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One day a week she allowed herself to indulge in caffeine. Granted, the cup was big enough to fit a puppy inside, but she refrained from refills. Mika settled in front of her laptop. The summer sun shone in her windows, laying a warm track across the wooden floorboards of the cottage. Crisp air curled through her screen door. Vickers had her tongue guns trained on her this week, but living here made it all worthwhile.
The laptop booted up. She needed to replace Cain’s and give his back. Maybe he’d go shopping with her and help buy a new one? A text from Dinky popped up on her phone.
Coming over. Squee. Only one week away.
Mika chuckled. Cyn, Kate, and Sarah had all been crazy as loons a week before their weddings, but Dinky was a psycho bride. She’d decided on a themed wedding, surprising everyone who thought it would be a mix of punk and Goth, but typical Dinky, she dropped every jaw when she announced it would be Victorian. She wanted all the men in tuxes and the ladies in lace.
A hunky torso appeared on Mika’s desktop. From the neck down to his sexy hips and torqued abs, the mystery man she’d sniped from Google images gave her something to dream about.
Cain craned his head in the door. “Morning. You wouldn’t happen to have coffee?”
“You smelled it from your house, didn’t you?”
He broke into a smile. “You always have coffee Saturday morning.”
“In fact I do, and you can save me the temptation of drinking the rest by finishing the pot.”
He strolled by, leaving a trail of sizzling magnetism wavering behind him. The man always smelled good. “Is that your aftershave or what?” she finally asked.
“Hmm,” he murmured tipping back the coffee cup, a stupid but puzzling grin on his lips.
“You stink good.”
He chuckled. “Thanks.” He leaned over her shoulder “What the hell is that on my computer?” he asked.
She crooked her brow and craned her head back. “What? You gave it to me.”
Cain’s brow creased looking at the hot dude on her laptop. “He ain’t that great.”
“You take your crazy pill already? He’s hot.”
Cain rubbed his jaw and gave her a cocky grin. “I should have left a selfie on that.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He settled in the chair across from her and slipped the newspaper from under his arm onto the table. “I wear Clive Christian No.1.”
“Never heard of it.” She Googled it and her mouth gaped open. “It’s twenty-three hundred dollars a bottle!” she screeched.
Cain’s brow barely creased. “You said you liked it.”
“Well, you’re not getting that from me for Christmas.”
“What do you wear?” he asked.
She signed on to Facebook to see if anyone from her group was online or had left messages.
“Eau de goat’s milk soap.”
He spit out a laugh and opened the first section of the Victoria Times. “Sexy,” he drawled.
“We’re not all rich snobs.”
With only a handful of groups dedicated to her disorder on Facebook, she’d chosen the smallest, with four thousand people.
“Scent is not what I’m talking about, and every woman has a bottle of perfume,” he said, flipping up the paper.
“Nope. Not everyone.”
Like many online groups, most folks just lurked. She’d joined the group during its early days and she’d come to know the men and women who were most active on the site.
She’d lived with her enemy since she was three, and had run the gauntlet of home remedies, creams, and pills for what she and twelve million other people struggled with. To the group, she had become a reliable resource. She’d literally done it all to keep the monster inside her quiet. She had ten personal messages and a string of posts where she’d been tagged.
“Would you wear something, if I bought it for you?” Cain asked, lifting his mug with a raised brow.
“Miss an old girlfriend or something? Buy a teddy bear and spray it.”
A deep rumble of a laugh erupted from his chest. “Still not what I’m talking about.”
She ignored him. Taking a sip of her coffee, she began to read and make comments. This group was closed because people bared their souls, including pictures. When it had first started, the two administrators had kept it open, but that didn’t last long because the heartless idiots of the world came storming in to make rude comments and nasty remarks.
“You don’t wear anything?” he asked.
She stopped typing and looked across the table, but he was hidden behind the paper. “I wear clothes. Haven’t you noticed?”
He dropped the paper and gazed at her. His lids shuttered then he stuck his tongue in his cheek as if stifling a laugh. “Yes, I notice everything.”
“I bet you do.”
He flipped the paper up. “Uh-huh.”
Cradling her coffee, she read the second PM from her friend Karen, who lived in New York, instead of being concerned with her landlord-clothes horse.
I’m really struggling these days, Mika. Not only am I fighting a flare, but Gavin can’t deal with it. He won’t come near me. He makes horrible comments like, “You’re not trying hard enough. Why can’t you make this go away?” The worst one was last night. “We’re not having sex until you get that under control. It sickens me.”
