The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (12 page)

"I already told you," she said, watching the sleek muscles work in his back. She wished his trousers weren't so loose so she could see the muscles there as well.

"Yes, but you lied."

"I did not."

He sighed. "Okay, then let me rephrase my question. What made you change your mind?"

"Common sense."

He was quiet.

"I'm not what you're looking for, especially if you want to marry. My ex-husband could tell you that." She rested her head back, trying not to remember her encounter with Timothy. "I'm too much woman for most men."

Once again Drake didn't respond as she expected. He threw down the scrub brush with such force that the boom echoed throughout the kitchen. He swore and sat back on his heels, pinning her with intense eyes. "That bastard called or came by and made you change your mind about me, didn't he?"

"He didn't make me do anything," Cassie protested, stunned by his vehemence. "I'm just telling you the truth."

Drake didn't hear her, he was scrubbing the oven again, too busy cursing Timothy under his breath and creating various scenarios of what he would do if he ever saw him.

"Drake," she sanctioned after hearing a rather vicious scenario.

His tone was hard. "What?"

It was clear he was in no mood to be scolded. "Never mind."

He completed cleaning the stove, washed his hands, then headed for the living room. "What did you want to show me?" He sat on the couch.

Cassie placed an album on his lap and opened it.

"This is my family," she said. "This is my mother." She pointed to a striking woman stretched out on a garden lounger. "This is my father." He stood next to her mother with a smile barely touching his somber face. "These are my two brothers and sister." She gestured to two kids, posing like models for a magazine, and one young man with his face turned away. "And this is me." She tapped the image of a girl smiling shyly at the camera, hidden behind her father. "Now all you have to do is figure out what is wrong with this picture. And please don't worry about hurting my feelings. They need to get trampled on every once in a while or they feel deprived."

Drake felt his stomach clench. He frantically searched the picture trying to find what she wanted him to respond to. She had presented him with a test. Instinctively, he knew he was going to fail.

"I need to make a comparison first," he said, turning to the next page.

Cassie anxiously watched him, wondering what he would say that would end their acquaintance. That would give her the fuel and stamina to throw him out of her life forever. Impatience threatened to consume her as she stared at him. Her anxiety soon turned to bewilderment—he was enjoying himself.

He went through her album as if he had discovered an antique volume. He carefully turned the pages and lightly ran his hands over certain photos, mostly pictures of her, at times asking questions about the other people in them and nodding absently when she replied.

Not once did he mention how out of place she looked. He didn't say, "Wow! This is your mom?" or "You don't look anything like your family" or "You were a big girl." Instead, he commented on the different trips and the things they did as a family, sounding almost awestruck.

"This is a great album," he said, bending over a picture that celebrated her sister Melody's sixteenth birthday. "I don't see anything wrong with it. Thanks for sharing it with me. No one has ever shown me their family album before. You have a wonderful family."

"You could conclude this from a few pictures?" she asked dryly. She knew she was being unfair to him, but couldn't help it. He annoyed her by being purposefully obtuse. She wanted his true reaction. He could mask his feelings so well. "My mother is disgusted with me. My father ignores me, as do my siblings, Melody and Lewis, unless they want something, and I haven't seen or heard from my older brother, Clarence, in years. My mother calls only to complain."

He closed the album and laid it on the table. "That shows she cares."

Cassie tapped her foot. "What are you, an orphan? Any parent is a good parent?" She held up her hands before he could reply. "No, wait. I bet you had the perfect parents and that's why you can't imagine how I can whine about mine. You're convinced I'm overreacting because you believe in marriage and family and all the wonderful things it brings. Without love of course, just a sense of duty and commitment."

Drake's expression didn't change, but his amber eyes darkened like a hot flame. He glanced away before she could read the expression, but she knew she had hurt him. Somehow, she had hit upon a wound that he had carefully hidden and that she had now forced open to bleed. Remorse struck her. Many words of apology came to her lips, but she didn't know how to apologize without embarrassing him.

