker, don’t.” An old pang of hurt seared through Casey. She sat cross-legged in the dirt.

He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry to remind you of it. And I don’t mean to sound prejudiced. I’ve met some wealthy folks who are true saints, but there are certain kinds of rich guys who shouldn’t be trusted. The kinds who think people below their class are just there to serve them. I’ve been handling Byrne’s lawns and gardens for five years, and I doubt he’d even know me if we met on the street.”

Casey remembered how Drew hadn’t even recognized Parker’s name when she’d mentioned it. She nodded, resolved. “I know what you’re saying. Don’t worry. I intend to keep this a business arrangement.”

“You already said you liked him.”

“I wouldn’t want to commit to this kind of project with someone I
didn’t
like.”

“Has he asked you out? Taken you to dinner in his chauffeured car?”

“Well, we did go to a place in Manhattan the other night. By helicopter.” When she saw her brother’s face she added, “I’m
not
going to fall in love with Drew Byrne. I just want my studio. And he can afford to help me a lot better than you can.”

Parker brushed dirt from his hands and stood. “If he quits on the business deal when he finds that out, I’ll be here for you.” He reached out a hand and pulled her up. “Come on. I’ve got some iced tea in the fridge. And didn’t you say you were worried one of your studio mirrors was coming off the wall? How about we go fix it? Don’t want it falling on some little dancer.”

“That would be great, bro. Then you can stay for dinner and polish off what’s left of last night’s sad attempt at chicken marsala.”

***

Drew spent most of Saturday catching up at his home office. And thinking about Casey. Cursing himself for being unable to pry his mind away from the memory of holding Casey as she cried in his arms. Her skin was ivory smooth, her eyes dewy, her mouth inviting. He liked that she was hesitant to have him foot the bill for her new studio. He was so used to just the opposite: women with tricks up their sleeves trying to sway him into paying for all kinds of things for them. Speaking of which, both Chloe and Georgia had texted him saying they wanted to get together. But Drew wasn’t about to make plans that would prevent him from seeing Casey tonight.

How dumb not to ask for a phone number other than the one he had for the North Cove Dance Academy. And she wasn’t listed anywhere. Considering how seriously Casey took interruptions to her classes, not to mention the fact that Josh—and Heather—would be at the studio today, Drew checked the academy schedule and waited until classes were good and over before calling.

Obviously he waited too long. After getting her voice mail three times he finally left his number and said, “Need to talk to you about something. Give me a call when you’re free. About the realtor, I mean. Uh, it’s Drew. Drew Byrne.”

What is wrong with me? I sound like an adolescent who’s never called a girl before.
But then he’d never had a female get to him the way Casey had.

By six o’clock he couldn’t stand it any more. She hadn’t called him back. That kind of thing didn’t happen to Drew Byrne. Except it just did. And he wanted to know why.

He was about to tell his driver to take him to North Cove, but changed his mind. Not about going there. But about showing up in a limo. Most women liked that sort of thing, but he could tell it made Casey uncomfortable. He freshened up, hopped in his Porsche and made it to the ferry and across to the North Fork in record time.

Rehearsing his lines, Drew slowed as he neared the dance studio and parked along the curb. He took a quick peek up the driveway to the back lot and got a glimpse of the Honda Civic that had been parked there the night of Trevor’s party. Drew had been too preoccupied with kissing Casey that night to notice if there was a back door buzzer. He rang the front.

A curtain moved on the second floor. Casey’s face appeared at the window. He was about to wave, but her eyes went wide and the curtain dropped.

Drew waited. The door opened, and Casey stood there looking sexy as hell in denim shorts, her hair falling out of a topknot. But the warm smile he expected wasn’t there. Instead she seemed nervous. Which ticked him off slightly. And worried him. Wasn’t he still the hero saving her studio? Had she changed her mind?

“Um, hi, Drew.”

He waited for her to invite him in, but she said nothing more. So he said, “Didn’t you get my message?” Geez. He swore to himself he wouldn’t mention it. And now he not only mentioned it, but also sounded like a whining wuss.

“Yes, I got it. But you didn’t say to call you back and I—”

“Yes, I did. This morning my realtor—”

“You called today? I’m sorry. I’ve been out and haven’t checked my studio phone since I got back. I should give you my mobile number.”

Drew let out a breath. The tightness in his chest easing when she offered her personal number. “Yeah, it would make it easier.” But she didn’t turn to get a piece of paper. In fact, he noticed she was holding the door almost shut in a way where she seemed afraid he might barge in. Was she afraid of him?

