CASSIDY'S COURTSHIP

by Sharon Mignerey

  "No." Then she remembered. She was scheduled to get together with Nancy for another tutoring session at six. "Eight is fine."

  A day of new beginnings. A day to trust him with the truth.

  * * *

  Chapter 20

  « ^ »

  When Brenna got back to the apartment after her tutoring session with Nancy, she found Cole sitting on the front stoop with Teddy and Michael. In a matter of minutes she gathered up her things, and after a quick goodbye to her brother, they were in the Jeep on their way to Cole's house.

  He had fastened the canvas top on the Jeep, enveloping them inside their own private world.

  "Still on cloud nine?" Cole asked, picking up her hand in his right hand, glancing at her briefly, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

  "Having Harvey Bates paid off feels good," Brenna responded. "I kept thinking of that old song about owing my soul to the company store. And I don't anymore."

  Cole grinned. "I can relate." He kissed the back of her fingertips without taking his eyes off the road. "Nervous about coming home with me?"

  "Scared to death." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

  "You don't sound it."

  "Don't let that fool you. I'm terrified." She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead in mock horror.

  "So this is what terrified looks like. I always wondered."

  She watched him as they drove, not caring whether they were on their way to a mansion or a sleeping bag under a pine tree and a sky full of stars. Being with him was all she cared about, all she wanted.

  The drive took a bit more than a half hour, but to Brenna it seemed shorter. The graveled driveway was long and led to a two-story house that was shrouded in darkness. Even in the dark, she could see it was large with no other houses nearby—a far cry from the Cherry Creek townhome or the Lodo loft she had once envisioned him having.

  Cole got out of the Jeep, came around to her side, gave her a chaste kiss so full of tenderness and promise, it made her heart ache. She cupped his cheek with her hand. Without saying a word, he looked at her, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He pressed another kiss into her palm, then guided her toward the house. They mounted shallow stairs to a wide porch. After unlocking the front door, he led her through the house without turning on lights.

  "Are you a cat or something?" she whispered. "Prowling through the house in the dark?"

  "Nope," he replied, lifting her in his arms. "I've just been thinking I didn't know how I was going to get along without having you in my bed. I hated taking you back to Michael's last night."

  He kissed her. No chaste kiss, this one.

  "If I turn the lights on, you're going to want a tour." He took her mouth in another kiss, this one deeper. She wound her arms around him. "And, fair lady, I don't want us to get distracted."

  If he had asked her, she would have told him what was important to her. And it wasn't his house, curious though she was. He swept her off her feet and carried her up the stairs as though she weighed nothing, went through a wide doorway, and set her feet on the floor at the edge of the bed.

  "Do you know what I've been thinking about today?" Cole asked.

  Brenna shook her head as he began unbuttoning her blouse.

  "I was thinking I've never made love to you in a bed." He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. "In my bed." He traced a path of liquid fire with his tongue from her shoulder to her neck. "I was thinking I'm glad you don't have a job at night any more. Having you with me at night—that's what I want." He flashed her an apologetic smile. "I know that sounds selfish."

  "I … want that, too."

  Pulling her into his arms, he unfastened the clasp of her bra and slid the straps down her arms. "I was thinking how happy I am for you that you've got the Harvey Bates mess behind you." He pulled back a fraction to let the bra drop to the floor between them. "I was thinking I'd go crazy if I had to wait another minute to hold you like this." Drawing her close again, he captured her mouth with his own.

  At the touch of her breasts against the fabric of his shirt, Brenna was consumed with the kind of wanting he described—on fire from his words, on fire from his touch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let herself sink into the moment. She drew closer, needing his touch more than air.

  His lips trailed across her face, and she tipped her head back offering him access to her neck. As he gently caught the skin of her neck between his teeth, his hands slid lower, cupping her breasts for a too-brief, aching moment. Then he slid his palms down her back, under the waistband of her skirt and panties, pushing both down her legs until they fell to the floor.

