The Past Between Us

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Meandering from the kitchen she moved down the short hallway and peered into the guest bedroom, which he’d turned into a small workout center. That explained the chiseled abs she found most delightful and distracting.

  She took a left and entered his bedroom. Goose pimples rioted along her forearms as she found him standing there stripped and changing into a fresh set of clothes.

  “I know a way to spice up this room,” she noted casually, trailing her fingers over his neatly made bed.

  He grabbed a shirt from his drawer and looked away to find a pair of socks. “I can only imagine…” But as he turned to face her, his jaw went slack as she’d completely divested herself of her clothing and was standing there nude.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his gaze feasting on her every curve. “We don’t have time…”

  Her mouth lifted in a playful smile. “Darling, have you never heard of the quickie? I’m sure we have plenty of time.”

  A feral grin split his face. “Hell, yeah,” he growled, dropping his shirt so it landed in a heap on the floor as he tackled her on the bed. She squealed in delight, her fingers dancing along his waistband, eager to pull him from his jeans. He cupped her breasts and buried his face against the soft flesh, pressing fevered kisses to the sensitive skin. “You’re a bad influence on me, I think,” he murmured right before sucking a tight, budded nipple into his hot mouth.

  “I know,” she admitted, not the least bit sorry. “But as bad influences go…I’m pretty good, wouldn’t you say?”

  He answered with his mouth…everywhere.

  Cassi sank into the bed and lost herself in the feel of being totally possessed by a man who was obsessed with her pleasure first and wondered if it were possible to keep him in her bed, perpetually sidetracked for the rest of their lives. Her sigh turned into a moan as he put her legs over his shoulders and plunged so deep she nearly saw stars. He rode her hard, drawing out an orgasm so intense she lost her breath, and she was sure her heart stopped.

  “Tommy,” she said, when she could finally speak, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could, reveling in the feel of their hearts beating frantically together.

  “Yeah, babe,” he managed to say as he rested his sweat-dampened forehead against hers.

  “Let me know when you’re ready for round two.”

  He looked up to gauge if she were serious and when she grinned up at him, he rolled until she was on top, her mound resting slickly atop his already-thickening shaft, his grin matching hers. “I’m ready when you are, sweetheart.”

  And Cassi reveled in the fun of the sequel of a not-so-quick quickie and the art of avoiding emotional quicksand.

  IF IT WERE POSSIBLE, Cassi would’ve sunk into the upholstery of the car and disappeared before they arrived at Mama Jo’s, but as they pulled up to the house, the white clapboard siding gleaming in the dim moonlight, Cassi knew she had nowhere to run. She’d have to face the diminutive woman and deal with whatever fallout there may be.

  Tommy gave her a reassuring grin as he said, “Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite. But she may lecture you a bit.” At Cassi’s look of distress, he laughed. “I can’t believe this. You look ready to throw up. It’s not going to be that bad. She’ll mostly be happy to see you. I promise.”

  Cassi swallowed. Maybe he was right. Mama Jo had always had a big heart. She’d have to to become a foster parent and then willingly adopt three of the boys with the worst personal histories. Just from their backgrounds alone, the boys screamed “head cases” but she’d handled each one with a grace and skill that defied logic. In truth, Cassi had always secretly been in awe of the small black woman.

  Tommy walked up the stairs and she trailed behind him. He knocked once and then walked in like he owned the place because this was his childhood sanctuary and Mama Jo didn’t stand on ceremony.

  The minute she stepped over the threshold and the familiar smells of the old farmhouse assailed her nostrils, the memories popped up sharp and vibrant. She could close her eyes and see herself sitting over by the black potbellied stove where Mama Jo would have a kettle chirping to keep moisture in the air and coffee percolating at all hours because you never knew when guests might arrive. Mama Jo had Southern hospitality ingrained in her bones. She believed in two things with the fervor of a devout Christian. One, always offer a guest coffee or sweet tea; and two, a home-cooked meal would solve most problems.

