“Use your words, Andrew,” she snapped. Cassie also snapped a paper towel from the roll, dampened it and pressed it to her eyes.
“I don’t need words because these pictures are worth a thousand of them.” And Andrew slapped something on the table. Perhaps something he’d taken from his pocket, but with her having to blink ten times per second, it was hard to tell.
Hard to see what’d gotten him so riled up, too.
Hard to see, period.
Cassie went closer, blinking even more to get her eyes to focus, and she finally saw the photo clearly. At first she wasn’t sure what she was actually looking at, and it took her a moment to realize it was Mackenzie and Brody. Kissing in the barn.
Sheez, Louise.
The photo was indeed worth a thousand words, and the word at the top of that list was grounded.
Since it was obviously dark in the picture, this meant Mackenzie had no doubt sneaked out to meet Brody. Cassie wasn’t sure when the girl had done that, but she hadn’t had eyes on her 24/7, mainly because Mackenzie had been so happy lately. Well, if happiness was graded on the Mackenzie scale anyway.
But that was only part of the problem Cassie had with the unauthorized smooching. It was the fact that there was a picture of it. A picture that Mackenzie and Brody clearly hadn’t taken because they’d been too busy exploring each other’s tonsils.
“Who took that picture?” Cassie demanded.
“The same person who took this one.” Andrew reached into his jacket pocket and extracted another photo.
Not of Mackenzie and Brody this time. Of Lucky and that sleazy woman, Angel, who’d French-kissed him on the porch. Even though Cassie knew nothing had come of it, that Lucky had quickly gotten rid of her, the photo made it look as if they were making out in public.
“Who took these?” she repeated.
Andrew didn’t answer that time, either, but he did pull out a third picture. Another one that had been taken in the barn. It was a shot of Lucky and her. Snapped on the day that she was now referring to as the great chaps lapse.
Oh, mercy.
Lucky and she were doing some smooching, too. And he had his hand on her butt while leading her up the ladder to the hayloft.
Cassie groaned, but what she wanted to do was scream her head off. She hadn’t caught even a glimpse of anyone taking their picture. Of course, that had been the last thing on her mind. What she’d been focused on was getting that orgasm from Lucky. Besides, the photo of Lucky and her appeared to have been taken with a long-range lens. Ditto for the one of Lucky and Angel. So it was possible that the photographer hadn’t even come onto the ranch.
She couldn’t say the same for the one of Brody and Mackenzie, though. That one had been taken up close and at night. There was no way they wouldn’t have known about it.
Cassie’s stomach knotted into a giant ball, and it was churning as if a basketball point guard were dribbling it. That didn’t help her breathing, either, and her heart was thudding in her ears.
Breathe.
She refused to have a panic attack. Cassie tried to put this in perspective. No one was dead or even hurt. Yes, she’d screwed up again, but the damage wasn’t anything like it’d been with Hannah.
She hoped.
“What’s going on?” Mackenzie asked.
Cassie hadn’t heard her, but the girl was right there in the kitchen, and her attention landed on the photos.
“Oh, God.” Mackenzie’s hand went flying to her mouth. She shook her head. “Who took that picture?”
That was a really good question, but it wasn’t nearly as good as the one Cassie had for her. “What were you doing kissing Brody in the barn?”
And apparently Andrew thought he had the best question of all. “What were you doing kissing Lucky in the barn?” he asked Cassie.
Since Cassie didn’t have anything near a good answer, she repeated Mackenzie’s question. “Who took those pictures?”
“Theo Kervin, the reporter who’s been sniffing around town for a story,” Andrew said, but his huff and glare let her know that his question was still on the table—literally. That was where the picture of Lucky and her kissing still rested.
“Why would some stupid reporter take a picture of me?” Mackenzie asked.
Maybe it was that her eyes were still burning, or because she still had that headache, but it took Cassie several seconds to piece it together. “This Theo Kervin wants to paint me in a bad light because it’ll hurt my reputation as a celebrity therapist. It’ll be news.”