  With a groan, Cole gathered her back into his arms, fully absorbing the feeling of her naked body pressed against his clothed one. She fit him so perfectly. When she stood on tiptoe, arching her body against his, she took his breath away.

  "I love you," he whispered against the satin skin of her neck. "I love you," he whispered as he lowered her onto the bed. "I love you," he whispered as he covered her body with his.

  Those three words lit her soul like a comet streaking its blazing trail across the night sky. Unexpected. Breathtakingly beautiful. She pulled his head down, giving him a deep, searching kiss, tears slipping from under her closed eyelids. Sweet heaven, she wanted it to be true. More than anything she wanted to admit to him his feelings were returned. Fully. Her throat constricted, and the words went no further than the edge of her mind.

  She showed him she returned his love in the only way she knew how. With hands that trembled, she helped him take off his shirt, spreading her fingers through the hair on his chest to the sensitive skin beneath. Lightly, she raked her nails across the front of his slacks, and her breath hitched when she felt his involuntary throb.

  With a sigh of impatience, she unfastened the waistband of his trousers and unzipped the fly, teasing them both by not touching him. A heavy, empty throb deep within urged her to hurry. She pushed the pants down his hips, laughing softly as they caught not only on his legs, but hers.

  "Shoes," Cole muttered between biting kisses across her face and neck.

  "Sorry, but I refuse to make love with a man wearing shoes," she said. "They have to go."

  He joined her soft laugh, kicking off the shoes. "We might have to try that sometime as part of our research."

  "Sounds pretty kinky to me." She helped free his legs of the slacks and encountered his socks. She slid those off his feet and threw them across the floor. "Socks are definitely out."

  He pulled her back into his arms. "Better, my Brenna. Just you and me. Skin to skin." He pinned her beneath him, kneading the soft fullness of her breasts, finding the liquid softness at the juncture of her thighs. She lifted her hips into his hand, an invitation that was irresistible to him.

  He brought himself closer, easing his painfully aroused flesh closer until he touched her softness. She melted over him, and he groaned, rubbing against her without giving her the culmination they both wanted. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him to complete his possession of her.

  "Please love me," she whispered against his ear.

  "I am," he said, giving her what she wanted. "I do. Ah, Brenna … I … do."

  Cole felt Brenna shift her body until they were fitted together intimately, fully. She opened her eyes, luminous in the moonlight with tears and unspoken longing. Her half smile tore at him as he sensed she was as complete within his embrace as he was in hers. He caught her mouth in a kiss and held her there, at the crest of their shimmering peak until it became too much to bear. Together, they surged over the top in a wild rush of sensation that left them gasping for breath.

  The moments that followed were languid, peaceful. Brenna knew she wasn't asleep, but she didn't feel fully awake either. Simply, the moment absorbed her. Cole's heated, sated body curled around hers, and within his embrace she felt safe, treasured, accepted. Precious feelings that made her press kisses against his temple, his cheek. One m
oment stretched into another, and at some point, she fell asleep.

  * * *

  When Brenna woke at sunrise, she found that sometime during the night Cole had covered them with a sheet. He lay with her back pulled against his chest, spoon style, his warm arm wrapped around her waist. She lightly brushed her hand over his arm, then smiled as he pressed a kiss against her shoulder. Even in sleep, his actions were loving.

  Snuggled within the security of Cole's embrace, she examined the room and found it to be as masculine and unique as the man. Cream walls, an entire wall of built-in shelves that were filled with books, stereo equipment, and a television. Above them, suspended from a vaulted ceiling, a fan revolved. A skylight revealed a brilliant blue sky. A west-facing sliding glass door to a balcony had a magnificent view of Long's Peak.

  Quietly, Brenna slipped out of bed and went to the door. She fell in love instantly with the view and knew she would find the mountain as fascinating when shrouded in winter snow as she did now. Below the balcony was a huge yard. Trees that would someday shade the house and provide privacy from the road had been planted on the south side of the yard. Brenna picked up Cole's shirt and slipped it on as she left the bedroom.