No. She’s got company
. He could tell by the way she kept glancing behind herself in the direction of the stairs. Drew could tell what it meant because he’d often been in the same position.
Fast work, considering she’d only broken up with Trevor three days ago.

“Hold on,” he said as she began speaking her number. He pulled out his cell and punched it in. “Mine is on the message you didn’t listen to.”

“Right. Well, I, um…”

Drew’s jaw tightened. She was giving him the brush. Was he supposed to just walk away with his tail between his legs? Pretend he didn’t know why she didn’t invite him in? Why should he let her off that easy? “Want to go out for a bite?”

Would she lie to him? Drew hated women who lied. Sure he might play a few games now and then, but only with women who meant nothing to him. Women who were already playing games themselves. He could’ve sworn Casey wasn’t one of them.

“I can’t,” she said. “I have company. But I’m looking forward to searching for a studio with you. And I really had a great time Thursday night. Thank you.” Her full pink lips formed a smile so sweet they could make him forgive her anything.

They said goodnight to each other, and Drew left, but he did not start for home just yet. He went to his car and sat there. Stewing.

And wondering if Casey had been right to be wary of the two of them getting into a business deal. With the resentment he felt for her right now he could see how things might get messy. But he knew she wanted his body as much as he wanted hers. He’d seen it in her blushes and sensed it in the heavy-duty non-verbal exchanges between them. And maybe there wasn’t any more to it than that. Maybe if they just had sex a couple times this obsession he’d developed for her would go away.

Then he heard Casey’s laugh. A wonderful, full, warm-you-all-the-way-to-your-toes laugh. He peered out the car window. There she was walking up the street alongside a man. A tall, rugged hunk with a face like a friggen movie star.

Drew gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Seized by wild jealousy, he wanted to leap out of the car and pummel the guy. He didn’t understand it. There were loads of babes out there, super gorgeous ones. He didn’t need Casey Richardson. But something seethed inside him insisting that Casey was his and his alone.

As the two disappeared around the corner, Drew suppressed his urge to follow them. He forced himself to start his car. And he headed home.

Struggling to get a grip on his mixed up mind.

Chapter Thirteen

Sunday morning Casey woke up feeling horrible about the way she’d treated Drew when he showed up at her door. But she’d had to hurry and send him away before Parker got curious. If Parker had found out her visitor was Drew, he would’ve gone into his challenging, tough guy, protective big brother mode.

Still, she couldn’t stop seeing that disappointed look in Drew’s wonderful eyes. She realized yesterday that Josh had the same eyes. Not quite as blue, but as heavily lashed. And of course the boy hadn’t yet developed his father’s penetrating stare that would make him murder on women when he grew up.

Last night after Parker left, Casey listened to Drew’s message on the studio phone. And played it over several times just to hear his voice. But she chickened out of calling him, afraid he might pay her back by blowing her off before she got a chance to apologize. Besides, she doubted he’d be sitting at home like she was on a Saturday night.

This morning Buster, Miss Daisy and Sugar Boy prowled around her feet, demanding seconds as Casey made scrambled eggs and coffee. By her third cup she finally decided a text would be a good way to go. She grabbed her cell.

Sorry about last night. My brother came by to talk.

Was kind of upset. Were in the middle of things

when you arrived. Got your message. Can’t wait!
☺

Not completely accurate, but not entirely false. It was true Parker was kind of upset. The reason just happened to be her connecting with Drew.

About five minutes after Casey sent the text, her ringtone sang out “Take Five” by Dave Brubeck. A funny thrill went through her when the caller ID told her it was Drew.

Oboy. You really are in trouble, girl.
She sat at the kitchen table and took a courage-fortifying swig of coffee. “Hello,” she said, trying not to sound too eager.

“Casey. Got your text. No need to apologize. I had the feeling something was going down. You should’ve just told me and I would have made myself scarce rather than hanging you up.”

“Right.” Except she hadn’t dreamt up the “he was upset” excuse until now. Yesterday she’d been too busy worrying that Drew would want to meet her brother if she mentioned him. Or that Parker would come down the stairs and see Drew.

“Is this the one who does gardening at my place?”

“Yes. My only brother.”

Drew hesitated, and Casey sensed him weighing his next words. So it surprised her when he said, “I remember him now. Good-looking dude. Kind of a Jon Hamm type.”