6
D
ean was having a very hard time keeping a straight face. He really didn’t want to offend Catherine now that they’d reached some sort of understanding, but it was downright comical the way she dug into her dessert. It was as if she’d never had cake before. Each bite got special attention. He was beginning to get a little jealous of her devotion to the damn thing. He could leave and she wouldn’t even notice. “You really like cake, huh?”
The fork stopped midway between the plate and her mouth. She glanced across the table at him. “Am I making a spectacle of myself?”
He winked and pushed his plate away, content to watch her. “Not really.”
She gently placed the fork back on the plate. “You’re lying. I am making a spectacle of myself.” She closed her eyes tight and muttered, “Oh wow, now I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” he whispered, pissed at himself for saying anything. She’d let down her guard for a minute and he’d blown it. “I appreciate a woman with a healthy appetite. Hell, you should see Deanna go to town.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your sister is tall and thin and as pretty as a model. I don’t believe for one second that she puts cake away like it’s her last day on earth.”
Dean placed his elbows on the table and leaned closer. “Didn’t you notice when she ate Wade’s chicken parmesan last night?”
She frowned. “No, I guess I didn’t. I was on sensory overload, I think. Meeting and getting to know everyone, it was a lot to take in. I don’t know if you know this, but the Harrison bunch can be pretty overwhelming to a girl who grew up as an only child.”
“Finish your cake and I’ll tell you a secret about Deanna.”
She looked down at her plate and shrugged. “Heck, who am I kidding? I’m not about to let good chocolate go to waste.”
As she picked up the fork, Dean said, “Good, because I don’t really have any secrets to tell.”
As Dean watched her, he became all too aware of how close they were—a few feet of oak was all that separated them. With her preoccupied, Dean let himself look her over. He’d already noticed the way her hair spilled down her back, the softness beckoning him to reach out and smooth his palm down the length. The sweater she wore today was tight. The V-neck hinted at a delicious amount of cleavage, and the dark green shade suited her green eyes. Catherine had the prettiest emerald-green eyes he had ever seen. Almond shaped, like a cat’s eyes. No doubt about it, she was beautiful. But could he trust her? The jury was still out on that one.
“You’re staring at me,” Catherine said as she finished off the last of her cake.
“Men tend to stare at pretty women.”
Her head shot up and her eyes went wide. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”
He chuckled. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” She wiped her mouth on a napkin, then stood and brought her plate to the sink. Dean sat back, content to stare at the sway of her hips. The jeans she wore today weren’t quite as tight as the others had been, but they were no less sexy. He watched her bend over to pick up the fork she’d dropped, and Dean nearly drooled at the view he was provided of her ass. When she placed the utensil in the sink and turned to lean against the counter, Dean was afforded a lovely view from the front.
“So tell me, Dean, do you often serve cake to strange women, or is this a unique experience?”
She was digging into his personal life. Dean was content to play along because he sure as hell intended to dig into hers. “With so many pretty ladies in the world?” he replied. “It’d be downright selfish of me to give all my chocolate cake to just one, don’t you think?”
Her lips kicked up at the corners. “I see your point, but is there a special one in the bunch?”
He quirked a brow. Subtlety wasn’t Catherine’s strong suit. “Are you trying to find out if I’m single, Catherine?”
Her nose shot up in the air. “Well, yeah.”
He liked how blunt she could be when the need called for it. “Yes, I’m unattached and plan to stay that way.” Linda’s deceitful face clouded his vision for a second before he managed to snuff it out. “I’ll leave marriage and babies up to my brother and sister.” No way would he ever consider going down that road again.
She moved to sit back in her chair, then leaned her arms on the table and asked, “Why? You don’t want to be a father someday?”
Red flags went up in Dean’s head. Too damn personal. He decided it was time to flip the spotlight back onto her, the way he liked it. “What about you? Do you have a man back in Atlanta?”
She shook her head, and Dean felt all the blood in his body go south at the knowledge that she wasn’t already claimed. “I haven’t had much luck in the dating department.”
“That’s hard to believe. How is it that a guy hasn’t caught you and wiggled a ring onto your dainty finger?”
She glanced down and began tapping out a rhythm on the table. “Eh, I’ve dated,” she answered, “but nothing too serious. And lately all my concentration has been on dealing with my parents’ estate.”
“Why do you do that?”
She stopped and looked up at him. “Huh?”
He pointed to her fingers. “You tap whenever you’re thinking about something or nervous.”
“Oh, that. It’s so automatic sometimes that I don’t realize I’m doing it. I’m sorry. My friend Mary says it’s annoying.”
“Not at all.” He shrugged. “I only brought it up because I was curious.”
There was a lull in the conversation, and Dean wondered where Catherine’s mind had drifted off to. It was a unique experience, sitting across the table with a woman on a Saturday afternoon and chatting. Usually if he wasn’t in bed with a woman, then he had little use for them. It was a callous attitude and he knew it, but it was one he’d been content with, until now. Somewhere over the years he’d become a complete ass.
“I took piano lessons when I was little,” she explained, yanking him out of his depressing thoughts. “My piano teacher, Mrs. Clover, wasn’t a very nice woman. I can still hear her angry voice scolding me for not hitting the proper keys. I didn’t take more than a few lessons, but that’s when I developed the tapping thing. Like a nervous tick, I suppose.”
Dean could easily picture Catherine as a young girl. Cute red pigtails and light brown freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. It pissed him off when he imagined her being reprimanded by some incompetent teacher. “Sounds like your teacher had no business being around kids.”
