Embezzled Love by Ginger Simpson Page A

stood, brushed the dirt from his hands, and put his arm around her. "Close your eyes and visualize. You're lookin' out the back door. In the middle of your beautiful lawn, you see a gorgeous, serene, pond where blue bubbles cascade into a waterfall that spills over lots of water lilies. Just beyond, an arched bridge crosses from one side to the other over more greenery and colorful Koi. Now doesn't that sound appealing?"
    She opened her eyes. "Well, when you describe it like that, yes, it does, but…"
    "I know, when you see what things look like now, it's hard to imagine what I described. Just leave everything to me, baby girl. I'll make this pig's ear into a silk purse in no time."
    She released a loud breath. "I guess I have no choice, because what I'm looking at right now doesn't resemble anything you described. I'll decide how good you are when I see the finished project." She turned and opened the door. "Are you coming in?"
    "Pretty soon. There's still some daylight left and I don't wanna waste it."
    Cassie went inside. An unusually large stack of mail sat on the kitchen counter. She dropped her purse next to the couch and sorted through the envelopes. Many of the return addresses were unfamiliar, but she felt too tired and hungry to concern herself with the postal barrage at the moment. She deposited the pile on her desk and went upstairs to change out of her work clothes.
    More relaxed in pink sweats, Cass walked to the kitchen window. Her mouth curled into a smile, watching Evan put each stone in its precise place. The beauty he so easily perceived still evaded her, and she shook her head at the devastation. What choice did she have but to trust him?
    Her rumbling stomach drove her to the refrigerator. Evan would be in soon, and probably hungry, although she wasn't in the mood to cook. There wasn't much in the fridge other than leftovers, and she decided the spaghetti could be transformed into a meal with the minimal effort of adding a salad and some French bread.
    As she finished setting the table with candles and wine glasses, Evan entered, shedding his dirty work boots at the door. His bare chest inflated with a big breath. "Something smells good."
    She gestured toward his chair. "Voila! Ambiance, vino, and instant leftovers."
    "Whatever it is, it smells wonderful. I'm going to wash up. Back in a flash."
    Cassie dished the spaghetti into a bowl, poured the wine and sat. As an afterthought, she rose and turned off the lights. The flickering candles lent the romantic touch she sought.
    "Ouch!" Evan yelped.
    Cassie hurried to the hallway. "What happened?"
    "I ran into the door jamb. What happened to the lights? Did you forget to pay the electric bill?"
    "I'm sorry." She grinned. "I was trying to add a little atmosphere to the left-over spaghetti."
    He rubbed his forehead, and apparent even in the dim candlelight, his boyish grin let her know he wasn't too upset. Following her into the kitchen, he gave her a playful pat, then like a true gentleman, pulled out her chair before taking his own seat.
    Evan started to fill his own plate, but paused and offered her the first serving. Cassie obliged, taking only a small portion. The French bread looked much more appealing, and the crisp salad called her name.
    Her fork to her mouth, Evan lifted his wine glass. "A toast to my beautiful baby girl, my new business partner, and hopefully, someday, my wife."
    She gulped. Wife? It was far too soon to for a declaration like that. They hadn't even discussed marriage. Instead of a rebuttal, she forced a smile and raised her own glass, clinked the delicate crystal against his, and took a huge swallow of white zinfandel.
    During dinner, Evan chattered about business plans and his pending project in the back yard, the dreams he hoped to achieve, and the success they were bound to enjoy. Cassie's mind drifted to scary images of her in a bridal gown at their backyard wedding among mounds of dirt and throngs of guests all dressed in police