Sweetest Desires (A Sweetest Day Romance) (14 page)

“Very good. We can schedule the breast implants for next week, and the buttock augmentation the week after, provided you’ve been determined as a candidate. You should be able to return to work in about four weeks, or even sooner, depending upon your recovery response.”

Dr. Cordova rose from his chair and Katharine followed suit. Natalie remained seated for a moment. Katharine could tell from Natalie’s dirty look that she wanted to blurt out, “Hell to the no thanks, doc. We’ve changed our minds,” but instead she slowly rose from her seat as the doctor again shook Katharine’s hand.

“You’re in good hands,” the doctor said. “I’ll see you next week,” he smiled at Katharine. “Mrs. Harper,” he added coldly, nodding a farewell to Natalie.

Natalie barely managed a polite smile.

Chapter 18

“I have to fly to
Asheville this weekend to interview a high profile football coach,” Carson informed Cindy.

“Asheville!” Cindy cheered. “I love it there, and I’d love to go with you—I mean, meet you there. It would be the perfect place for Deanna and me to r
econnect. After your interview, the three of us can have a fun, relaxing weekend together.”

“Actually, I was thinking how my children would get a kick out of seeing the Great Smoky Mountains,” Carson replied. “Katharine and I visited the Blue Ridge Mountains before they were born. The wate
rfalls were breathtaking,” he smiled reminiscently, then sighed. “But Katharine would never approve of my taking the children out of state.”

“Does Katharine know I’m living here with you?”

“Are you kidding? No way! As innocent as our relationship is, she’d have a conniption if she found out. That’s why I’ve asked you to stay at your mother's house when the children spend the night here.”

“I didn’t think she did,” she replied in a mela
ncholy voice. “So it’s all right if Deanna and I meet you there?”

Carson gave it brief consideration. “Why not,” he answered. “Where would you like to stay?”

“The Asheville Hilltop Cabin?”

“Perfect,” Carson said. “I’ll have the Weekly r
eserve it for me. Well, us, but they won’t know that I have any guests except the coach I’m interviewing.”

“No need,” Cindy said. “Just leave it to me.”

* * *

On Friday evening, Carson arrived at the
Asheville Hilltop Cabin four hours after Cindy and Deanna had checked in. The front desk clerk gave Carson his cabin key, a copy of his check-in invoice, and a slip of pink paper with a message from his office.

“The lady who left the message,” the clerk pointed to the paper in Carson’s hand, “said she’d been calling your cell phone, but it gave her a co
nstant busy signal and then disconnected. To be on the safe side, just in case you didn’t get the messages she’d left at your office, she left one here too.”

“Thanks,” Carson said. “I appreciate it.” A wave of annoyance swept over him as he read the message: His interview had been postponed at the last minute and would be rescheduled for a later date—this time in Los Angeles.

Not wanting to disappoint Cindy and Deanna by going back home, he removed his luggage from the rental car and located his cabin, which was secluded in a grove of pines and boasted an incredible mountain view. Looking at the peaceful blue sky and listening to the crickets chirping in the shrubbery, he thought,
maybe the weekend will do me some good
.

The
cabin looked rather rustic and quite plain from the outside, but he knew it had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a fireplace. The brochure said it could comfortably accommodate four adults. He opened the unlocked door and set his luggage inside.

Deanna was staring out the cabin window at the marvelous view.

“Deanna,” Cindy called to her.

Deanna turned with a feline motion that was very quick, very controlled. Predatory.

“Carson, I’d like you to meet my daughter,” Cindy said. “Deanna, this is Mr. O’Connor.”

For a moment, it was utterly quiet. Nothing moved but Carson’s outstretched hand. “You want my arm to fall off?” Carson smiled.

Cindy laughed. “That’s original.”

Deanna said nothing, did nothing, simply watching Carson as though she’d never seen a man like him before.

“She’s an innocent,” Cindy whispered to Carson. “Very cautious.”