“Mama said pretty much the same thing at the time.” She propped her head on her fist and said, “I suppose for the most part Mrs. Clover was a decent-enough teacher, but she always made me so nervous.”
“Are you nervous with me, Catherine?”
“No.” She hesitated a moment before saying, “Yes.”
He didn’t want that. He wanted her at ease. “You don’t need to be nervous around me, sweetheart.”
She snorted. “You don’t like me very much. You’ve admitted as much. That tends to make a person nervous.”
He shook his head. “No, I never said I didn’t like you. I said I don’t trust you. There’s a difference.”
She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair. “That doesn’t make me feel loads better.”
“I’m sorry.” Dean wanted to reassure her, to tell her something that would put her mind to rest, but it’d be a lie.
She pointed to him. “Time,” she said. “That’s what you need. Time to see that I’m not the devil you think I am.”
She captivated him. Sitting across his table so determined to prove him wrong. He hoped she did, because then he’d be able to do more than look at her delectable siren’s body. The little green-eyed beauty had no idea how tempted he was in that moment. His bed wasn’t all that far away. Within seconds he could have her in it. But nothing had changed since the moment he’d met her. She was still a stranger attempting to insinuate herself into his family, and he still didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Dean decided it was time to change the subject. “So, what do you and Gracie have planned while you’re in town?”
She turned her head and looked at the time on the stove before answering. “We’re meeting later today to do some shopping. She wants to show me around the area a bit.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It’ll be my first time to shop with my sister.” Her voice shook a little. “It’s a little surreal still.”
“I can imagine.” He paused before adding, “And if I know Gracie I bet she has a whole list of things in store for the two of you. She’ll run you ragged if you aren’t careful.”
She laughed, and Dean’s cock stiffened. God, she had a cute laugh. “Yeah, she’s already mentioned taking me to some nightclub tonight.”
Every muscle in Dean’s body went rigid. “A nightclub?”
She nodded. “The Pit, she called it. Gracie says it just opened recently.” She cocked a brow at him. “Have you heard of it?”
For some reason the thought of Catherine at a nightclub bothered him. She’d be surrounded by men, and they’d all want to get in her pants. To hell with that. “Yeah, it’s a nice place, but are you sure that’s such a good idea?” he asked. “Two women alone and all?”
“Oh, Wade is going with us. I think he likes to make sure Gracie’s safe. Gracie says he’s not quite over the stalker thing yet.” She swiped a stray crumb off her sweater. “I can’t blame him really. I wouldn’t be either.”
Dean recalled the ugly incident several months ago. “They both landed in the hospital. It’s not something any of us will soon forget.”
All the color left her face. “Oh, God. Gracie told me about some of it, but not that part. I suspect she glossed over the uglier details.”
“What
did
she say?”
“Only that some sicko had been stalking her.” Her brows scrunched together. “The creep broke into her apartment and trashed it. And before Wade could catch him, the guy kidnapped her. But Wade and Jonas saved her.”
“They did save her, but not before Wade got shot and Gracie got cut up. Scared the daylights out of all of us.”
She slapped a hand over her heart. “God, that’s awful! Gracie must have been so scared.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “So be careful at the club tonight. Like I said, it’s a nice place, but there are drunken assholes in the nice clubs too.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you worried about me?”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “I’m worried about Gracie,” he answered, which wasn’t quite the truth. “She’d be upset if something happened to you.”
“Oh,” she said in a faraway voice, “of course.”
He’d made her sad. Well, hell.
Great going, asshole.
Seeing her sad made him uncomfortable. “Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“I might have lied,” he growled. “I’m sorry.”
He eyes widened. “You did?”
“It’s not only Gracie I’m concerned about. I don’t want anything to happen to you because . . . well, just because.” Christ, how had he gone from wishing she’d disappear to wanting to see her smile? The woman was dangerous to his peace of mind.
For several seconds she didn’t speak. Finally she asked, “Um, so Gracie said you own your own construction company.”
He chuckled at the abrupt subject change. “Yep. It does a pretty good business these days actually.”
She stood and walked around the room. He noted the way she avoided his gaze. “Did you build this house?”
“This one and several others around here.” Catherine was an enigma. Blunt and sure of herself, but there was a touch of vulnerability there too, Dean thought.
She smoothed a palm down the granite countertop and hummed her approval. “You do excellent work.”
She was doing her best not to look at him, and Dean didn’t like it. “Thanks, but I’d rather you look at me.”
Her head swiveled around and their gazes locked. “Why?”
He got to his feet and crossed the room. Once he was within inches of her, Dean murmured, “Because I like it when you look at me with those pretty green eyes. Got a problem with that?”
“I-I think I need to get back to the hotel. I need to get ready for my shopping trip with Gracie. Besides, I’ve taken up plenty of your time already.” Her gaze quickly darted away again, as if suddenly finding his refrigerator fascinating.
“Do you plan on buying something pretty to wear to The Pit while out shopping today?”
His question had the desired effect. She turned her head and looked up at him. “Maybe,” she whispered. “I didn’t really bring anything along on this trip appropriate for a nightclub.”
Dean imagined her wearing a little black dress, one that showed off her figure to perfection. He thought of how sexy she’d be out on the dance floor, her hips moving to the beat of a slow, seductive song. His dick hardened beneath the fly of his jeans. Without thinking, he said, “And maybe I’ll see if Wade and Gracie have room for one more tonight.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You want to go out with us? Seriously?”