  Last night she only had time for an impression of spaciousness as Cole brought her through the house. Cream walls throughout the house were set off by dark blue and dark brown accents. Everywhere, Cole's interest in sailing was apparent, from paintings and reproductions of nineteenth-century ships to the glass-covered wooden wheel that made up the coffee table. With a last satisfied glance at the living room, she went to the kitchen. She found the coffee and the coffee maker, and brewed a pot.

  Then she went outside, strolling across the yard to the fenced vegetable garden that was as full of weeds as Cole had told her it would be. She resisted the urge to start a job that she knew she wouldn't have time to finish this morning.

  Brenna turned back around to face the house. Her dream, come to life.

  A spacious two-story house with a wide porch and a swing. Wide-open spaces big enough for children and dogs. Starched priscillas at the window.

  Her breath caught, and tears filled her eyes.

  Cole's home.

  Her dream.

  Unbidden comparisons between this house and all the houses she had lived in as a child filed one by one through her mind. Cole's home had a permanence she longed for. He had planted trees that took years to grow, to watch, to appreciate. Her mother had planted tomatoes, and two different years they had been transferred before they could be harvested. Cole had filled the flower beds with perennials—irises, shasta daisies, and poppies that would bloom for years. Her mother had kept two pots filled with petunias. Everywhere Brenna looked indicated this was a place where roots had been sunk … deeply. That felt as comfortable and terrifying as Cole himself did.

  Cole awoke with a start, then swore under his breath at the time on the clock. He was out of bed and halfway across the room when his glance lit on Brenna's clothes strewn carelessly across the floor. The aching intensity of their lovemaking flooded him with a clarity that instantly aroused him.

  "Brenna," he called. When she didn't answer, he went to the open door of the bedroom and called down the stairwell. Turning around, through the sliding glass door, he caught sight of her outside. He went to the door intending to tell her good-morning, but his voice trailed into a whisper when he saw her expression.

  Even from the bedroom, he could see the wet tracks of tears on her face. She stood with her arms wrapped around her waist as she looked at the house. Then she turned away and dropped her head, her posture as full of defeat as it had been the day she had walked out of his office all those months ago.

  Her tears were a punch in the gut. He didn't know their source, but only one thing mattered. Making her feel better.

  Grabbing a robe off the hook on the bathroom door, Cole bounded down the stairs.

  He threw open the kitchen door and stepped onto the porch. "Brenna, are you okay?"

  She turned around just in time to see him come down the steps and across the lawn to her, concern etched on his face.

  "Yes," she said, reaching to touch his cheek.

  "No, you're not," he said gruffly. "You're crying. What's wrong?"

  She wiped her eyes with the sleeves of the shirt she had borrowed from him. "You didn't want a wonderful apartment in Chicago," she said, her voice sounding vaguely accusing.

  "I didn't," he agreed, wondering what had prompted that statement. "That was part of the problem."

  "And Christmases in a tropical paradise?"

  "I didn't want them, either. If that makes me dull, then I'm dull."

  "You're not dull."

  He smiled, even as he watched more tears trickle down her cheeks. "I'm glad you think so, Brenna."

  "I love you," she whispered, her voice carrying a note of anguish he didn't understand. "I love you," she repeated, as if the realization surprised her.

  Cole wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her against him. "Loving me isn't supposed to make you unhappy."

  "It doesn't."

  "Then why the tears?"

  "I've never wanted anything so much or been so scared I can't have it," she answered truthfully.

  Cole's laugh was soft, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked toward the house. "I'm all yours, fair lady, for as long as you want."

  Inside the house, Brenna turned into his arms, holding him close with all her strength. For as long as she wanted. Forever was what she wanted.

  Cole smoothed his hand across the back of her head. "If we don't get a move on, I'm going to miss a court appearance this morning."

