Page 76 of Enemies in Paradise

When I turn around, Dad is holding takeout containers. “Zach brought me dinner from the Garden when he came into help. I’ve got sliced pork in plum sauce for Grace.” He hands her one bag. “And another pork and a chicken pot pie in here.”

Dad lifts the second bag.

“I’ll take the chicken pot pie to Cassie. She had it once and loved it.”

He raises a questioning eyebrow—which I choose to ignore—hands me the bag and takes the chili. “I’ll eat the chili. You enjoy dinner with Cassie.”

Grace’s face is full of disappointment until Dad asks her about Mom’s day.

I only stay long enough to hear that Mom slept a lot of the day and struggled to swallow her food.

I don’t stay for anymore. I can’t.

I carry the food to the back door, then tell Dad I’ll be back later as he and Grace walk to Mom’s room.

My brief interaction with Grace has put things back into perspective. I know I have to be careful not to send her themessage that I’m still interested in her. But I have to be careful about sending Cassie the wrong message, too.

I really like Cassie, but I already moved too fast kissing her before I ever asked her out. And now I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable—without her clothes. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m only interested in her physically. I’mdefinitelyinterested in kissing her again, but not just because she’s beautiful.

There’s so much more that makes her beautiful than the way she looks. If there’s any possibility of a relationship with Cassie, I want to get to knowherbetter.

I carry the bag of food to the door and knock softly. When there’s no answer, I poke my head inside. Water is running in the other room, so I walk all the way inside and call Cassie’s name.

The water stops, and Cassie’s voice floats from my bathroom. “Is that you, Bjorn?”

So, we’re back to Bjorn.

That’s disappointing.

“Yeah. I brought you some dinner. Both of us, actually. If you don’t mind my staying for a few minutes.” I reach for a plate when I hear the bathroom door open.

“I don’t mind,” Cassie says.

“It’s chicken pot pie from the Garden.” I keep talking to steady my nerves. I don’t want to risk spilling anything on Cassie again.

Then I turn and nearly drop the bag.

Only her face and one bare shoulder are visible in the small opening between the door and wall. She has a towel wrapped around her hair. One hand is pressed to her chest, holding something close.

It’s another towel.

Cassie is wearing a towel again.

And I’m close enough to watch a bead of water from the one wet lock of hair that’s come loose from her towel travel acrossher collarbone, down the middle of her chest, to the hand clutching the towel just below the line of her cleavage.

“You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble,” she says.

But my mind has gone blank, and I can’t remember what I’ve done. Ever. In my entire life. There’s only this moment right here.

“It smells delicious.” Cassie lets the door open a little more, and I get a better look at her very long legs.

“Yeah.” I lick my lips. “You do…”Oh no.“I mean…you do.” I shake my head. “I mean, the chicken. The chicken smells delicious.”

Cassie grins, and I swear she lets the door creep open another couple of inches on purpose. I don’t know what’s changed since I went to the house, but she’s definitely flirting. I’m not complaining, but my head is spinning. Is this some kind of sneak attack? Or is this what happens when you offer to do a woman’s laundry?

“Do you mind if I wear your jersey a little longer?” Cassie leans her head against the doorframe and sends me a soft smile. “At least, until my clothes are done?”

I swallow. Hard. “Yeah… of course. Wear it as long as you want… need. I’ve got others.”

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