Michele Dunaway - Sweeping The Bride Away

Sending Jake after Cassidy was like sending Christians to the lions.

Jake grinned. “Blade, my man, we are now on our way into Houston old money society, and I have just the plan to get us there.”

Blade frowned. Jake’s ideas involving women and Blade often backfired. “Yeah, well let’s hope it doesn’t leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Money never leaves a bad taste, Blade,” Jake chided. “It’s time you learned that. Yep, high time you learned that, especially when the babe is hot. Now you listen to me, and I’ll tell you what we are going to do.”

CASSIDY COULDN’T BELIEVE her luck. A man named Jake from J & B Construction had called and told her that his company would do her work. Even better, he’d told her that J & B was licensed by the city and oversaw a crew that would do the job.

She pushed a loose strand of blond hair back off of her face. Jake had told her someone would come over at four-thirty. She’d be his last appointment of the day.

The doorbell rang, and she threw it open.

“I saw your car and since I knew you were home, I came over to discuss the flowers.”

“Lillian!” Cassidy managed to step out of the way before Lillian barged right in. “I’m meeting with the contractor.”

Lillian stopped and peered over her glasses. “Is he here?”

“Not yet. Any minute.”

Lillian didn’t look too concerned. “Well then, you have plenty of time.”

“No, I don’t.” Cassidy tried anyway, but as always, protests with Lillian were useless.

“I talked it over with Dan this morning and he agreed with me.”

Of course he had, Cassidy thought. He’d just smiled and nodded, just like his father did when Lillian got her teeth into something.

“Orchids. We’ll be doing orchids. I think that’s the perfect flower, and we’ll get them at Estelle’s. All I need to tell her is the color, although honestly I think we’ll be sticking with pure white. You do agree white is best, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Cassidy said in resignation, giving Lillian a smile and a nod. Anything to get Lillian out of the house.

The last thing Cassidy needed was Lillian scaring off the contractor. She’d done enough damage with the city inspector.

“Excellent. I’ve also booked the church for 3:00 p.m., June 10. An afternoon wedding is best, and your rehearsal dinner is the night before. I’m still choosing the location. I can’t decide between The Ryan Room or Gillamaine’s.” Lillian stopped to draw a rare breath. “We also have a private appointment tomorrow evening at Monica’s Boutique to find you an appropriate wedding dress.”

“I thought I’d wear my mother’s dress,” Cassidy said. “It’s in a box in the attic, and…”

Lillian’s mouth dropped open in surprise and she looked as if Cassidy had grown another head. “That won’t do, dear, especially with your parents getting divorced. Heavens, no.” Lillian shook her head vehemently. “Tomorrow evening at six. We’ll be the only ones in the shop. I’ll pick you up at five. You know how traffic can be.”

Cassidy gave Lillian another smile and nod before panic struck. Was that a truck pulling into the driveway? It was. Not good. Somehow Cassidy managed to usher Lillian to the door and got her through it. “See you tomorrow, Lillian.”

Cassidy leaned back against the door and took a moment to sigh with relief. Home safe.

“Oh, you must be the contractor,” she heard Lillian say.

Nope, out at third. Cassidy threw open the front door and walked out. The Ford 350 truck now sitting in her driveway looked as if it had known better days. Red with faded black lettering on the passenger side door, it proudly proclaimed to be from J & B Construction.

“You are the contractor, right?” Lillian asked.

“That would be me, ma’am.”

Great. Lillian was already engaging the contractor in conversation. Did the infernal woman ever stop talking? Cassidy bit her lip and sped up. Wearing heels didn’t help.

Worse, once again she’d had a mean thought about Lillian. That was so unlike herself. She usually had such good manners and polite thoughts.

And just when had the front walk gotten so long? Finally Cassidy reached the back of the truck. The contractor had his back to her, with Lillian facing him. He stood about six-six and had a nice posterior. Great, Cassidy thought. One night with Sara and now she was looking at everyone.

Cassidy paused just a moment, turning around to take a second look at something she’d at first only caught in the periphery of her eye.

Just what did that homemade back license plate say? Power Strokers do it better? Dear Lord. Don’t let Lillian see that.

“What’s that license plate mean?”

Too late.

“It’s the engine. Ford has a diesel power stroke.”

Cassidy saw Lillian nod as if she understood. “I see,” Lillian said. “But shouldn’t you have a real license plate?”

“Trucks over a certain gross vehicle weight don’t need back plates. We pull trailers.”

“Oh. So that plate really isn’t a sexual thing at all.”

“Uh, well,” the contractor began.

Cassidy rolled her eyes and stepped closer. Time to interrupt before someone got himself in deep trouble with the matriarch of the Houston morality police. “Hi, I’m Cassidy Clayton. I believe you’re looking for me.”

As he turned around, she gasped. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Jake had said…

Mistake number five didn’t look surprised to see her. Instead he gave her a wide smile.

“Hello again,” he said. “I’m here to do your work.”

LILLIAN GLANCED over her glasses, her gaze speculative. “You two have met?”

“Yes,” he said, his gaze never leaving Cassidy’s.

“No,” she said, wrenching hers away.

Lillian’s head turned from one to another as if she were watching a championship Ping-Pong match. “So which is it?”

“No, we haven’t met,” Cassidy inserted quickly. She gave the man a wide smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She had never thought she would see him again! After all, wasn’t he a president? He really was a one-man, well, a two-man operation. After talking to a receptionist, and then Jake, she’d hoped otherwise.

“We just talked on the phone today. This is my contractor, uh…” After rolling his name on her tongue all day, now she couldn’t get his name out.

“Blade,” he finished smoothly, returning her fake smile with an infuriatingly real, and extremely sexy, one of his own.

“Blade,” Cassidy repeated. She shot him a warning glance and hoped the man had enough brain cells upstairs to figure out what she meant—keep quiet.

Seemingly satisfied with the explanation, Lillian broke into a small smile. “So, you’re doing all the repairs on Cassidy’s house?”

“That’s what I intend on doing,” he replied. His tone insinuated to Cassidy that there might be more to his plan. Cassidy shifted on her feet.

“Oh, good,” Lillian said, seeming not to notice the sexual undercurrents as she warmed to a topic she knew way too well. “Cassidy needs to get rid of this house quickly. Thank goodness it closes in two weeks. I mean, you heard why she has to sell it didn’t you? Her philandering father left her mother for a younger woman and…”

Great. One more complication to her already hectic life. Now the infernal contractor, Blade—she got his name right this time—knew her personal business. First things first. Time to get Lillian moving toward her own home.

“I doubt he really cares about my parents’ problems, Lillian,” Cassidy said. Relying on her training as an image consultant, she froze her smile in place and hoped that Lillian would get the subtle message. Instead Lillian looked confused.