Mika put her cup down with a deep sigh of regret. Karen wasn’t the only woman who had an unsupportive husband. When they’d married, her enemy had been under control, but she’d gone back to work after having two children, and the stresses of her corporate position had pushed her autoimmune system into chaos. Her dermatologist had put her on Methotrexate which helped, but didn’t render a complete remission. Nothing could cure what they had.
Mika typed a response to Karen and moved on to the other messages. She heard a car and saw Dinky driving up the road.
“By the way,” Cain said and slowly dropped the paper, grinning at her.
“What?” she drawled, waiting for another lesson on how to smell. He looked as if he’d found out some dirty little secret he was going to hang over her head.
He leaned over the table with a sublime smile. “If you wore that incredibly sexy see-through negligee you have on all the time, you’d have guys lining up outside your front door.”
Her guts rolled over in terror. She dropped her gaze. She’d totally forgotten she had on her nightie. Her see everything nightie. She screeched and ran from the table.
“Holy fuck,” she blurted, diving into her bedroom and slamming the door. How in God’s name could she have ever look Cain in the eyes again?
“Morning, Cain.” Dinky chirped her greeting.
Cain was still laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
Mika threw on a pair of jeans and overly big sweater, and stomped back down the hall.
“You could have said something earlier,” she stormed at him.
Cain sat back in the chair, looking all friggin’ relaxed and sex-on-a-stick handsome. He raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not complaining.”
Dinky’s head swung back and forth. “Should I leave?”
“No,” she sputtered. “But Cain is!”
“Before you go, here.” Dinky gave him an envelope.
“What’s this?” He opened it and grinned. “I’ll be there. Thanks, Dinky.”
Dinky dropped the big book she carried on the table.
“You’ve changed your mind about something—again, haven’t you?”
Mika’s bestie brushed past her into the kitchen. “Yes.” She poured herself a cup of brew and said to Cain, “You need a tux, Victorian style. Most of the guys are using Tuxes Galore.”
“Think I can manage something.”
Dinky got that look on her face and Mika knew there was more coming. “Mika, you’ve always gone solo to all the weddings and we just kind of thought....”
Mika slammed her eyes shut. “You didn’t, Dinky.”
“What,” she said, accompanied with a perky smile.
“You asked Cain to be my date?” She groaned. “Seriously?”
“Mika, it’s not that bad. I mean, why not?”
Cain leaned forward, one perfect eyebrow arched. “Yeah, why not?”
She sputtered. “Oh, I don’t know. How about people will think we’re a couple, and the poor guy will be stuck with me all night.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.” Dinky cranked a look at Cain. “You don’t see it that way, do you?”
Cain rose with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Not at all. And don’t forget clothes aren’t optional, Mika.”
She grabbed the first thing she could find, which happened to be a magazine. Cain put it into high gear and shot out the front door just as the mag slammed against the doorjamb.
Dinky cocked her head like an ostrich. “Um, ya sure I shouldn’t come back later?”
“Not unless you bring back lye, duct tape and garbage bags, so I can bury my landlord,” she yelled at the door.
“Lovers spat?” she asked.
“He’s not my lover,” Mika growled. “I’m going to end up solo again anyway. Every single woman there is going to be lusting over him, especially Jen.”
“Jen has a date.”
Mika rubbed her neck and let out a frustrated grumble. “Cain looks like a Greek god when he wears a pair of torn jeans. Imagine what he’ll look like in a tux? I hate you sometimes.”
Dinky offered her pearly smile. “No, you don’t. You love me.” She tapped her chin. “I’m guessing he could make 007 look like a swamp beast.”
Mika shook her head. “Don’t play matchmaker. Cain is most definitely out of my league.”
Dinky rolled her eyes, and they settled at the kitchen table over the book of flower arrangements. “Your flowers are gorgeous. Why are you changing them?”
She waved her hand in the air. “There’s too much pink. I’m thinking yellow for summer.”
“You’re driving my mom crazy, so make up your mind.”
They hovered over the thirty options and pared them down to five before they took a break. Dinky sucked back her water, which she never went anywhere without. A month ago she decided she could lose ten pounds. This from a natural born string bean. Mika had teased her, asking if they had negative sizes in dresses. Which her best friend responded, “No, I’m gonna be a perfect zero.”
