Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
“I just need someone who’s good with advertising,” Cassie muttered as she stared down at the new plans for her riding school for handicapped children.
“How about that hunky agent you’re shacking up with?”
Cassie threw a glare across the room at her sister. Tessa silently volleyed back a wicked grin.
“We’re not shacking up.” Not technically, anyway. “And that’s not his job.”
“Maybe not,” Tessa replied, coming to her feet. “But he’d know more about it than we would, and I guarantee he’d do anything to help you.”
More than likely, but Cassie wasn’t going to ask. Venturing into personal favors would imply something...something they’d yet to identify in their relationship.
Yes, they’d admitted they had strong feelings for each other, but after the giant leap into intimacy, they’d pulled back the emotional roller coaster and examined where they were going.
And they still didn’t know.
Cassie spoon-fed another bite of squash and rice to Emily.
Right now she needed to focus on the final race of the season, getting her school properly advertised and caring for her daughter.
Ian, unfortunately, would have to fall in line behind all of that and she highly doubted he would want to.
What man would? He deserved more than waiting on her leftover time.
“You’re scowling.” Tessa came to stand beside the high chair and leaned against the wall. “What’s really bothering you?”
Sisters. They always knew when to dig deeper and pull the truth from the depths of hell just to make you say the words aloud.
“Ian is out to dinner with Lily.”
A quirk of a smile danced around Tessa’s mouth. “You’re jealous? Honey, the man is absolutely crazy about you. All you’d have to do is see how he looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.”
The idea that he studied her enough to show emotion on his face for others to see made her way more thrilled than she should be.
She wanted to tell him she’d fallen for him—she wanted to tell everybody.
But there was that annoying little voice that kept telling her this was too good to be true and that she needed to come back to reality before she ended up hurt.
“He’s not like Derek,” Tessa informed her as if she were reading her mind. “Ian may be younger, but he’s all man and he’s only got eyes for you.”
Cassie smiled with a nod and scooped up the last bite, shoving it into Emily’s waiting mouth. “I know. There’s just that thread of doubt that gets to me, and I know it’s not Ian’s fault. He can’t help the mess that is my life.”
Laying a hand over Cassie’s arm, Tessa squeezed. “Your life is beautiful. You have a precious baby, an awesome career and the best sister anyone could ever ask for. What more could a girl want?”
To be loved. The words remained in her head, in her heart.
“So where’s your guy tonight?” Cassie asked, wiping off the orange, messy mouth, hoping to unearth her daughter. “You two aren’t normally separated for more than an hour at a time.”
With a smile that could only be equated to love, Tessa positively beamed. “He’s going over some things with Bronson and Anthony. I’m pretty sure Dad weaseled his way into that meeting, as well.”
Cassie scooped Emily from the high chair and settled her on her hip. “I’ve no doubt Dad is weighing in with his opinion. I need to give her a bath. You sticking around?”
Shaking her head, Tessa sighed and started across the living room. “I think I’ll head home and make some dinner. It’s not often I get to cook for Grant, and he’s worked so hard lately. He needs to relax.”
Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to hear about you two relaxing. Just a simple no would’ve answered my question.”
With a naughty laugh, Tessa grabbed her keys from the entry table and waved. “See you tomorrow.”
Once Cassie was alone, she couldn’t help that her thoughts drifted to Ian, to the days they’d spent at his home in L.A. and to the fact he’d taken such good care of her sweet Emily.
Yes, the man may be five years her junior, but so what? Her ex-husband had been two years older and look how well that had turned out. Cassie couldn’t hang a single argument on age, not when Ian went above and beyond to show her just what type of man he was.
After Emily was bathed and dressed in her lightweight sleeper, Cassie set some toys on a blanket and let her daughter have some playtime before bed.
Settling on the couch, curling her legs to the side, Cassie rested her elbow on the arm of the sofa and watched Emily smack soft yellow and red cubes together, making them jingle.
Exhaustion consumed her, but how could she not be tired? Her plate was not only full—it was overflowing. Physically, mentally, she was drained. Her head was actually pounding so fiercely her eyes ached. Maybe she could just lay her head on the arm of the couch while Emily played for a bit longer.
Adjusting her arm beneath her head, Cassie closed her eyes, hoping to chase away the dull throb.
After the flash of panic in seeing Cassie slumped over the arm of the couch and Emily holding herself up against the edge of the couch by her mama, Ian realized Cassie had merely fallen asleep.
“Hey, sweetie,” he said softly when Emily smiled up at him, flashing her two little baby teeth. “Your mama is pretty tired. Why don’t we let her sleep?”
Ian scooped Emily up, set her in her Pack ’n Play across the room and made sure she had her favorite stuffed horse.
He had to ignore her slight protesting as he crossed back and gently lifted Cassie into his arms. Murmuring something, she tilted her head against his chest and let out a deep sigh.
She was exhausted and apparently couldn’t even keep her eyes open.
It was so unlike her to fall asleep with Emily still up and not confined to one area.
A small bedside lamp sent a soft glow through her bedroom. After gently laying her down, he pulled the folded blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over her curled form. Smoothing her hair from her face, Ian frowned and leaned in closer to rest his palm across her forehead.
She wasn’t burning up, but she wasn’t far from it.
Careful not to wake her, he peeled the throw back off her to hopefully get her fever down.
Her cheeks were pink and the dark circles beneath her eyes were telltale signs of an illness settling in.
