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He tucked his hands into the pockets of his overalls and walked away. No need to rush things, not now that it was all falling into place. A man had the right to enjoy his rewards, and he fully intended to do exactly that.
By the time he reached his truck, he was whistling.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CASSIE dug into her chicken salad, swigged down a mouthful of iced tea, looked across the table at Dawn and decided she’d never find out what was happening between her friend and Gray Baron if she went on being subtle.
For days now, ever since Dawn had admitted she was seeing Gray, Cassie had said things like, “How’re things going?” “Is the guy as nice as he seems?” “How long’s he going to stay in Vegas?” In response to which Dawn, big talker that she was, said, “Fine,” “Yes,” and, even more succinctly, “I don’t know.”
Cassie took another forkful of salad. It was obviously time for a more direct approach.
“So,” she said, “are you sleeping with him yet?”
Dawn choked on her grilled cheese, coughed and held up a hand while she gulped down some water.
“Ask me something personal, why don’t you?” she said, when she could talk.
Cassie grinned. “You know me. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead. Fire when you see the whites of their eyes.”
“It’s don’t fire until you see the whites of their eyes.”
“Either way it’s the same thing. I could have asked you last night, on the phone, but I didn’t. I figured I’d wait until I could look right at you and know if you were giving me a truthful answer or not.”
“Why should I give you any answer?” Dawn said reasonably.
“Because I’m your best friend?”
“You are, yes, but that doesn’t mean—”
“You’re sleeping with him. Don’t shake your head. I can tell. If you weren’t, you’d just laugh and say I was crazy, or you’d give me that look you get whenever I try to convince you there’s no reason for you to live like a nun.” She beamed smugly, stabbed a piece of chicken and popped it into her mouth. “So, how is he?”
“I’ve already told you,” Dawn said, deliberately misunderstanding the question. “He’s a very nice man.”
“In bed. How is he in bed?” Cassie rolled her eyes. “Wonderful, I bet. Gorgeous. Inexhaustible. Knows every page of the Kama Sutra by heart… What?” she said, when Dawn started to laugh. “The Kama Sutra isn’t funny.” She giggled. “Well, maybe it is. Did you ever take a really good look at some of those illustrations?”
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I’m interested, only because I want you to be happy…and because my own love life sucks and I’m hoping for a couple of vicarious thrills. Seriously, is he wonderful?”
“Yes,” Dawn said simply. “He is, Cass. I’ve never known a man like him.”
“A stud, huh?” Cassie spoke briskly, but her smile was soft.
“He’s—he’s everything a woman could want. Strong. Tender. Caring.” Dawn pushed her sandwich aside. “And he’s fun, too. We went to the movies the other night—”
“The movies,” Cassie said, and sighed. “A big date.”
“That’s the way it felt. I mean, it was just a movie but we had such a good time. It was that theater doing that romantic comedy retrospective, you know the one? They were playing Sleepless in Seattle and afterward, on the way home, Gray did the Tom Hanks part and I did Meg Ryan, and we laughed because he sounded more like Martin Short trying to do Tom Hanks than Tom Hanks, and…” She laughed softly. “Do I sound completely insane?”
“No,” Cassie said. She put down her fork and reached across the table to give Dawn’s hand a squeeze. “You sound like a woman i
n love.”
“Oh, I’m not. In love. I’m—I’m…” Dawn caught her lip between her teeth. “I can’t be in love,” she said quietly.
“Jeez Louise, puh-leeze don’t give me that `I’m still married’ routine again! You’re not married, not in any way that matters. Besides, this is the twenty-first century. They don’t burn you at the stake for falling for another guy, especially when your husband is such a bastard that you’re terrified of even trying to divorce him.” Cassie paused. “Unless there’s a complication I don’t know about, like, Mr. Right wants you to marry him.”
“No.” Dawn touched her napkin to her mouth and placed it on the table. “Nothing like that.”
