Strange Bedfellows by Kasey Michaels

Author:Kasey Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-01-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Melissa Etheridge was belting out another chorus of “Bring Me Some Water,” and Cassandra danced around the kitchen, caught up in the pulsing beat of the music. Jason had cranked the stereo to the “ouch” level, and the bass was thumping in her chest, the drumbeat in the background causing her to bob her head with the rhythm, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, the music singing in her blood.

She picked up the long-handled, plastic pot scrubber and used it like a microphone, growling the words into it as she shook her head, shook her shoulders, allowed herself to be moved by the beat, set free by the beat. She swung around in a circle, the pot scrubber turning into a guitar as she “air-played” the riff, felt her unbound hair slap against her cheeks.

She pushed in Jason’s chair with a flip of her hip, picking up the empty soda can and winging it into the recycling container before pulling the pot scrubber to her mouth, and complaining that she was “burning alive!”

The singer broke into the hard, thumping refrain once more, and Cassandra shifted into high gear—her hips swaying, her feet slip-sliding along the smooth tile as she opened the refrigerator, pulled out another can of soda, made her way to the office door, pulled it open and danced her way inside.

Jason looked over his shoulder, saw her and grinned as he came to his feet. He immediately turned up the stereo another notch, took the soda away from her, then leaned in close as the song blared to its heart-thumping crescendo—at which time, their knees bent, their heads pressed together, they sang the last line together.

Jason put his arm around Cassandra, to keep her from tumbling to the floor, and the two of them laughed at each other as the rock star began singing another song.

And then he looked toward the kitchen, and his expression turned hard. His eyes went flat and dull, and his lip curled. “What’s he doing here?” he asked, wheeling away from Cassandra, who had been laughing and trying to catch her breath.

“Curses. Foiled again,” Cassandra muttered even as she stood up straight, pushed the hair out of her eyes and turned to look at Sean Frame.

She was more than a little aware of her closely fitting striped knit top and her cutoff jeans—hadn’t she been on her way upstairs to change? She had a vague memory of thinking it was time to head for the stairs, right before Jason had put on the Etheridge CD. She crossed her hands over her waist and said as cheerily as she could, “Oh, didn’t I tell you your dad was coming to dinner? Gee. I must have forgotten.”

“You also forgot to lock your front door,” Sean pointed out as he walked into the office, which suddenly seemed much too small to hold the three of them. “I put the box of food on the kitchen table, then followed the noise. You two planning to take that act on the road?”

Jason sniffed.

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