Dinky patted her hand. “Let’s go out for lunch and then drop by the dress shop.”
“You’ve been there so often, they know what you’re going to name your first child.”
“It’s for your fitting. Now come on, let’s get going.”
****
Wednesday afternoon the limousine picked up all the girls for Dinky’s bachelorette party. Mika had rented the limo for the night, and they’d crawled through the clubs. Yes, literally crawled after club number four.
Thursday morning at five a.m. she’d staggered to bed, and stayed there. Breeze kept her company in her miserable state, and she’d begged off running with Cain.
She found nothing funny about standing at her front door in her bunny PJ’s at two in the afternoon and her hair standing up on end, but Cain did.
He took one look at her and said, “Wow, you’re in agony, aren’t you?”
She squinted even with three Advils and a miracle shake meant to eradicate the screaming harpies from her head.
“Guess you’re not running today,” he said smirking.
“Guess not.” And she slammed the door shut in his face. A tap made her open it again. “What? Can’t you leave a woman to die in peace?”
With one hand propped against the jam, he grinned at her. “Just wondering what time we’re leaving on Saturday.”
She dragged her fingers down her face and tried to make her brain function. “Butchart Gardens, the wedding starts at two. Dinky rented rooms at the Empress. We’ve got hair appointments at eleven then back to the hotel to get dressed, blah, blah, blah.”
Cain chuckled and her stomach tightened. It did that every time the man smiled, never mind making her toes curl and her legs quiver. He was just too darn handsome for his own good.
“I’ll drive you to the Empress in the morning. How’s that?”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure.”
He nodded once and backed away, giving her that look he had with his head a little tilted and a sexy, inquisitive stare from beneath the slashes of his dark brows.
“’Kay.” He huffed out a laugh. “You really need some TLC.”
“Oh, shut up.” She didn’t have a good one-liner to fire back at him.
Cain had been out of town on business for most of the week. She thought it was kinda cute that he’d called each night to check on her. They didn’t talk long. Just a quick convo to connect. Mika considered herself lucky to have a good friend like him.
“I’ll be back later with some dinner. Go to bed.”
“Intend to.” After shutting the door in his face, she walked straight to her bedroom and stuffed her head under the pillow.
Good to his word, Cain came back at five with dinner and some awful-looking yellow concoction.
“Seriously, it’ll help,” he said and nudged her hand to drink.
She downed it and gagged. “Oh my God, what is that?”
“Buffalo piss, but it works wonders.”
Her eyes flashed wide open. “Whaaat?”
He doubled over laughing, putting his hand in the air. He tried to talk, but couldn’t stop laughing. “You should see your face.”
“Yours is gonna be in a coffin if I just drank buffalo urine,” she barked.
He grabbed his stomach and fell onto the couch laughing. Shaking his head, he couldn’t control himself. She stood over him with her hands on her hips, ready to make her threat a reality.
“What the hell was that?”
He yanked her down on the couch beside him, stretched his long legs and set his heels on the coffee table then grabbed the remote.
“Feeling better?” He broke out laughing again.
She actually was...but. “Tell me.” She slugged him in the shoulder.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We going to watch your stupid show?”
“Which one?”
“Exactly.” He clicked the TV on. “You should read more.”
“I do read.” She tucked her feet under her butt, and leaned against his sturdy shoulder, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
They watched The Bachelor and Cain groaned halfway through. “Why do you watch this crap? None of it’s real.”
She sighed. “It’s kind of romantic.”
He looked down at her, and she looked up. They were almost nose to nose. “Why do women search for a fantasy instead of looking for the real thing? I mean, why sit here and watch this instead of going out and finding a real guy?”
“Because there’s no good ones left,” she said, turning to stare at the television.
“Jeff, Tad, Sam and Mac are decent guys.”
“They are,” she agreed.
He paused then said, “How come you haven’t brought anyone home? You never go out.”
“I like my little cottage. I’ve got my friends.” She turned up the sound, and he got the hint. It wasn’t long before she’d nodded off.
Mika woke up cradled in Cain’s arms, the room dark, and the TV off. Instead of interrupting his sleep, she eased herself from the couch, pulled the blanket over him, and went to bed.
****
Saturday morning, Mika stepped outside to drink her herbal tea on the patio. The breeze off the ocean had a nip, but the sky was clear. A beautiful day for Dinky’s wedding.