  She was the black version of Paula Dean, and Cassi had always secretly wished that she’d been born in a house like Mama Jo’s instead of her own. What Mama Jo didn’t have in material items she made up for with love and plenty of good food.

  And right now, Cassi was terrified of how Mama’s opinion of her may have been damaged from her actions so long ago.

  “We’re here,” Tommy hollered, his voice ringing through the house.

  “Come on in and close the door behind you so we don’t catch our death from a draft,” a voice said, floating in from the kitchen area.

  Tommy did as instructed and they headed toward the back of the house. The scuffed and worn floor-boards groaned under their weight, making it impossible to sneak up on anyone in this house, and they entered the kitchen.

  Myriad savory smells filled the warm room, and there was Mama Jo, stirring a pot of something and gesturing at Tommy to come and kiss her cheek, which he hastened to do. Then she turned to Cassi and she gave her a good long look over the top of her glasses. Cassi felt stripped to the bone with that sharp gaze. The woman could probably work for the government in interrogation. She hadn’t said a word yet but Cassi had the overwhelming need to confess every little dirty secret she held to her breast.

  But then Mama Jo returned to her pot and without commenting on anything from the past, said to Cassi, “Well, now, don’t just stand there, missy. You know where the plates are. Do you remember how to set a proper table?”

  She blinked and then stammered, shooting an unsure glance at Tommy, “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  Mama Jo nodded approvingly. “Well, then what you waitin’ for, honey? We can’t eat this dinner in our laps now can we? Grab the soup bowls, too.” Then she turned to Tommy. “Make yourself useful and go get the sweet tea from the outside refrigerator, son.”

  Tommy winked at Cassi and went to do as requested, leaving the two women alone. Going from memory, Cassi went to the cabinet and grabbed the plates and flatware. Aside from the sound of whatever was bubbling in the pot and simmering on the stove, there was nothing but silence. Cassi kept waiting for Mama Jo to say something, but she didn’t. She kept whatever she was thinking to herself and it was driving Cassi crazy. Frankly, she’d rather the woman berate her up one side and down the other for being such a screwup than suffer the silence.

  “You look good, Mama Jo,” Cassi offered tentatively, placing the bowls on the table.

  “Mmm-hmm,” was all she said to that. “Brown isn’t your color, child. Hand me that bowl, please. I can’t quite reach it.” Cassi reached the bowl on the top shelf and handed it to Mama Jo. “Seems you’ve been up to all sorts of mischief, I hear.”

  Her cheeks burned and she glanced around for Tommy. Where the hell did he go for that sweet tea? The neighboring county? “Uh, well, a little. I’m trying to make things right, though.”

  Mama Jo nodded and ladled the thick stew into the bowl and handed it to Cassi to put on the table. Then she pulled fresh biscuits from the oven and put them in a red gingham bread basket. She handed the basket to Cassi just as Tommy returned carrying the pitcher of sweet tea. “Ah, there we go. Nothing fancy tonight, just good old-fashioned stuff that’ll stick to your ribs for a time. Come on, now, take a seat and let’s catch up.”

  A wide smile wreathed the older woman’s face and a pang of wistful longing followed. When Mama Jo took someone into her heart she didn’t let them go easily. Her love was fierce and generous but Cassi felt she’d forfeited that privilege the day she said those awful things. Tears pricked her eyes and Mama Jo, sharp as ev
er, caught the glitter before she could wipe it away.

  “Have a biscuit, Cassi honey,” she instructed, passing the biscuit basket. “There’s nothing that’s so bad that can’t be fixed with fresh butter melting on a hot biscuit.” She took a biscuit herself and tore it apart to slather it with butter. A bite later, after she’d slowly chewed and enjoyed a very perfect biscuit, she said, “Now, tell me about this trouble you’re in.”

  TOMMY SAT AND FILLED HIS belly while Cassi reluctantly brought Mama Jo up to speed on her current situation.

  Cassi finished by jerking up her pant leg and showing the anklet. “And now I have to wear this stupid thing like a damn dog or something. It’s humiliating.”

