Redemption (11 page)

Cliche
. He shook his head.

Except, he didn’t have Mara with him. Bryan threw one arm across his face and sighed.

Then it occurred to him. He might not have Mara, but he wasn’t completely alone, either. Cassidy had joked about Saturday being a date. It wasn’t, of course, but Miranda didn’t need to know that. Bryan sat up, a slow smile creeping across his face.

Cassidy would do nicely, if she’d go along with it. And he knew she’d go along with it. He noticed the look in her eyes when she woke up and he was there, he’d seen the laughter that danced in them every time she smiled at him. Her face lit up around him.

He wasn’t imagining it.

Step one was to get a suit that would make him irresistible.

Step two was to convince Cassidy to help him out.

Step three was to make Miranda want what she could no longer have.

Bryan’s smile widened. Carrie had been right; this would be fun.

“N
o, that’s not right,” Cassidy said, frowning.

Carrie held up another possibility - a pink dress, strappy, sexy, seemingly perfect for her indecisive cousin. She looked hopeful.

“Nope.”

“What are you looking for?” Carrie asked, exasperated. They’d been at this for hours, and so far Cassidy had turned down every suggestion. It was a special occasion, yes, but finding a dress for dinner shouldn’t be this torturous.

“Something amazing,” she answered, pushing aside apparently unacceptable dresses on the rack.

Carrie had taken her to the mall, and it seemed like no matter how many dresses she saw, how many different stores they tried, nothing was right. She needed the perfect dress.

Not for Bryan, of course, since they were just friends. Turning thirty was a milestone, and she wanted to look incredible. Besides, she hadn’t seen Miranda in years, and from what Carrie told her, she’d only continued to get more beautiful with time. Fantastic. Apparently, Derek was also intimidatingly good-looking, and she tended to feel fidgety around men like that. She wanted to be the one to make people stare for once.

Was that so terrible?

No,
she told herself
.

It also had nothing to do with the fact that she’d given Bryan that stupid challenge and now felt compelled to ensure she looked beautiful enough to be able to stand on the same boat with him. Even with all of that scruff, she knew he’d be hot enough to warm the air around her and melt the snow, maybe even an icecap or two. She closed her eyes.

Please,
she thought.

“Cass, are you asking for Divine intervention to help you find a dress?” Luscid leaned in and whispered.

“Lu!” Cassidy squealed, hugging him.

“Whoa, careful there. I’m not fully visible, if you know what I mean,” he said.

She stepped back and composed herself. Turning to a nearby rack of dresses, she quietly spoke, “Gotcha. So, why are you here?” Cassidy pretended to look at some options.

“He’s damaged, Cassidy,” Luscid said. “It’s not a good situation. I’m working with his angel, Bastion; and I just came to ask you to be careful.”

“Lu, you’ve protected me since forever. I know you’re always going to be around. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, I will be here, but I know how you are...just watch out. There are evil forces that have attached themselves to him. I
will
do whatever is necessary to keep you safe,” he paused, “but I’m still going to ask you to be extra careful.”

Cassidy glanced over her shoulder. “Fine. But first I have to find something to wear on Saturday night.” She blew out impatiently. “None of these are right.”

“Here,” Luscid handed her a dress. “Wear this one. It’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

She spun to see him holding up her perfect dress. Chiffon and silk: her favorite. A sage bodice with an empire waist line. The remainder of the knee-length dress was peach with a delicate pink floral print cascading down the right-hand side. It had a sweetheart neckline with spaghetti straps and tiered silk chiffon strips trailing down from the beaded detail in the center of the bodice. There was even a matching chiffon wrap.

Cassidy grinned. She would float across the deck like an angel.

“I’ve been all through here. Where did you find this?” she asked, breathless.

“It’s a one-of-a-kind. An incredible dress for an incredible woman.” Luscid smiled. “Enjoy your birthday, Cassidy.”

“Thank you so much!” She wanted to hug him, but she knew that would cause people to stare. Hugging air and all. Cassidy squealed in delight. “Carrie! I’ve got it!”

At last,
Carrie thought, relieved.

She walked over. In her cousin’s hands she saw a dress that looked as though it had been tailor-made just for Cassidy. Carrie scanned the area, but she couldn’t find any other dresses like it.

“Last one?” she asked.

Cassidy smiled. “You could say that. Isn’t it amazing?” She held it up to her body and twirled.

“Yes. You’ll look beautiful. Now, let’s find some shoes.”

 

Bryan looked at the tray of food he’d ordered from room service. Suddenly, nothing on it seemed appetizing. He wanted company, not food. He could call Nick, go for a beer or two. Do guy stuff, whatever the heck that meant.

But he didn’t feel like hanging with Nick right now.

He leaned back in his chair and put the cover back on the plate. He felt restless. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the stone around his neck. Tiger’s Eye for clarity? He could use some of that right now. So far, the stone hadn’t done a thing to help him clear his mind. He grunted his disbelief.

Bryan looked out the window, staring at nothing. He didn’t have a thing to do. Either of the suits he’d brought for the day of the wedding would be fine for the dinner cruise. He’d look great; he always got compliments when he wore both. A tiny smile crept across his face when he thought of Cassidy’s challenge. She’d be gorgeous. She could wear a potato sack and look amazing. He pictured her shopping for a dress, obsessing over each detail, driving Carrie crazy. He laughed. He imagined her going home, so excited and adorable it made his heart hurt. He wanted to be there, waiting for her when she walked in the door. He wanted to see her face light up at seeing his.