She reached for the album, eager to end the afternoon. The man made her feel and say things she always ended up regretting. "Thanks for lunch."

He rested a hand on her arm, stopping her. "Is that my cue to leave? Because I'm not."

"Why?"

"I don't want to," he said simply.

Cassie chewed on her lip. "I'm sorry about what I said."

He removed his hand and offered her a quick forgiving smile. "Don't worry. My shoulders are wide."

Not that wide, she thought. She'd never seen such a flash of pain cross through someone's eyes—tangible enough to cause her heart to constrict.

"I know I failed your test," he said. "But I'm not leaving until I know what's going on."

"Nothing." She scooted away from him. "I'm just not interested in you. Besides, I'm seeing someone," she added hastily.

"But the other day you said—"

"I know, things change."

Drake shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm not surprised. You're an attractive woman. Of course you'll have casual dates, but I doubt you'll need them anymore."

Cassie feigned a cough to keep from laughing. He spoke as if her social life were filled with a man every night. Poor disillusioned man. "Drake, I'll say this once more. I'm not interested."

He sent her a black layered look. "If you weren't so scared, you'd be on me like sweet on a sugarcane."

She sucked in a sharp, astonished breath. "That's not true."

"All right." He drew her close, his eyes professing a test of his own. "Then resist me."

Her heart shuddered unexpectedly. "What?"

"You heard me." His voice was calm, his gaze steady. "Resist me." He removed the throw. "Try really hard." His fingers sensuously stroked her arm, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to become alert. "Very hard." He teased her lips as he cupped one of her breasts, gently massaging it with his large hand, his thumb brushing her hard nipple with tantalizing mastery. His hot lips slid to her neck and shoulders, trapping any amount of protest in her throat. She shut her eyes, savoring the feel of his hard body pressed against hers. She heard the thud of his heartbeat and smelled the musky scent of aftershave, contributing to the heady sensation in her mind. She wanted to bask in the sense of being safe, being beautiful, being wanted. "I'm waiting," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

"I can't," she admitted, both ashamed and freed by her honesty.

Pleasure deepened his tone. "I know."

She turned her head away. "You don't understand." And for a moment she was glad. She wanted him to be completely unaware of the truth that would separate them, but she was certain he already knew what it was.

Drake brushed his lips over her now swollen ones. "Tell me then."

Cassie stared at him for a moment, amazed at the heat of emotion that darkened his eyes. Her gaze slid away from his, then returned. "I'm the black sheep in the family."

Some of the fire diminished as he considered this. "And that means?"

She wanted to shake him. "I'm the heaviest one and I really don't want to be a circus act."

He blinked. "What?"

"The fat woman and her gorgeous companion."

"What are you talking about? Who's gorgeous? I'm an ordinary guy and you're not fat."

She lifted the label on the back of her shirt. "Would my dress size convince you?"

He halted for a moment, trying to process what she had said. His jaw suddenly tightened and his eyes flashed with anger, but his voice remained calm. "Are you going to tell me that this is all about your weight? That you hid from me and then left me waiting in a restaurant because of your size?"

"Don't make it sound ridiculous."

He moved away, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't help it, because it is. I thought perhaps your hesitation had to do with your ex-husband or another bad experience, but this makes no sense. What next? You'll worry about the shape of my ears or whether or not my teeth are crooked?"

Cassie wrapped the throw around her again. "There is no reason to be sarcastic. You're the one who seems to want a relationship. The issue was going to come up eventually."

Drake clenched his jaw tighter, unable to believe he was having this discussion—not when she looked so warm and soft cuddled up on the couch. He stood and began to pace to release energy. He couldn't understand the absurdity of it all. "How could it come up, when it doesn't even matter?"

Fury almost choked her. "Doesn't matter?" Cassie stood and poked him in the arm as he passed her. "Of course it matters! Don't pretend to be blind. That's even worse than admitting your true feelings. I know I'm funny and I know I'm cute, but I also know where I have to shop: the big beauties and luscious ladies section. My bras cost more than some outfits. Being with a big woman is expensive, you know." Once again he didn't laugh at her humor. She rolled her eyes. "Drake, I like you, but will you please honesty look at me?" She let the throw fall from her shoulders. "I clean up quite well, but there's one fact that's hard to hide. Trust me, I've tried."

