His Comfort and Joy

Could the situation with him get any worse? she wondered. Her fantasies had been bad enough, but now she actually knew what his body felt like.

Okay, so it had only been for a second, but the impression was indelible.

And the idea he was going home to put that hard length of his to good use was a total nightmare.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Her date with Tom tomorrow night was a godsend. It really was. Honestly. She needed to try to connect with someone she could actually—

The toe of her shoe caught a tree root and she pitched forward. Dropping the bike and pin-wheeling her arms, she managed to recover her balance before she face-planted into a pachysandra bed. But absurdly, tears pricked her eyes.

She wanted to curse.

Except she didn’t know why meeting Gray’s lover should bother her so much. The man was completely out of her league and she knew it. He was sophisticated and urbane and…she was a virgin, for heaven’s sake.

Joy put her hands over her face, wincing at her own inexperience. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had boyfriends. There had been a few, back in high school. But when college had rolled around, she’d had to work to help pay her way. The guys she’d met then were into partying and having fun. Between her course load and her two jobs, she’d been exhausted most of the time and not exactly the poster girl for a happy-go-lucky relationship. And as soon as she’d graduated, she’d come home to take care of Grand-Em. Saranac Lake was a small community so there weren’t a lot of eligible guys her own age to date. Besides, taking care of Grand-Em was an around-the-clock kind of job.

So how was she supposed to have found a man she really wanted to be with?

God, she was a fossil. At the age of twenty-seven, she was a total fossil.

Joy dropped her hands and glanced up at the sky. The stars overhead were blurry.

She should have known right off the bat that the night was going to end badly.

Getting hit with a tortellini air raid the minute she’d walked into the man’s house could not be, had not been, a harbinger of good things.

As she forced herself to pick up the bike and start walking, she thought at least one prediction of hers had come true. She wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

So she might as well get back to work on her sister’s wedding gown.

Chapter Four

The next morning, Joy threw down her pin cushion as Frankie tore out of the bedroom. In the wedding gown.

“Frankie! Wait, you can’t—”

“I have to catch Stu before he leaves! His phone is out.”

Joy leaped to her feet and ran after her sister, figuring at least she could grab the skirting and keep it off the ground. Assuming she could catch up. When she finally got within range, Frankie was flying out the kitchen door. Together, they hightailed it for Stu’s produce truck.

Wiry, ancient Stu was about to get in the cab, John Deere cap pulled down low, coveralls hanging off him like a sack. The old man was a typical Adirondack woodsman. Which meant if he was surprised to see Frankie coming at him in a wedding gown, you’d never know it.

“Nate and Spike need a special delivery of arugula,” Frankie said breathlessly. “Is there any way—”

“Yup.”

“By Tuesday?”

“Yup.”

“Stu, you are a magician! Thank you.”

There was a pause. “Yup.”

Stu doffed his cap and climbed up into the truck. Just as he was about to take off, a car came down the driveway.

It was a big BMW. Gray’s.

Joy nearly dropped the dress, at least until the lovely redhead got out. Then she began squeezing the fabric in her fists. She dropped the skirting before she got it sweat stained.

Frankie lifted a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” Cassandra smiled in a small, tight way, as if she were uncomfortable. But then her eyes narrowed on the gown. “Good Lord, that’s marvelous.”

Frankie did a twirl. The white satin skirt billowed out as if the fabric knew it was time to show off. “Isn’t it?”

“Who’s it by? Narciso Rodriguez? No, Michael Kors.”

“Her.” Frankie pointed at Joy.

Cassandra’s eyes widened. “You did this?”

Joy nodded.

The redhead walked around Frankie, inspecting seams and folds. “You designed and made it yourself?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“You’re very good. Do you have any others?”

“Gowns? No. Designs? Tons of them. I could wallpaper the house with what I’ve sketched.”

“You’re quite good.” Cassandra smiled more widely, but the expression faded as she looked at Frankie. “I probably should have called first. I, uh, I was hoping Alex would see me.”

Frankie nodded. “Come on in. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

As they walked over to the kitchen door, Cassandra smiled at Joy. “And maybe afterward, you could show me some more of your work?”

Joy shrugged as they went inside, figuring the woman was just being polite. “I was refining a few sketches this morning during breakfast. They’re over here on the table.”

Cassandra went right to them and her focus was so intense, it was intimidating.

Joy sank down in a chair, wishing she hadn’t been so quick to offer up her work. No one but her family had ever seen her designs. And here was a woman dressed in an Escada jacket and slacks pouring over an amateur’s pathetic scratchings. Joy wanted to grab the drawings. Hide them. Protect them.

Cassandra went through the loose pile, sliding the thick sheets one on top of another. Joy wanted to point out errors, mistakes, places where she thought she could do better. But she couldn’t find her voice.

Besides, no doubt Cassandra would find the faults herself.