  “It’s temporary and you should be grateful that you’re not sitting in the holding cell,” Tommy reminded her but Cassi was having none of it.

  Her fire returning, she said, “Yeah, well if I hadn’t let you talk me into turning myself in I’d be anklet-free with my dignity intact.”

  “Your dignity is just fine,” Tommy grumbled, a little annoyed that she wasn’t even the slightest bit willing to see how he’d put himself on the line to secure her freedom.

  Mama Jo’s eyes danced as she listened to the two of them spar and for a second it felt like old times. Cassi had often showed up at Mama Jo’s when they were kids. Cassi had loved the simple home with its well-trodden floors that spoke of countless little feet that had echoed through the single-story farmhouse. This was a house filled with so much love the porch bowed in certain spots. Once Mama Jo had adopted “her boys” she’d resigned her spot in the social services roster saying she had her hands full with him, Christian and Owen. In spite of being a privileged princess who was accustomed to maids and a nanny, Cassi had fit right in with the eclectic group.

  “How are your brothers doing?” Cassi asked, breaking into his thoughts and changing the subject. “I thought about stopping in to see Christian while I was in New York but I hadn’t quite figured out how to do that without tipping you or any other law enforcement who might’ve been looking for me.”

  “He’s doing good. Making money hand over fist in that fancy Manhattan bar.” He looked to Mama Jo. “He told me to tell you that he loves and misses you. No one makes bread pudding like you. Not even in any of those rich restaurants, he said.”

  Mama Jo warmed under the praise but her mouth pursed. “That boy…such a sweet talker. Next time you talk to him you tell him a phone call wouldn’t break the bank now and then.” She sighed. “I wish he’d come home once in a while. I know he’s doing good but I worry about him around all those city girls. He’s got a soft heart you know,” she said, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

  “You’ve always babied him,” he said, but there was no true rivalry there. Christian was a year younger than both him and Owen but the kid had probably seen more of the gritty side of life than either of them had before he hit the tender age of five. “He’s fine,” he assured her.

  “And what about Owen?” Cassi asked.

  “Stressed. He’s dealing with some kind of environmental group that’s out to shut down his logging operation. It’s driving him nuts. But you know Owen…he’ll come through. He’s as stubborn and hardheaded as someone else I know.”

  Cassi gave him a look that said “Ha, ha” and got up to help Mama Jo clear the table.

  “I’ll never understand why he had to go so far away,” Mama Jo said, shaking her head. “They have trees right here in West Virginia. No need to run off to the wilds of California.”

  Cassi laughed softly. “Owen hates to shovel snow. He probably figured he’d never have to shovel snow again if he moved away from the East Coast.”

  They all chuckled at that and Thomas felt the tension flow from his body. The events from the past few days faded and he could almost forget that there was a mess still waiting for them.

  Almost.

  Mama Jo served up some cobbler she made from peaches she’d frozen earlier in the summer and then they moved to the living room.

  “Cassi, where are you staying, honey?” Mama Jo asked.

  Cassi’s gaze darted to him and he interjected, “With me. She’s in my custody.”

  Mama Jo’s mouth turned down in a frown. “That’s not proper. She’s not your wife. Not yet anyway,” she added, and Thomas nearly jumped at her assumption. He started to say something to the contrary but she shushed him and patted Cassi’s hand. “You can stay here in Tommy’s old bedroom. Besides, I could use the company now that my boys are all grown-up and have forgotten where home is.”

  Cassi smiled and shot him a triumphant look before saying, “I’d love to stay here with you, Mama Jo. Thank you for offering.”

  But there was no way he was letting Cassi out of his sight. He didn’t trust her not to sneak out in the middle of the night, which would not only make major problems for him on the job front but it would crack Mama Jo’s heart, and that’s one thing he couldn’t abide.

  “Sorry, Mama, that’s generous but I can’t let her do that. She’s with me or she has to go back to the holding cell.”

