Page 71 of The Rented Bride

Chapter Thirteen

Cassie stared at her cell phone, which sat on the desk in front of her. She hadn’t discussed with Trent about staying in communication. She just assumed they’d talk if they needed to. It had been two days since she left, and Trent hadn’t called. That had to mean James was all right. Still, she worried what he would think of her. Didn’t a new wife call home? Trent could always tell him she’d called, but wouldn’t James be disappointed if she didn’t speak with him at least once while she was away?

Cassie blew out a frustrated breath. She was more concerned with what James thought of her than the man she’d been dreaming about. Geez, the dreams. Trent’s hands on her breasts, his mouth melded with hers and his body…. She ached to feel the weight of him on top of her. In her dreams, there was nothing between them but passion.

But she lived in reality. She had to remember that she and Trent had a business arrangement. If she called, it would be strictly business. But that last night they’d spent together didn’t feel like business. Neither had the morning after. When Trent had tucked her hair behind her ear her heart had pounded so loudly she’d been sure he could hear its beat.

She picked up the phone, then set it back down. Dammit, things would be so much simpler if she could convince herself that James was the reason she wanted to call. But she wasn’t stupid, and James hadn’t taken up residence in her thoughts. She would just have to force herself to forget about Trent—at least until she had to see him again. She stared at the phone another minute. If she kept too much of a distance he might consider her in breach of contract. He was paying her well to pretend to be his wife, and wives called home.

Cassie picked up the phone and was peeved to see her fingers tremble. Get over it, she ordered, and pulled up Trent’s number. She tapped the screen and started to put the phone to her ear. No, speakerphone. Much more businesslike. She almost fumbled the phone in an effort to tap the speakerphone icon. A ringtone sounded, then another and another before Trent picked up.

“Hi,” Cassie said before Trent’s voice came over the line. “You’ve reached Trent Weston. I’m away at the moment. Please leave a message.” Panic streaked through her. Did she hang up or leave a message? She started to hit the end call button. Then realized he might worry. Crap, she didn’t really have anything to say. The phone beeped.

“Uh, Trent, it’s Cassie. I was just calling to see how things are with your grandfather. Tell him I said hello.” She hung up, then lowered her head to her desk and softly banged her forehead against the wood. He was going to think she was so stupid. He would be right.

Her phone blared. She jumped back then scrambled to pick it up. Trent— Her heart fell. It was her mother. Cassie tapped the speakerphone before realizing that she would rather not speak to her mother just yet. Mom had been in Jacksonville visiting cousins when Cassie returned, so they hadn’t seen each other yet, which had suited Cassie just fine. She would have loved to have avoided her mother until her business with Trent was finished. But no such luck.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Cassandra, it’s late. I tried calling your home, but no answer. Are you still at work?”

That was her mother. No ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘how was your trip?’ Regardless of her age, Cassie would always be accountable to her mother. Sometimes an overbearing family could be an annoyance.

She checked the clock. Only ten. “It’s not that late, and yes, I’m still at work.”

“You work too hard.”

“I have a big party in two days and I still have a thousand things to do.” And she did, but she could be home catching up on sleep. Truth was, she hadn’t wanted to go home. Her little bungalow, her haven, had been strangely silent last night. She couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts were too tangled around Trent. When she got home tonight, she wanted to fall into bed exhausted. No dreaming. No thoughts at all. Another couple of hours would do the trick.

Her mother’s voice pulled her back to the conversation. “What’s that, Mom?”

“Will you come for dinner tomorrow night?” her mother said.

Normally, that’s exactly what Cassie would do. Now, however…

“Your Uncle Bobby will be here.”

“Bobby?” Cassie said. The great uncle who her youngest brother was named after. “When did he come into town?”

“He’ll be here tomorrow. So I expect you for dinner.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl. How was your trip to Colorado? Was it the big break you hoped it would be?”

Cassie closed her eyes. She’d known her mother would ask. Of course she would ask. “Every event has its unexpected incidences.”

“You don’t sound happy. What happened?”

“Nothing more than the usual. Late deliveries, not enough servers. You know how it goes. In the end, the party was a success and the client was happy.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Then your client was lucky you stepped in when you did.”

“Yes.”

“Six o’clock tomorrow,” her mother said. “Your uncle Bobby is old. We don’t know how many years he has left.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll be there.” Family. That was all anyone really had.