“You know he doesn’t define you, right?” I start. “The only thing he did for you was provide life experience, which you’ve grown from and become a tougher person because of. That’s it.” When she doesn’t reply, I turn my head to see her brows furrowed and her lip between her teeth. “What?”
She shakes her head, but doesn’t look at me. “Nothing. It’s just that I was either dating or married to Asher for twelve years… it’s hard to move past that.”
“Do you still love him?” I want to grab the question out of the air and swallow it back down, but I can’t. It’s out there now and I’m not sure I want to hear her answer, but then she huffs a laugh.
“No,” she says with ferocity. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m hurt and pissed… actually, I’m neither of those anymore. I’m just… done… and definitely not in love with Asher.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, but try to hide it with a cough.
“And just for the record,” I add, needing to get one more thing out in the open. “You’re better than all of those people who chose Asher’s side after the divorce. They obviously don’t know what they’re missing out on by not having you in their lives… or they’re too stupid to realize.”
She laughs. “You have to say that.”
“Why?” I ask, incredulously.
“Because you’re my friend.” The way she draws out friend makes it a stark reminder to what zone she’s placed me in and also that she needs me to fill that role.
I want to be Tempest’s friend.
I just want to be that and so much more.
“Thanks for that,” she says after a few minutes as we make the turn onto the road that leads into Green Valley, which means our time together is almost up. “For being my friend,” she adds and I can feel her gaze on me, so I keep my eyes on the road. “You came to town just in time… it’s like the universe knew I needed someone.”
When I turn down her road, I remember the gloves I bought for her, but decide to keep them for our next session.
“So, you’re still on for the class reunion, right?” she asks. “Even after knowing that I went to school with a bunch of assholes.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell her, turning into her drive. “There’s no way in hell I’d let you go alone.”
And that’s the truth. If she’s going to that damn reunion, I’m going with her, if for no other reason than to make sure Asher and his new wife don’t make any trouble for Tempest. I get why she needs to go, but I wish she didn’t feel like she had to. Most people claim that in ten years everyone changes and people who were enemies are friends… and the unpopular people are now part of the in crowd. But some people never change. Change only happens when a person wants something different. It sounds to me like all of these people are still stuck on being the same assholes they were ten years ago.
“Thank you,” she says, unbuckling her seat belt and reaching for the door. “I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
This time when she turns to look at me, I meet her stare and those green eyes draw me in. When she darts her tongue out to wet her bottom lip, I can’t help staring, wishing I could have a taste… just one.
Maybe there wouldn’t be a spark. Maybe this connection I’ve felt since the night I drove her home from the bar is what Tempest keeps saying… friends. But maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s what I feel deep down in my gut. Maybe it’s more.
Before I know what’s happening, Tempest leans across the seat and her lips graze my cheek… like a friendly kiss, but not. So fucking not. The way her mouth hesitates over my skin, her breath eliciting a groan from the deepest parts of my soul, I can’t help myself.
Just that small gesture has my entire body sparking to life. Letting my mind and any thoughts of just being friends fly out the window, I reach up and cup her face, pausing for the briefest of moments to drink her in, feeling her soft skin under my palm. Sweet. Delicious. Fucking perfect.
When my fingers slide into her hair, caressing the strands like I’ve wanted to on so many occasions, she leans into it, closing her eyes and giving me the non-verbal permission I’m looking for.
My lips brush hers.
Once.
Twice.
And then she’s kissing me back.
At first, it’s soft and slow—tentative. Then, she parts her lips and I deepen the kiss, slipping my tongue against hers. It’s everything I ever wanted it to be and so much more. When her hands grip my shoulders, I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer and loving the way her body feels pressed against mine… so good… so right.
Just as I’m getting ready to move her into my lap and devour her, a phone rings.
Tempest jerks back, her eyes going wide as her hand comes up to cover her mouth. She stares at me like a deer in headlights for a split second before she breaks the connection and answers her phone. A bit breathless, she says, “hello,” without looking at the screen, like she’d talk to the devil if he’d give her an out.
When her shoulders go rigid, those fucking walls that I hate so much thud back into place.
Fucking Asher… I have a love-hate relationship with that prick. I love him for fucking things up because I want Tempest for myself. But I hate him for what he did to her and the distrust he planted in her heart. That’s not going to be an easy thing to get past, but I’m not going to stop trying.
Chapter 19
Tempest
Standing in the middle of my empty living room, I’m not sure how to feel.
When Asher and I bought this house almost nine years ago, months before our wedding, I thought we’d live here forever. I remember the first time I sat on the front porch and envisioned our children playing in the yard and years of happiness… and one day, being old and gray and sitting with my husband on a quiet evening.
Part of me wants to write love off, letting go of those old dreams and wishes.
I want to say I tried and obviously failed horribly, so why even try again?