  Mama Jo gave him a quizzical look. “Boy, this is Cassi we’re talking about. She isn’t no criminal and you know that. Stop treating her like one. It’s bad enough she’s got that fool anklet on. She doesn’t need you acting like her warden.”

  Laughter danced in Cassi’s eyes and if he hadn’t felt like he’d been reduced to a teenager by Mama Jo’s scolding tone he might’ve chuckled at her defense of “poor Cassi.”

  “Mama, it’s not that simple. She’s in my custody. My job is on the line and I can’t take the risk that she’ll bail in the middle of the night.”

  At that, the mirth faded from Cassi’s eyes and she looked away, plainly hurt by his admission that she was basically untrustworthy. A flash of guilt made him defensive. What did she expect? There were major issues they had to deal with and while she may be innocent of some things, she was certainly guilty of others. But he could tell by the compression of Mama Jo’s lips that she was displeased with his statement. He shifted under that disapproving stare but before he could try to explain, Cassi rose and excused herself to the bathroom. He rose automatically and Cassi stopped him with a cutting stare. “I know the way and if I recall, the bathroom window is too small for me to fit through,” she snapped, and then left him feeling like an ass.

  He fell into his chair with a heavy sigh. “Why am I the bad guy here?” he muttered to no one in particular. Then he turned to Mama Jo. “She escaped through a bathroom window the first time I tried to capture her. So it’s not far-fetched…” he started mulishly, but Mama Jo just shook her head, disappointment in her eyes.

  “You’ve loved that woman all your life,” she stated. “And the way you’re treating her is beneath you.”

  “I’m not the one who broke the law,” he stated, matter-of-fact.

  She nodded. “Yes, she admits to making some mistakes but I’d like to know how well you’d handle having your life tipped upside down without a soul to care if you lived or died.”

  He met Mama’s gaze. “I have. Remember?”

  She disagreed. “No. You had me. Cassi was kicked out of the nest without so much as a penny to her name by a man who she believes killed her mother. And the one person she should’ve been able to turn to has treated her like a criminal. Shame on you, Thomas. I thought I raised you better than that.”

  “Mama—”

  “Don’t Mama me. I know what’s going on here and it doesn’t take a genius to see it. You’re punishing her for something that happened long ago when you were both too young to know what matters in life.”

  “That’s not true,” he protested but there was something in the back of his mind that contradicted his words and he was afraid to look at it too closely for fear that it might be real. “She turned into a different person. You don’t know who she is now.”

  Mama Jo disagreed. “No, Thomas. I don’t know who you are right now.”

  “What was I supposed to
do?” he demanded, his tone raising a faint eyebrow in the face he’d come to associate with love and acceptance. The fact that he was getting a verbal ass-whoopin’ at his age was rubbing him wrong. Even if he deserved it. “Wasn’t it better that it was me? I could’ve handed the case off to someone else and right now she’d be facing charges for crimes she didn’t commit. But I didn’t walk away like I should’ve.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you,” she stated, withdrawing and tucking a warm wool lap blanket around her birdlike legs. “If you believe you treated her with the kindness deserved of your friendship, I have nothing more to say about it. But I will add this…you’re not dragging her from here to creation like some kind of rag doll. You can take the couch and she’ll sleep in your room. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

  Thomas bit back a few swear words. There was no arguing with her when she dug her heels in like this. And while he appreciated that she was doing what she thought was right for Cassi…the selfish part of him was angry that Mama Jo had taken her side.

  And there was the other part of him—an unmentionable part—that was more than disappointed that he’d be taking the couch, far away from the perfect fit of Cassi’s body against his. Although, as mad as Cassi was at him, he suspected the only touch he’d get from her at this point would inflict sharp pain on his groin.

  “Fine,” he ground out. “But if she sneaks out in the middle of the night, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Don’t be such a bear,” she chastised him, adding as another thought came to her. “Oh, goodness, I nearly forgot—that Lionel Vissher character came to visit, looking for Cassi a few weeks ago. I didn’t trust him. He seemed like a snake oil salesman to me.”