“What? Have you never met a genuinely good person?” He playfully tilted his head sideways and spread his arms to invite her to hug him.

Deanna turned back to the window as if she didn’t trust herself to speak or look at him.

Carson stood with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, waiting for her to make the next move.

“I don’t know you.” Deanna’s voice was flat and calm, but he could sense the anger seething just beneath the surface. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Nothing answered Deanna but stillness.

She turned to face him. “Did you know my father?”

“A wise man assumes everyone is his e
nemy—that is, until he meets me,” Carson responded, smiling. “I’m not your enemy, Deanna. I’d really like to be your friend and enjoy the weekend with you and your mother.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Deanna said.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I never met Norman, but I’ve heard nothing but praise of him. He must have been a good man. I’m a good man, too, but don’t mistake goodness for weakness.” He wanted to make sure she knew who was the adult and who was the child.

“And don’t mistake innocence for stupidity,” she retorted.

Hm, well said,
he thought.
She’s a smart, well-spoken kid, uh, child
. Cindy hadn’t warned him that her daughter would be so defensive. Maybe her chubbiness had something to do with it. Well,
chubbiness
was putting it kindly. “I could never do that,” he returned. “Tell you what, though. How’d you like to meet LaBron James?”

“No, thanks. I’m not into basketball.” Her e
xpression remained flat for a moment and then brightened. “Can you introduce me to Soulja Boy and Drake?”

“Uh . . . I’ve heard the names but don’t know them personally. I’ll check with my paper’s entertainment editor and see what I can do. Deal?” He extended his hand.

Deanna smiled for the first time. “Deal,” she said and grasped Carson’s fingers.

Cindy’s shoulders relaxed visibly, and she gave Carson a grateful smile.

* * *

On Saturday, they toured America’s largest home and the world-famous winery at the Biltmore Estate and then drove along the Blue Ridge Parkway to see the highest mountains in the eastern United States. After exploring vibrant downtown Asheville, sho
pping for fine arts and crafts, and visiting an artist’s studio, they toured the neighboring towns of Hot Springs and Black Mountain.

That evening, they dined at the Cafe on the Square, sitting inside the enclosed glass patio and watching the people in Park Square. Carson was car
eful to order the rainbow trout rather than the steak or fried chicken, correctly guessing Deanna would follow his example. Afterwards, they attended a play at the Performing Arts Center.

Sunday morning, they rose early to go whitew
ater rafting, hiked the Appalachian Trail, and enjoyed the view from atop Chimney Rock. At noon, they enjoyed a picnic lunch beside a waterfall before cruising the sky-blue waters of Lake Lure, all in the coolness of March.

In a pamphlet, Cindy discovered a photogr
apher’s studio offering the opportunity to dress in a variety of costumes. Deanna liked the Ma and Pa Kettle outfits and Carson voted for the turn-of-the-century clothing, but Cindy argued for the bride and groom, with Deanna as a junior bridesmaid. The photographer enthusiastically supported Cindy’s choice, telling Deanna how pretty she would look, and eventually the others were won over.

For Carson, Cindy chose a white two-button, single-breasted tuxedo with satin-edged lapels that he thought self-consciously made him look like a plaster groom on a wedding cake.

Deanna’s bridesmaid gown, a beautiful coral color that suited her complexion, had three-quarter trumpet sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Deanna was ecstatic over the scalloped metallic embroidery on the skirt. Holding a beautiful arrangement of pink and white silk carnations and smiling with the excitement of dressing up, she looked pretty despite her chubbiness.

“You look like an angel wrapped in roses,” Ca
rson whispered, and Deanna flushed with pleasure.

Carson had just begun to feel uncomfortable and a bit silly when Cindy appeared dressed in a beautiful white gown with lace appliqués and a detachable royal train. The satin bodice was covered with faux diamonds, elegant full-length white gloves covered her arms up to the elbow. Beneath a veil with a tiara, her hair was swept up in a roll, with curls dangling loosely on each side. She looked so stunning that Carson could hardly breathe.