But another part of me still wants it and believes it might still be out there for me… someone might still be out there for me. Someone who will love me unconditionally and fight for a forever, instead of throwing it to the wayside the moment something, or someone, better—more appealing—comes along. I want to believe there’s someone who brings out the best in me, instead of the worst. Someone who wants to be my best friend and do life together.
When Cage’s face pops into my mind, I try to shake it off, like I’ve done for the past few days.
That kiss.
That damn kiss shook me to my core.
I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve never felt that way. Not my first kiss with Asher or the last kiss or any of the kisses in between. He never made me feel like the world was tilting and everything around me was falling away, leaving only me and him. But that’s how I felt when Cage kissed me… or did I kiss him?
Yeah, I definitely kissed him. I was so caught up in the moment and the feelings I was having—so grateful for him and his friendship. When I leaned in to kiss his cheek, something happened. I was overwhelmed by his closeness and his scent, everything was heightened and I just fell into it… into him. Then, his lips touched mine and once the threshold had been crossed, I was done for. There’s a good chance I would’ve let that kiss carry me all the way to bed, and then my phone rang and popped the bubble, pulling me back to reality.
I’m Tempest Cassidy, recently divorced and not looking for a rebound.
I don’t jump into things without thinking them through.
Recent events excluded.
Maybe that methodical, well-planned Tempest checked out the day she walked in on her husband and his mistress? Maybe that snap I felt inside my body was a switch?
Regardless, I can’t let that kiss happen again, because I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions. Cage Erickson holds great power over me. He has the potential to make me forget myself and my inhibitions. If my phone hadn’t rang, there’s no
telling what would’ve happened and that scares me… and thrills me.
My body still tingles every time I think about how his lips felt as they were claiming mine—a residual electrical current attached to the memory.
“That’s the last of it,” my dad says, walking in the front door, his voice echoing off the empty walls, driving home the realization that this place holds nothing any longer—no furniture, no pictures… no love… only memories… and those aren’t good ones. All of the good ones have been tainted and forgotten, replaced with betrayal and hurt.
I nod, turning to face him. “I’m ready to go.”
“Maybe we should make one last sweep?” he asks, looking around the space.
“No, it’s good… if anything gets left behind, the next couple can have it.”
I don’t want anything that reminds me of Asher, so most of the furniture was either sold or donated. My kitchen appliances are staying with the house. The rest of it—my baking supplies, stand mixer, pots and pans—has been packed up for over a week. The new bed and bedding I bought recently is already in my new apartment—a studio apartment half a block away from the bakery.
Two blocks from Cage, but who’s counting?
I’ve been trying to ignore the fact we’ll practically be neighbors. It’s probably not the best location for me, given my weakness when it comes to him, but it’s cheap and close to work. For now, I just need a place to call my own and regroup. At some point, I’ll probably buy a house again, but it’ll be mine and won’t have anything to do with Asher Williams.
Now that the house is sold, there’s nothing left between the two of us, and I honestly couldn’t be happier. “Let’s go,” I tell my dad, walking past him and out the door, leaving the key on the counter in the kitchen and the last of my anger and resentment with it.
It’s time to let all of it go and move on with my life.
My dad helps me get the boxes moved into the apartment above the old hardware store. After the kiss and the phone call from my realtor telling me the house sold and the buyers wanted to move in ASAP, Cage offered to help, but with all of the mixed feelings coursing through my body, I couldn’t accept.
My internal walls crept up as I answered the phone and the realization of what I’d done hit me full force, along with Cage’s intense stare. I felt them fortifying, protecting me from the inside out. And I think Cage saw it, because when I got out of the truck, there was disappointment and regret written all over his face.
“Your mama said she’d come over and help you get everything settled,” my dad says, setting the last box down on the counter. “She would’ve come tonight, but she had a prayer meeting.”
I nod, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my jeans as I look around at my new place. “It’s fine. I’d really like to do it myself… you know, fresh start, all me,” I say with a smile.
My dad meets my gaze and holds it. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he says, willing it to be so. My whole life, when things go topsy-turvy, he’s always been there to remind me that it’ll all work out—this too shall pass. Even through his tough love lessons over the past six months, he never failed to remind me that I was going to make it. Unlike my mama, my daddy never doubts me. He may not always understand me or my motives, but he always believes in me.
“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him, walking over and wrapping my arms around him. “Not just for your vote of confidence, but for all your help… for always being there.”
He sighs, his arms squeezing my shoulders. “You’re my baby girl. That’s my job.”
“But you won’t bail me out of jail anymore?” I ask, teasing.
He chuckles and releases my shoulders, pulling me back to look at me. “I don’t think I’m gonna need to,” he says, sincerity in his expression and tone. “I think that’s behind us…don’t you?”
It’s like he wants to say more, something about Asher or the past, but he doesn’t. My daddy is typically a man of few words, always practicing the belief that actions speak louder.