“Bingo,” Andrew confirmed. “I don’t know all the details of what will be in the article in the Friday paper, but I know he’s mentioning me as your spurned lover. It’ll make me look like a fool.”
“Ex-lover,” Cassie corrected, though that was splitting hairs. She knew how tabloid journalism worked, and “ex-lover” wouldn’t be nearly as tawdry as having her step out on a distinguished psychologist so she could make out with a cowboy.
All the while she was supposed to be parenting two children in her custody.
All the while one of those girls was making out with a wannabe cowboy.
If Theo had found out about Sweet Meadows, then he could seal the career-ruining deal by just mentioning it. And yes, that would hurt Andrew, too, because it would make it seem as if his lover was a sex-crazed lunatic with no regard whatsoever for the children.
Breathe.
The reminder wasn’t working so Cassie put her head between her knees again. And that’s how Lucky found her when he walked into the kitchen.
* * *
LUCKY HURRIED OVER to Cassie, lifting her head so he could see what was wrong. He saw her red eyes and whirled around to beat the shit out of Andrew for whatever he’d done to make her cry.
But then his attention landed on the photos.
Oh, man.
It felt as if someone had sucker punched him, and he instantly knew. Andrew wasn’t the reason for Cassie’s tears. He was.
“Theo Kervin took those?” Lucky asked Andrew. “Or did you?” While he was in the Q & A mode, his gaze shot to Mackenzie. “And what the hell were you doing kissing Brody?”
“Uh, kissing him,” Mackenzie answered.
No smart-assery in her tone this time. She gave him a truthful answer that in no way answered his question. But Lucky would deal with her later. For now, he needed to stop Cassie from having a panic attack. However, when Cassie lifted her head again, she didn’t seem to be in panic mode but rather anger mode.
“I’m going to sue Theo Kervin,” she insisted.
“They’ll be in the morning papers,” Andrew added. “Including the local one here. I tried to stop it, tried to pay off the idiot, but he wouldn’t take it.”
Maybe because someone had already paid him—like Mason-Dixon. Of course, Cassie’s father was more the type to extort money than to pay it, but if he’d wanted to burn Cassie and Lucky for the cats, then this would have been the way to do it. It wouldn’t hurt Lucky’s reputation. In fact, it would confirm what most people thought about him anyway, but it would hurt Cassie. Would hurt Mackenzie, too.
First things first, though.
“You’re grounded,” Lucky told Mackenzie. “I let the money thing slide with just an apology, but this isn’t sliding.”
“Grounded?” she howled as if she’d just been sentenced to be pecked to death by rabid ducks. “This isn’t fair.”
“Probably not, but you’re not allowed to sneak out of the house and make out with boys. I’m just funny that way.”
Mackenzie flung her hand toward the other pictures. “You made out with Cassie and that skank.”
“Not to the skank. To Angel,” he corrected. “Yeah, to Cassie. But Cassie and I are adults.” Though it hadn’t felt like it that day. Lucky could have swo
rn he’d felt a few raging teenage hormones himself when he’d been with Cassie.
Mackenzie huffed and puffed a few seconds while she stared at Cassie, apparently waiting for a second opinion on the grounding verdict. But Cassie just shook her head. “You’re grounded. We’ll talk later.”
After more huffing and puffing, Mackenzie spun around to leave. Lucky followed her a few steps to make sure she was actually going upstairs rather than heading out the front door. She not only went upstairs, he heard her slam her bedroom door.
Good.
Slamming was preferable to running. Heck, he might slam a door or two himself before this day was over.
“What can I do to fix this?” Lucky asked Cassie.
But she didn’t give him a good answer. She only shook her head.
“You can’t fix this,” Andrew insisted. Not a good answer, either. “If you’re the one who talked Cassie into giving up being a celebrity therapist, then the timing couldn’t have been worse. There’s no way she’ll be able to build a new client base once this story gets out. Plus, how do you think the girls’ aunt will react?”
Probably not well. Heck, Alice might get on the next plane to whisk the girls away. Of course, Alice’s whisking was only days away anyway, but Lucky didn’t want things to end like this. And speaking of whisking things away, that’s what Andrew did to the photos. He stuffed them in his jacket pocket and looked at Cassie. “I’ll be leaving for the airport in a few hours. If you have anything to say to me, then I suggest you say it now.”