The photographer was awestruck. She thought Carson was a very handsome man with an unforgettable face. Not surprisingly, the photo came out exceptionally well. They looked like a very happy, attractive family.

* * *

It was late and they had an early flight the next morning so Deanna and Cindy retreated to their bedroom. Carson stayed in the kitchen to read before going up to bed. He sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, staring at the smeary surface of the chipped, old-fashioned Formica tabletop. His thoughts traveled to Katharine. Being back in Asheville made him lonelier than ever for her and for the happy life they once shared. He smiled hard when he reflected on his wedding night.

After more than an hour had passed, he rubbed the back of his neck and stretched his arms. He stepped out on the front porch to take a stroll.

Cindy was sitting on the swing.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Carson asked.

“Deanna’s asleep, and I wanted to inhale some of this fresh night air,” Cindy answered. “Thank you for allowing us to join you this weekend. We had a lot to talk about.” Looking up at Carson, she added, “Deanna had a great time with you.”

“He nodded. “Glad I could be of help.” Then, to break the awkward silence, he added. “I was just about to go for a stroll.”

“Good. I’ll mosey along with you.”

As they roamed side by side across the yard, Carson said, “Even though it’s beautiful here, it’s still dangerous in the dark.”

“Oh, boy. Here we go again.” Cindy rolled her eyes. “And I’m a weak, little woman, right?”

He shook his head. “I’m not about to get into that discussion.”

“Then you think I’m incapable—”

“I’m not giving an opinion one way or another,” he said. “But you do have one habit that irritates me.” He waited for her response, she only looked at him expectantly, so he continued. “You always jump to conclusions.”

Her hand brushed against his as if by accident. “I do?” she asked girlishly.

“Yes, you do.”

She didn’t argue. Whether she knew he was right or was just placating him, he couldn’t tell.

“Well, anyway, she said, “I’ve had a wonderful time with you this weekend.”

She grabbed his hand and moved closer to his side.

Taken by surprise by her show of affection, Ca
rson squeezed her hand and instinctively pulled her toward him. It wasn’t sexual attraction. He just wanted to keep her close for as long as he could.

Cindy seemed to understand what he wanted—Katharine. She put her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

“You were very lonely growing up, weren’t you?” He recognized the tone: kind, concerned, impersonal, professional. That was the therapist in her talking.

“If I was, I didn’t know it,” he answered. Any loneliness he might have felt had been cured when he met and married Katharine. His chin dropped to rest on top of her head, remembering his frugal but r
omantic honeymoon in these very mountains. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the pressure of her body against his. “Until now.”

“Until now?” she whispered into his collar.

“Yes, until now.” He was lonely for his wife—for his children.

Cindy snuggled against him, comforting him, easing his loneliness. He was almost overwhelmed by her gentleness and her understanding. She made him feel . . . complete, somehow. Life had been empty, hollow, terribly cold. Cindy. Sweet, loving Cindy. What was he going to do about her?

He finally forced himself to let go of her, to pull her hands away from him.

“I’m not going to ask you to kiss me,” she said. “You needn’t worry about that.”

Her words shocked him in a pleasant way. For a moment he said nothing. When he did speak, his voice was ragged with emotion. “You should go back to the cabin. It’s starting to get a little cool out.” It had taken everything within him to say it.

Her eyes seemed to sparkle, mirroring the twi
nkling stars. She rubbed her arms. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” Good night then,” she said softly.

“Good night.”

She turned to leave. Carson clasped his hands behind his back and watched her. He was completely caught off guard when she suddenly turned again and threw herself into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.

He tried to stop himself from wrapping her in his embrace as the kiss grew deeper and more passionate. It was wrong, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. The husky little sound she made in the back of her throat intoxicated him. When his hand slid down the curve of her hip, he realized he wanted much more from her and immediately pulled back.

She stared up at him, her eyes misty with passion, and all he wanted was to pull her back into his arms again.