Four hours later, Mika rearranged her bestie’s train and gave her a kiss. They’d gotten all their crying done before the cosmetician had applied the makeup. Dinky didn’t want the traditional wedding song. She’d found a beautiful Gaelic tune to honor her Irish roots.
The rest of the girls had already walked down the aisle.
She’d been in Cyn, Kate, Sarah, and now Dinky’s wedding party. Her dress was very different from the other girls. They all had dresses that came to just above their knees and halter tops covered in lace and beads. They were dazzling. Mika had to cover more of her skin, so she wore a floor-length mermaid dress in shimmering gold. The dress fit snuggly with full-length sleeves and a very revealing off-the-shoulder bodice. The dress clung like a layer of Saran wrap around her hips.
As the maid of honor, she was up next. Dinky had chosen yellow and white flowers, which had been wrapped around the lamp posts.
She rounded a sculpted hedge with the perfect, practiced walk of a bridesmaid but never a bride. A red carpet covered the gravel path. She caught the smiles of family and friends as she walked past the early summer flowers of Butchart Gardens.
Mika kept her shoulders straight and her chin up. She smiled at her mom, who sat with their friend’s parents. Mom blew her a kiss and she winked back. By chance, standing on the aisle across from Mom, was Cain.
Her breath rushed from her lungs, and she almost tripped. She’d been wrong. 007 didn’t hold a candle to her landlord. Cain was outstandingly handsome wearing his period tux. With his gaze focused on her, she felt incredibly self-conscious.
His mouth curved into a fetching smile, causing her pulse to thump madly. She joined the wedding party, then watched her best friend walk up the aisle. Instead of following the bride, Cain turned and stared up at Mika. Her mom saw him doing it, and the little hat she wore tipped as she panned a look at her and back at Cain.
When the ceremony was over, guests wandered through the gardens as the photographers snapped pictures. Jeff’s brother, Jordon, was his best man. As soon as Dinky and Jeff disappeared to sign the paperwork, Jordon’s wife appeared. Once again, Mika was solo and stared across the sea of smiling faces.
“Mesmerizing.” She heard a voice behind her.
She turned and grinned at Cain. He hadn’t seen her in the dress because the wedding party accompanied Dinky in the limo before the ceremony.
“More beautiful than a sunset,” he said.
His gaze made her stomach flip. “Thank you. Better than jogging pants.” Something in his stare unnerved her, or maybe it was just the fact that he was staring. Intently. “We have a half hour before group photos.”
“Mika?”
“Mom.” They hugged each other, but her mother’s attention was set on Cain. “This is my landlord, Cain Sallas.”
Mothers and daughters often had a slight resemblance, but some, like she and her mom, were mirror images of each other.
“Nice to meet you, Cain.”
“Mrs. Makris, it’s my honor.” He accepted her hand as if she were royalty.
Her mother smiled with approval. “Is that a Greek accent I hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. I was born there.”
“My husband, Mika’s father, was Greek. He was born on the Island of Rhodes.”
“We have a business there, and several of my relatives live there as well.”
“We traveled to Greece when Mika was a baby.”
“I just remember Disneyland,” Mika said.
“You were only six months old. We wanted to show you off to your grandparents. They were overjoyed to have a granddaughter.” Her mom paused. “Sallas.” She nodded. “Did you know there is a Sallas Winery? Old vine is very popular.”
He nodded. “That’s right. It’s one of my family’s most popular lines. It’s quite well known.”
She smiled brightly at Mika. “Your father loved that wine.”
Mika didn’t know that and shrugged.
“My daughter doesn’t drink very much because of her condition.”
“Mom,” she warned, and gave her a covert look to be quiet.
Her mom rubbed her temple. “Not sure how long I’m going to stay, sweetheart.”
“Haven’t you gone to the doctor’s yet?” Her mom was a busy woman, but they talked almost every day.
“This time of year is extremely busy. I haven’t had a chance. Not to mention Dinky changing her mind a hundred times,” she joked.
“Mom owns a flower shop in Victoria. The Creative Stem,” Mika explained.
Cain watched her mother with concern. “You’re not feeling well?”
“I just have headaches sometimes. More than I probably should. Don’t worry, Mika. I promise, I’ll see the doctor soon.”
“As in next week, Mom.”
She nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Cain.”
He took her hand and held it, giving her one of his warm smiles. The one that made a lady’s pantyhose melt. “I hope we see each other again.”