Suddenly, the realization that no one was ever waiting for him hit hard. Mara was fun, and she sure did take his mind off his troubles. But she wasn’t the white picket fence type. She lived her life, liked to party, and was great for a good time. Even though she said she did, Bryan doubted she truly missed him; and he wanted to be missed. He wanted someone to be waiting for him at the end of the day.

He wanted someone like Cassidy.

Deep down, he always had. That was what had propelled him to take a chance on Miranda last summer, fly back, and confess his feelings for her. Bryan liked to have a good time, but that wasn’t enough. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it or pretend he didn’t feel it, he knew that forever with someone was what he wanted.

Tomorrow he’d see Miranda again. That was going to suck, seeing her with Gainnes. They’d be happy. All over each other. Disgustingly and nauseatingly in love. Bryan swore under his breath. He needed to talk to Cassidy, at least. If there was any way she’d be a part of the plan that would ensure he survived the night, he needed to call her today. He texted Nick, asking for her cell number.

And waited for a response.

After what seemed an eternity, his phone buzzed. Bryan smiled until he saw the message.

Nick: Why?

He grumbled. What did they think he was going to do to her? Sure, he was a mess, but he wouldn’t hurt Cassidy. Miranda was a different story. She needed to feel a bit of the pain he carried around in his chest. Cassidy was his friend, and he took care of his friends.

Bryan: I need to ask her a question. Just give me the number.
He punched in the words quickly and angrily.

He waited.

The next message contained the magic ten digits he’d hoped for. Along with three words.

Nick:
She’s not Miranda.

He knew that. It was one of the best things about her. Along with her long, blonde hair, incredible blue eyes, and curves that drove him wild. Miranda had the curves, but other than that, they didn’t even look a bit alike. And comparing them had never even crossed his mind.

Bryan typed a quick thank you and began texting Cassidy.

Bryan: hey.

Cassidy: hey. how’d you get my number?

Bryan: nick. wyd?

Cassidy: shopping. got my dress. you better be ready. LOL

Bryan: i think i can handle it.

Cassidy: ok, mr. arrogant guy. what’s up?

Bryan: i wanted to ask you something. don’t want to text it.

Cassidy: sure. pick me up.

Bryan: 20 min good?

Cassidy: ok

Bryan: see you then.

Twenty minutes gave him enough time to change into a better shirt and jeans. Something she’d have a hard time saying no to him in. He washed up and ran a hand through his hair. The stone bothered him, its weight beginning to irritate him. Bryan unclasped it and left it on the table next to the bed. It didn’t match his shirt, anyway.

He sized himself up in the full-length mirror by the door. Nodding, he thought what he’d thrown together would do the job. Blazer, striped sweater over a t-shirt, dark jeans. He put on a scarf and grabbed his keys. Cassidy would agree, would help him with this. She was a good person, and she seemed to care about how he felt. For God’s sake, she’d tried to take his temperature.

Miranda would see him with Cassidy, and she’d feel something. It didn’t matter if she had Gainnes; she’d want to be able to have the same easy, playful relationship she used to have with Bryan. But she couldn’t. And he wouldn’t let her. All she was allowed to do was watch. This time, she would be the one who saw him with a beautiful girl on his arm. Moving on. Forgetting her.

Or at least pretending to.

B
ryan pulled into Carrie’s driveway and walked to the front door. The only car in the driveway was Cassidy’s; everyone else was either out or at work. Even though he wouldn’t run into anyone who might question what he was up to, he felt a little nervous, which was ridiculous. This wasn’t a date. This wasn’t anything more than needing to convince Cassidy that she should
pretend
to be his date. Which wasn’t a situation that should make him nervous. She’d be out of his life in a week. There was no reason for annoying butterflies to be dancing around his gut. Yet, there they were.

He rang the bell and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Within moments, the door swung open, and he was sure that someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the atmosphere. She was stunning. Even in her jeans and turtleneck sweater, she was amazing to behold.

“Hi.” The word barely made it from his lips.

Cassidy smiled at him, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Hi. Come in. I have to grab my coat and purse.”

“Sure,” he said, stepping inside. Distracted by her very presence, he tripped over the threshold, embarrassing himself.

Maybe she didn’t see that
.

She saw.

“You okay?” Cassidy asked, smirking.

“I’m fine. Just haven’t eaten. Low blood sugar makes me a little unsteady on my feet,” he lied.

She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t take care of yourself. You should find someone to fix that.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” Bryan remarked sarcastically.

Cassidy pulled on her coat and mittens. “I like what you’re wearing. You look good.”

“Thanks,” Bryan said. Inside, he was grinning. “You, too.”

“It’s jeans and an old sweater, but thanks,” she remarked, still smiling and shaking her head. “Well, let’s go. You have some mysterious question to ask me, and I really need something hot to drink.” She pulled her hair out from under her scarf.

“All right. There’s a Starbucks in the center of town.” He pushed the front door open and stood to the side so she could walk past him.

“Perfect. I love their salted caramel hot chocolate,” she paused, “and they have food, too. You should eat. You’re too thin.”

Bryan scowled. “I already have a mother, you know.”

“Obviously.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

Some hair was still caught in her coat. On instinct, Bryan reached out and fixed it for her. As his fingers brushed her neck, he felt a strange jolt. It wasn’t the same as the piercing stab he’d felt at the hotel. This one felt good, warm. Cassidy must have felt something, too. She tried to hide it, but he saw her face flush as she quickly looked away.

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly.

His hand was still resting on her shoulder. “No problem.”

She couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do. He said he needed to ask her some question that apparently was too big a deal for him to text. He was tripping over his own feet, touching her hair, and giving her strange looks. If Cassidy didn’t know better, she’d think that it was because of her. But she did know better, and it wasn’t. She was sure it had to do with the dinner and the inevitable confrontation with Miranda.