"So if I gain a few pounds you'll be okay?"

"Don't be silly."

"You've based your entire argument on looks. Because of the way I look you don't want to go out with me."

She held her head for a moment. "Haven't you listened to a word I've said?"

"Words? You've been speaking gibberish."

"Okay. Then let me try, thickheaded man. I'm very fluent. How will you feel when you tell people about your girlfriend and you have to show a picture of me? Or when we go out to eat and people stare, wondering what an athletic guy like you is doing with a woman like me? You're not used to the stares, but I promise you they'll come. How will you feel when your family asks to meet me?"

He stopped pacing and folded his arms, piercing her with a stare that left her paralyzed. "Proud. I will feel proud that a beautiful woman of class, grace, and wit is mine to claim."

She was too stunned to think of a ready reply.

Drake took that opportunity to continue. "I have no problem with your size," he said, appreciating her figure in one sweeping glance, making her face burn. "If
you
have a problem with being a nice healthy woman, then deal with it."

Her tongue returned to her. "A healthy woman," she scoffed. "What a lovely euphemism for fat."

He arched one black brow and began to pace again. "You're not fat, you're confused."

"Confused?"

He nodded.

She poked him in the arm. "What planet did you fall from?"

"One that's infinitely more rational than yours."

"You think I'm some shallow, naive woman who's blown this completely out of proportion, right?"

"I don't think you're shallow or naive," he said carefully. "But I know you're blowing this out of proportion."

"I see." She'd make him pay for that. She would show him how dating her would really be. Since he felt comfortable with her, he assumed everyone else would be the same. Perhaps like her, he was involved in a fantasy of his own and while they were the only ones in this dream, inviting others would restore his sight. An idea formed in her mind. She would show him what it was really like to date a full-figured woman and how much their personalities differed. She began to feel powerful, knowing that she would win this battle. "Aside from the fact that you'd never be able to handle me, I like my men more outgoing."

He stopped pacing. "I can adjust."

"You can't change who you are."

"I didn't say I'd change. I said I'd adjust."

Cassie toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Okay, you believe that we don't need to worry about my size, right?"

He grasped her hand. Her fingers against his chest had begun to distract him. "Not we, you."

"Fine. I'll give us a chance," she said easily, all signs of her previous anger gone. "I'm willing to try new experiences. My friend Kevin is having a party next Friday. I'm going. Would you like to join me?" She hadn't planned to go but she would now.

Drake let her hand go and stared at her warily. She had become too agreeable. That meant she was up to something. Fortunately, he was always ready for a challenge. "Sure."

"Great. Pick me up at nine and dress casual."

* * *

"You're taking her to a party?" Eric asked, staring at Drake in shock. "You hate parties. You either close up like a fly trap or end up talking about food."

Eric stood near the mirror with Malcolm, while his sister, Jackie, sat on the bed. They had come over for lunch and now they all looked at Drake as if debating whether they should commit him to an institution or not.

"So?" Drake replied, unconcerned. "She likes them and I can compromise." He laid out two shirts, trying to decide which to wear.

"You can't even dance."

He picked up a charcoal-gray shirt. "I can move."

"In rhythm?"

Drake glared at him, then began buttoning his shirt.

"You should have told us this before so that we could give you the perfect excuse to cancel."

"I don't plan to cancel."

"You're going to hate it."

"Eric, leave him alone, "Jackie scolded. "Cassie must be some woman to make him go through all this trouble."

"She is something." Malcolm snickered. "A whole lot of—"

Malcolm's statement was aborted when Drake shoved him against the wall, his hand grasping his collar, all of Cassie's accusations rushing back into his mind. He had enough trouble with Cassie believing such nonsense. He would not allow others to lend credence to her claim. "Would you like to discover the wonders of wearing dentures?"