“I hope so, too. Excuse me, I have to say hello to some friends.”
Cain watched her mother wander down the path toward a group of their friends’ parents. “You look just like your mom.”
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says. People think she’s my older sister, not my mom. My parents had me quite young. She’s forty-eight.”
“And your dad? He isn’t here?”
She glanced away. “No, he passed away five years ago. It was a heart attack.”
“So young.”
She sighed and clenched her hands together. “Mom’s never been interested in another man. We tried to set her up on blind dates a couple times.” She chuckled. “She finally told us all to lay off. She still loves Dad, even if he isn’t around. She says she feels his presence looking out for her.”
“May I?” A man said, stepping up to them. A leather bag was hooked over his shoulder and he held an expensive looking camera. Dinky had hired a team of photographers. “Would you and your escort mind standing over here,” he asked, pointing toward an enormous azalea bush with bright red blooms.
Cain’s brow creased. “I’m not her escort,” he said harshly.
“Uh.” Her heart sank and she flushed with embarrassment. “He’s a friend of Dinky, I mean, Dina and Jeff.”
Cain’s deep blue eyes darkened even more. “I’m her date, not her escort.”
Mika stilled, not understanding what the difference was or why Cain seemed angry.
“You’re a beautiful couple,” the photographer said. “Would you mind if I followed you and took some pictures?”
She put her back to the photographer. “You don’t have to do this, Cain.”
He cleared his throat and glared at the ground. “Sorry. I’m not fond of that term.” Cain’s masculine features creased as if perplexed for a moment, then he leaned in, putting his mouth next to her ear, causing goose bumps to coat her flesh. The photographer was already snapping photos. “Would you accompany me through the gardens, Miss Makris?”
She smiled, their cheeks touching. Years from now, she could stare at the pictures, filling her head with silly dreams.
“My pleasure, Mr. Sallas.”
“You really are stunning, Mika.”
He offered his arm and they walked through the gardens, stopping when the photographer asked them to pose. Thirty minutes later, they found their way back to the Sunken Garden. Cain waited while the photographers ordered the wedding party into their groups for the photos.
When they’d finished, Cain joined her again and placed his fingers on her cheeks and massaged them. She chuckled. “I think they’re permanently frozen there.”
“Shall we?” he asked, offering her an arm once again.
For some strange reason, Cain had the ability to make her feel like someone truly special. They walked toward the exit with the rest of the entourage.
“Now, we get to relax,” she said. “And eat. I’m starving.”
Cain opened the passenger’s door of the Jag. Once she’d buckled in, he squatted beside her.
“I’ve been to a lot of weddings, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful maid of honor. You outshine the bride.”
She raised a brow at him. “Did I miss an open bar?”
Cain held his phone up. His wallpaper held a picture of her, standing in front of a blooming magnolia tree. Her head slightly turned and her expression distant.
“In Greek legend, Helen was the most beautiful woman ever known, and the indirect cause of the Trojan War. I’ve seen many paintings of her, but none surpass this image on my phone.”
Her mouth gaped a little, and Cain gently lifted her chin with a finger.
“See you guys at the Empress,” Jen called out, clinging to her date.
She waved. “Right behind you.” Cain stared at her, and it made her incredibly uncomfortable. “If I’m Helen of Troy, then you’re most definitely Adonis. All the single women have been drooling all over themselves since you arrived. Your dance card is already full, and we haven’t even gotten there yet.”
Cain’s gaze swept across her face. “There’s only one name on that card this evening. I’m ready to dance with you all night.”
“Hope you wore steel-toed shoes.”
He whisked a stray curl from her cheek. “Your feet will never touch the floor when you’re in my arms.”
Her mouth gaped again, but this time Cain backed away and closed the door, a sizzling, mischievous grin on his lips.
****
The Empress Hotel served an exquisite dinner. Laughter and tears were shared as the speeches followed. Mika made it through hers without crying, but Dinky and Jeff swept their cheeks when they played the video she’d made for them. It had taken her a couple months to decide on what pictures to use. She’d hired someone to put it all together with their favorite song.
Love swept through the luxurious banquet hall and joined every guest in celebration of their marriage. Luckily, Dinky wasn’t big on too much pomp and ceremony.
After the bride and groom had their dance, the guests all joined in. Cain had been seated with her friends’ husbands during the meal. When the guests began to mingle, he rounded the head table and escorted her onto the dance floor.