  At the rueful tone in his voice, Brenna lifted her head and smiled through her tears. "All mine, huh? Or until it's time to go to work?" She aimed a playful swat at his backside, which he easily deflected.

  "All yours," he repeated, picking her up and lifting her over his shoulder.

  "Looks like I've got you, too," she said, pulling up the hem of his robe to pinch his bare bottom.

  He laughed. "Two can play that game, sweetheart." He retaliated in kind, then let his big, warm palm linger on her skin, his long fingers skimming the back of her thighs.

  They took a shower together, laughing and playing and appeasing the hunger they aroused in one another. Later, she lotioned her arms and legs while watching him shave. As he dressed, the playful man was gradually lost beneath a more austere facade. He kept touching her as they passed one another. She wanted nothing more than to have a lifetime of mornings with him just like thin one.

  * * *

  Cole promised Brenna that he would call her just as soon as he got out of court. His lingering kiss and softly spoken "I love you" left no doubt in her mind that she was important to him.

  Teddy greeted her with an enthusiastic hug when she stepped inside. Seconds later, Jane emerged from the bedroom, ready to leave for class. She took one look at Brenna and hugged her, as well.

  "You're glowing," Jane said simply. "I think he is a good man—good for you."

  Brenna couldn't have agreed more. Cole was good for her. She toyed with the idea of leaving everything alone, of hoping she would learn to read quickly enough to make the lack a moot point. Even as the thought came to her, she discarded it. Cole had been honest with her, and he deserved no less. And he loved her. She had to believe that somehow that would make things okay, that he would understand.

  "Your father is in Fort Carson today," Jane said. "Michael and Teddy plan to go pick him up when he calls later."

  "That's nice," Brenna responded absently, her thoughts still centered on Cole.

  "Perhaps you would like to go with them."

  She shook her head. "Not a good idea."

  Jane got along well with the Colonel, a fact that always amazed Brenna, especially after she figured out that Jane assumed everyone got along with him as well as she did.

  "It's been a good visit," Jane volunteered. "You know h
ow stern your father can be, but I think he is enjoying himself."

  "We're going to go see airplanes with Grandpa," Teddy said, palling on Brenna's hand to get her attention.

  "That sounds like fun," Brenna responded.

  "Do you want to come?" he asked.

  "I have other things to do today." Standing in line at the unemployment office held far more appeal than spending time with her father. No matter how neutral the territory, he always managed to find a way to make her feel defensive and on edge.

  And face it, she told herself. She had plenty to make her feel on edge without adding her father to the mix. Yesterday she had promised herself the next time she saw Cole she would tell him she couldn't read. Well, she had spent a good part of yesterday with him, and she hadn't mentioned it. Not anything remotely close to it.

  Jane left for class. Brenna set out crayons and a tablet of drawing paper for Teddy. She doodled with him, wondering how to tell Cole she could not read.

  Her mental rehearsal took a dozen different forms, and none of it sounded right to her. You know that lawsuit. Well, that happened because I couldn't read a bank statement. I really did think I had several thousand dollars in the account. You find bank statements confusing, too? No, that isn't what I mean.

  You remember that night you wanted to play Scrabble. Well, that's a little difficult. I couldn't spell the word Scrabble if you paid me.

  She couldn't imagine boldly saying to Cole, "I can't read."

  "I know that, Auntie Brennie," Teddy said.

  She glanced at her nephew, unaware she had spoken aloud until Teddy responded.

  "But you're learning. Just like me."

  "Yes," Brenna said. "Just like you."

  "I can help you."

  "I know you can." She tousled Teddy's head, praying she would find the same matter-of-fact acceptance in Cole.

  He called just as she and Teddy finished having lunch. "Will you be free by late afternoon?"

  "I should be," she answered. "I have just one house to clean this afternoon, and it's a small one. I should be done by four-thirty or so."

  "That's great. I intended to feed you dinner last night, and I missed it. We have to try again tonight. Maybe a picnic supper. What do you think?"