“Yeah,” I tell him, walking over to the large window overlooking the main road that cuts through downtown. “I think my inmate days are over.”
From here, I can see the bakery and the barber shop. I can’t see the building Cage lives in, because it’s on the same side of the road as mine, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about him and wondering what he’s up to… probably already working his shift at the Pink Pony.
“Good,” he says, making his way across the room. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Tell mama I’ll call her.”
He nods, reaching for the door. “Call if you need anything… and lock this door.”
“Daddy, this is Green Valley… what do you think is gonna happen?”
Turning around, he gives me a look… the look. “Tempest,” he warns.
“Fine, yes,” I tell him—appeasing him. “I’ll lock my door.”
Keeping his eyes on me for a few more moments, he grunts and opens the door. “If I come over here to check up on you and this door is unlocked, I might have Sheriff James put you in jail just to put my mind at ease.”
“Daddy.” Now it’s my turn to warn him. Sometimes, he forgets that I’m twenty-eight and not eight. I guess, to him, I’ll always be his little girl… and one of these days, if I ever get a chance, I hope to know what that feels like.
One of these days.
After he’s gone, I do walk over and lock the door. Sure, this is Green Valley, but I feel a bit more exposed and alone being in an apartment as opposed to my safe little neighborhood surrounded by familiar faces. But I’ve also never felt freer—freer to be myself and do what I want… when I want, how I want… who I want.
Stop it, Tempest.
Knock that shit off.
I’ve barely got one box unloaded before my phone rings.
“Hey, Mama,” I say, cradling the phone between my cheek and shoulder so I can continue to work.
“Tempest,” she says and I get comfortable, because I can tell by her tone that I’m in for a lengthy monologue. My mama can give Shakespeare a run for his money. “Your daddy just got home and was telling me that this new… apartment,” she says the word like it’s displeasing her by existing, “isn’t very safe… are you sure you don’t just want to move home. It could save you money and save your father and I the grief of worrying about you.”
I hear my daddy arguing with her in the background. I’m pretty sure there is a “leave that girl alone” followed by a “mind your own business”, to which she shushes him and continues.
“I just think this is a rash decision and you haven’t thought it through. What, with Asher’s indiscretions and the untimely… separation.” She’s yet to say the word divorce. I want to spell it out for her and force her to repeat it over and over until she gets it through her head that we’re divorced… finished, done, over. In the words of Taylor Swift, we’re never ever getting back together. “You might not be thinking clearly,” she continues. “I know you’ve been attending these sessions, but I think you need something more, like counseling. Pastor Johnson would be more than happy to see you until you can get past this and find it in your heart to forgive Asher.”
She takes a breath, but barely, before pressing on.
“We are all just human, Tempest, Asher included, and it is not our place to judge. But it is our place to uphold the sanctity of marriage.”
Oh, here we go.
Please, Lord, give me strength.
I clench my jaw and breathe out of my nose, slow and steady.
“You made a promise to God to love and cherish him. And part of loving someone is forgiving them. I know things don’t seem fixable right now, but with some time… and prayer… I think the two of you can come to a place of understanding and move on with your lives.”
When I’ve had my fill, I finally stop her. “Mama, I know you mean well.” I’ve found over the years, it’s always better to start with that, giving her the benefit of the dou
bt, because deep down, I know she does. She loves me. And she cares about my happiness. She just has a screwed up way of showing it sometimes. “But Asher and I aren’t getting back together. Ever.”
There’s no sense beating around the bush. I might as well lay it all out there for her. Rip that bandaid right off.
“He and Mindy are married. They’re having a baby. And even if he were to crawl back to me on his hands and knees, I still wouldn’t take him back.”
Her audible gasp has me rolling my eyes, but it doesn’t deter me. “I’m staying in the apartment. I’m staying divorced. And I don’t need counseling from Pastor Johnson. Actually, the last thing I need is one more person in this town knowing my business.”
I almost add that I might need to get laid, but decide that I don’t want to give my mother a coronary, so I skip that one.
“Thank you for being concerned about my well-being… but I’m fine on my own.” Repeating my daddy’s words, I tell her, “I’m going to be just fine.”
“Fine,” she replies, a bit of sarcasm in her tone. “Just fine… but don’t call me when you’re dead in a ditch.”
“Mama!”
From the other end of the phone, I hear my daddy have a similar response.
“Oh, you know I’m not serious,” she scolds. “Lord knows I’d lose my mind if anything ever happened to you… I just love you and want what’s best.”
“I know, Mama, and I love you too.”
“Lock your door.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A few hours later, I have every box unpacked and almost everything put away, except for a small box of random papers. With my hands on my hips, I blow a stray strand of hair from my face and admire my work. Since the walls are brick, and I don’t have a drill, I just propped my big mirror against one wall and one of my favorite larger prints against another.
Stud Muffin: Donner Bakery Book #2 Page 17