He carried a masculine strength and elegance that no other man in the room possessed. His eyes never veered from hers, making her feel anxious. Cain’s large palm pressed against the arch of her back and drew her closer for the slow dance. Mika truly didn’t want to embarrass herself and step on his toes. But he led her with ease, all she had to do was follow.
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt like he was professionally trained to be the perfect gentlemen. He came from a wealthy family, maybe he’d been taught the finer nuances of society.
The conversation of the crowd, the eyes watching them, everything disappeared as Cain created a bubble around her. He held her snugly as they danced to a romantic melody. When the song ended, she glanced at her friends who were close by, and they were all staring at her. She hated being the focal point in any group and blushed.
Cain’s reserved smile creased his firm lips. “I feel honored to be here tonight, but especially in your company.”
Oh, my God. Her cheeks heated. Because of the occasion, her alcohol abstinence was on hold for the evening. After that comment, she needed a couple ounces to calm her nerves. Cain didn’t step back, instead he held her close, as if they still danced. The warmth of his palm on her back seeped through her dress, causing her blood to tingle.
As usual, when she felt uncomfortable, she quickly resorted to a joke. “Think I should be paying you this evening.”
A storm cloud shifted across his expression, wiping out the smile and he immediately released her. “I’m going to the bar,” he stated coldly. “Want anything?”
The magic instantly broken, unease slithered up her spine. She chased him and gripped his arm halfway to the bar. “Cain. I’m sorry. It was a joke.”
He rounded on his heel, his attractive jaw clenched. “I know that.”
“Then why are you angry?”
He exhaled and closed his eyes for a second. “I’m not.”
Although it was probably totally wrong, she forked her fingers with his. “All I meant was that you look so handsome tonight.” She snorted. “Who am I kidding?” She shrugged. “You always look handsome.”
He gazed at her as if trying to work something out, then his brow creased with chagrin. “I...” Cain scratched his forehead. “Let’s get a drink.”
They walked toward the bar, joining their friends who had the same idea. She expected Cain to release her hand, but he didn’t, and that made her smile.
****
They arrived home around one a.m. Mika clutched the bouquet she’d caught in her hands, along with all the little wedding gifts Dinky had plied on her. Her feet were sore, and she thought she might just slip into a bath before bed.
Cain had been very quiet on the drive. “Thank you for being my escort,” she said. They stood in front of the garage as the door lowered. Alcohol always made her a little braver, and she winked at him.
His tie was undone and his jacket draped over his arm. Her smile evaporated when he looked at her so seriously. “I really don’t like that term, Mika.”
“Why? I mean aside from accompanying someone, I don’t see anything wrong with the profession.” Slipping off her spike heels, because she couldn’t stand them pinching her feet, she wiggled her toes to bring the feeling back. “I’ve even thought about hiring one someday for myself.”
He took an angry step toward her, and her pulse quickened.
“Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that.”
Shocked at his vehement response. “Why? Twenty-first century, ya know. From what I’ve read, they’re very popular with executive types and women who are too busy to hang out and wait for some man to take notice. They’re educated and always polite.” She shifted the load in her arms. “I saw an article that said they’ll accompany someone to an event or a party, and that it’s not all about sex. In fact, that part is a separate contract, agreed on by both parties in a very mature way. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
Cain’s chest expanded with a deep breath. “Why would you do that? Jen said you haven’t gone on a date in years. You get asked, but you don’t accept.”
She shrugged. “I’ve got my reasons.”
“What are they?” he shot back.
Her friend was getting too nosy. Cain’s jaw ground into a tight line. Instead of answering, she decided to head toward the safety of her cottage to avoid more questions.
“Mika,” he said sharply.
“I’m tired, Cain. Good night.”
“I want you to talk to me first before you ever consider doing something like that.”
She laughed and tossed over her shoulder, “Why, you gonna give me a cut rate?”
“What?”
Within a second, he was beside her and dug his fingers into her arm then swung her around.
“I’m kidding. What is the matter with you?”
Cain blinked and swallowed deeply. “Nothing—good night.” He turned and strode toward his house of glass.
Strange. She walked down the gravel path, the cool sea air refreshing on her skin.
“Hey!” he called out. “I hope you save me a dance at your wedding.” His deep timbre cut through the darkness.
She thought of twenty self-deprecating comments. Everything from “if miracles happen, sure” to “no one marries monsters,” but instead she smiled to herself. “Night, Cain.”
