Page 25 of Dust Storm

“Cassandra,” she corrected as she massaged her temples.

“Can we see your wedding dress?” Bree begged with clasped hands and puppy eyes.

“I don’t have a wedding dress,” Cassandra said.

The girls froze, but not for long.

“Why don’t you have a wedding dress?” Gracie asked with shock and horror.

Cassandra hadn’t opened her eyes yet. “I will tell you if you promise to stay at least two feet away from me at all times.”

“Hey—” I said in a warning tone.

She plastered on a smile. “I like my personal bubble.”

The girls backed up.

“Better,” Cassandra said as she lowered her hands.

Sadie’s furry ass was still planted on the floor beside her high heel.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow and glowered at the dog. “You too, fur ball.”

To my surprise, Sadie wandered back to the couch.

Cass laced her fingers together and turned her attention back to the girls. “I don’t have a wedding dress yet because I don’t have a wedding date yet. Why would I wear a summer dress for a winter wedding or lace and sleeves in the middle of July?”

“Why don’t you have a wedding date yet?” Bree prodded.

“My, my, aren’t you inquisitive?” Cassandra retorted. She bent down, bracing her hands on her knees to get on their level. “I don’t have a wedding date because I’m busy building my empire, not adding clout to his last name. Be your own happily ever after and you don’t need a prince to save you.”

“You’re so cool,” Bree whispered in sheer reverence.

Now I was the one rubbing my temples.

6

CASSANDRA

“Girls. Bed,” Christian growled. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

“But,Dad,” Gracie whined.

God, that sound made me want to stuff my head into a paper shredder.

The space behind my eyes throbbed as a migraine made its debut.

Christian cut her a look so severe that it startled even me. But his voice was gentle and steady. “No arguing.”

Bree huffed. “But we?—”

She clammed up with a raise of her dad’s eyebrow.

“I’ll come up and turn off the lights in a minute. Go on.”

The Bobbsey Twins turned and loped up the stairs without another word.

Christian had dropped his hat on the hook by the door when he walked in, leaving his disheveled bun uncovered. I didn’t move, opting to stand and watch as he dug his hands into his thick hair.

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