He had a feeling Cassie would only be angry to know she was getting sick.
He went into her adjoining bath, got a cool cloth and brought it back out, carefully laying it across her forehead. She stirred and her lids fluttered open as she tried to focus.
“Ian?”
“Shh.” He curled a hand over her shoulder to get her to remain down. “It’s all right. You need to rest.”
“Emily...” Cassie’s eyes closed for a moment before she looked back up at him. “I don’t feel very well.”
“I know, baby. I’m not going anywhere and Emily is fine. Just rest.”
He had no clue if she heard him; her eyes were closed and her soft, even breathing had resumed.
The woman worked herself too hard. Not that he could judge.
After all, he hadn’t grown to be one of Hollywood’s most sought-out agents at such a young age by playing assistant and errand boy.
No, he’d done grunt work, made his career his since he’d left home determined to prove to his free-spirited mother and domineering father that he could manage on his own and succeed way above anything they’d ever dreamed.
And he’d done just that.
But now that he looked down at Cassie resting peacefully, he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t more in store for him.
Work was satisfying on so many levels, but it didn’t keep his bed warm, didn’t look to him for support and compassion and sure as hell didn’t make his heart swell to the point of bursting.
Cassie and Emily, on the other hand...
After clicking off the bedside lamp, he went straight to the hall bath to wash his hands. If Cassie was contagious, he didn’t want to get her daughter sick. Granted, the child had been with her mother all evening, but still. Weren’t people supposed to wash their hands before dealing with kids?
Yeah, he had a lot to learn. As he lathered up and rinsed, he glanced across the open floor plan to Emily, who had long since forgotten she was angry with being confined. Ian dried his hands on a plaid towel and smiled. Definitely had a lot to learn about little people.
And suddenly it hit him that he actually wanted to do just that. Who knew that when he came out here to sway Lily into signing with his agency that he’d completely get sidetracked by a beauty who literally fell into his arms?
After getting a bottle ready—thank God he’d had those alone days with Cassie and Emily in California so he knew a bit more about Emily’s care—Ian set it on the end table and went to retrieve one happy baby.
“Are you always in a good mood?” he asked as he lifted her from the baby prison. “Your mama isn’t feeling good, so it’s just you and me.”
Emily patted his face and smiled. “Dadadada.”
Ian froze. Oh, no. No, no, no. As if a vise was being tightened around his chest, Ian’s breath left him.
“No, baby. Ian.”
Emily patted his cheek again. “Dadada.”
Okay, he had to put his own issues aside at the thought of someone calling him Daddy because this poor girl honestly didn’t know her daddy. She didn’t remember the man who was supposed to be here for her and her mother.
Ian held her closer, silently wanting to reassure her that she was not alone. But was he also silently telling himself that he’d be here beyond the rough night right now? Would he be here after the film wrapped up?
Since he was alone with his thoughts he might as well admit to himself that being with Cassie and Emily for the long term was something he wanted and, dare he say...ached for?
As he settled into the corner of the couch with Emily, he slid the bottle between her little puckered lips and smiled as those expressive blue eyes looked back up at him. Eyes like her mother’s. Both ladies had him wrapped around their fingers.
Emily drifted off to sleep about the time the bottle was empty.
He set it back on the table and shifted her gently up onto his shoulder.
If she spit up on his dress shirt, so be it.
He hadn’t taken the time to change after his dinner meeting with Lily.
She was pretty confident she’d be signing with his agency.
And the fact this was the first time he’d thought of that monumental career development since he’d come in and discovered Cassie ill should tell him exactly how quickly his priorities had changed where the Barrington females were concerned.
Once Emily had fallen asleep, he figured it was okay for him to rest on the couch with her.
He carefully got up and turned off the lights in the living room, leaving on only the small light over the stove in the kitchen.
Pulling the throw off the back of the sofa with one hand and holding Emily firmly with the other, Ian toed off his shoes and laid the little girl against the back of the sofa before he eased down onto his side beside her.
Not the most comfortable of positions, but he was so tired he could’ve slept standing up, and there was no way he’d leave Cassie alone with the baby tonight.
Resting with the baby on a couch was probably some sort of Parenting 101 no-no, but since he’d taken no crash courses in this gig, he was totally winging it.
The next thing he knew someone was ringing the doorbell. Ian jerked up, taking in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. It was Sunday and the crew was taking the day off. Was someone looking for him? The doorbell chimed again and Emily’s eyes popped open, too.
Ian picked her up and raked a hand over his hair as he padded to the door. The last thing he needed was for someone to ring that bell again and wake Cassie. Apparently they’d all slept uneventfully through the night.
As he flicked the lock, Ian glanced out the sidelight, frowning when he didn’t recognize the stranger on the porch.
Easing the door open slightly, Ian met the other man’s gaze. “Can I help you?”
The stranger’s eyes went from Emily back to Ian before the muscle in his jaw jumped. “Who the hell are you, and where is Cassie?”
Shocked at the immediate anger, Ian instantly felt defensive. “I should be asking you who you are, considering you’re on the outside.”
Narrowed eyes pierced Ian. “I’m Cassie’s husband. I’ll ask again. Who the hell are you?”
Husband. Ian didn’t miss the fact the prick left out the “ex” part.
“I’m her lover,” Ian said, mentally high-fiving himself for wiping that smug look off the man’s face.