Page 81 of Rumor Has It

Except, I’ve lain awake weighing my considerations. I’ve given everything to two family businesses to prove my value, and because of that, I rarely find anyone worth dating who will put up with my insane work schedule.

So, when an attractive man, who is interested in me, appears in my kitchen, why am I supposed to discount him? Because I’m not good enough for Isaiah Roomer? Because I’m stupid and he’s only out for one thing?

I hate to break it to my sister, but since Isaiah returned I’ve gone to bed alone at night. He hasn’t stuck around the ranch for sex or put the screws to me me for intimacy at all. In all honesty, Isaiah has expressed concern that I didn’t feel like he was coercing me into doing anything I didn’t want. But the idea of staying behind only explodes the lid on my pressure cooker. I need to let off steam. I need to go as much for me as to remain with Isaiah and Aria.

“Thisisone of Aunt Brier’s book club romances and, no matter how long it lasts, my heart is mine to decide who I let break it. Also,” I add on my way out, “I liked your advice better when you were the woman who took chances.”

The next week passes in a blur. Vespa alternates between keeping me out of “Isaiah’s business” and filling my inbox with schedules and bizarre requests for meals Isaiah would never eat. I’ve cooked for him for months and have his food preferences down pat. Whenever I think I have a handle on what my role is on tour, she adds more to my plate. We almost come to blows until Isaiah reminds Vespa that me posing as Aria’s mother was her brilliant idea, so sabotaging it isn’t in his assistant’s best interest.

About the time it feels like the whirlwind is settling, I’m on the tarmac waving goodbye to my parents, Rhiannon, and my niece. Emeran insisted she needed to see me off. My entire family believes my reason for leaving is simply me following my heart and that my feelings for Isaiah and Aria run deep. But the shades of truth knot my insides tighter than the seatbelt buckle at my waist.

At twenty-thousand feet, Aria is screeching and rubbing her ears. Unable to soothe her, I wonder how fast the ruse will end. I’m panicky and might have made a huge mistake.

“Don’t be upset. She cried like this the entire flight when Isaiah brought her to meet you,” Monty recalls. “The upside was she was out like a light once we touched down.”

He has on the same exact outfit as he did on New Year’s Day. Khaki pants and a black shirt are Monty’s go-to ensemble. Steve dresses the same. I thought it was odd until I stopped noticing they were there. The bodyguards blend into the background.

The chartered plane touches down a thousand miles from home. I was told the destination was where we’d meet the tour bus for the first night of the tour. I gather my purse, the diaper bag, and a much happier Aria, and step off the plane. A shiny black motor coach is there waiting for us.

“You look surprised.” An excited Isaiah tugs me toward the bus.

“It’s monstrous.” It really is longer and taller than what I anticipated.

“That’s what she said,” he replies cockily.

My feet still, and my eyes widen. I drop Isaiah’s hand, thinking better of it than when we disembarked. “Shh… They’ll hear you! What if they think we’re, you know… Involved.”

As ridiculous as it sounds, his wife hasn’t been dead a year. I don’t want anyone thinking less of Isaiah for moving on too soon.

Isaiah puts the toes of his shoes to mine. He dips his head, whispering against my cheek. “Chou, we’ve discussed this. We are involved and people will talk no matter how discreet we act. I’m only hiding one truth, and it’s not from you.”

“I love you,” I mouth.

Isaiah’s lip twitches. He winks and nods. I have faith he feels the same and I don’t need him to say it back. He’s said he loves me a thousand times. He’s shown me he appreciates me a million more.

He steps to the side, placing his hand at the small of my back, guiding me toward a man in a flannel shirt and jeans who stands outside of the bus. His hair is the same color as Isaiah’s but without the messy sex-appeal and his face is angular, though not unfriendly.

“Cassidy, this is Dillon. Dillon was Kylie’s driver and we’re glad to have him along.”

“Much obliged to ya, Isaiah.”

“I wouldn’t leave you hanging, man.”

“I turned down other offers.” Dillon gnaws a piece of gum.

“That’s what I heard. Well, I’ll intend on making it worth your while. Miss Cavanaugh here is an amazing cook, and I know for a fact she makes extra bacon at breakfast time.” Isaiah gives me a jovial yet weirdly professional side hug.

“Welcome aboard, ma’am. And to you too, little sweetheart. Do you have a name?”

“Aria,” Isaiah responds proudly, showing her affection.

Dillon shakes Aria’s hand. Her little legs and arms jostle with excitement. Drool from the fist she’s been chewing on smacks me in the jaw. We share a laugh at my expense.

“Your little girl is beautiful, Miss Cavanaugh… And I do like a good BLT sandwich,” Dillon says to me as an aside.

“Wonderful! Just let me know when you’re hungry. And please call me Cassidy,” I reply, trying to make a friend of Dillon before Vespa returns.

Chapter Thirty-two

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