Lucky wasn’t sure exactly what Andrew wanted to hear Cassie say. Did he want her to beg him to forgive her and stay? Did he want a goodbye? Cassie didn’t give him either of those, though. She just sat there staring at the now empty spot on the table where the photos had been.
“Fine,” Andrew snapped, and he hurried to the door.
And yep, he slammed it on his way out.
* * *
LUCKY STOOD IN the shower and let the scalding-hot water do its job. Not with the cleaning part. He could have accomplished that with a much cooler temperature. What he needed was some of the muscles unknotted in his back and shoulders.
The house was essentially on lockdown. Lucky wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do or not, especially since he’d have to leave in a couple of hours for Riley’s bachelor party. He’d considered skipping it, but Della, Stella and Cassie had all assured him they’d keep an eye on Mackenzie.
That might not be enough, though.
But Lucky kept going back to bull logic. Some bulls were just harder to fence than others, and a few were downright impossible. They’d break fences no matter how strong. It was a bad analogy, but there might not be a fence tall or strong enough to keep Mackenzie from sneaking back out again.
Lucky gave up on getting relief from the shower. He toweled off, pulled on his boxers and jeans and headed back into his bedroom to get a clean shirt. And he stopped in his tracks.
Because Cassie was sitting on his bed.
Her eyes weren’t red as they’d been in the kitchen, but she wasn’t exactly sporting a sunshiny smile, either.
“Is Mackenzie all right?” he asked.
“She’s still in her room. Mia’s with Della, and the ranch hands are watching to make sure Mackenzie doesn’t sneak out again.”
Since that was about as good as they could expect right now, it didn’t explain Cassie’s “somebody died” expression.
Hell, unless somebody had died.
After all, that lunatic client had flown in the day before for another session. Had Marla done something? Or had Andrew? Lucky figured the guy was far too egotistical to end his life, but maybe he’d said or done something to hurt Cassie. Or to get back together with her. She hadn’t gone running out of the house after Andrew, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t called him afterward.
“Are you all right?” Lucky asked, sitting down on the bed next to her.
Cassie gave a little laugh, definitely not from humor. “I’m fine. I’m worried about you, though.”
“Me?” Lucky wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “I’m not the one who’ll lose clients or have my reputation ruined. Heck, I’ll probably get some calls for dates after the story runs and they see me with both Angel and you.”
He’d meant that as a joke, but Cassie must have thought he was serious because it put that troubled look back on her face. Then he noticed what she had in her left hand.
The letter.
She unfolded it for him to see. Lucky glanced through it, the PS snagging his attention right off, and he groaned.
PS. Try to make Lucky understand that his parents’ deaths weren’t his fault.
“Dixie Mae had no right,” he snarled.
Cassie nodded. “And I suspect she had no right to give you a PS about me. Let me guess—she told you to make sure I understood that Hannah’s death wasn’t my fault?”
Since that was almost verbatim, Lucky just nodded. He was about to say Dixie Mae had no right to say that about Cassie, either, that it wasn’t Dixie Mae’s place. But hell, it sure felt like it was his place to try to help Cassie.
Without her trying to help him, of course.
Lucky frowned. He didn’t want to be fixed. Didn’t deserve it.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Cassie said.
His mind, and body, immediately started to fill in the blanks, but he didn’t think his dick was a blank in this. No, this wasn’t something nearly as much fun.
“I’ll start,” she said, though he’d given her no encouragement whatsoever to do that. “I can’t forgive myself for what happened to Hannah because I don’t feel as if I deserve forgiveness.”
Well, now. Since that, too, was almost verbatim what Lucky had been thinking, he had to wonder if Dixie Mae was somewhere in the spiritual realm making all of this happen. It didn’t matter. Lucky still didn’t want to play this game.
“I figure I deserve the panic attacks, too. Deserve my inability to commit because I haven’t gotten past the baggage my parents left me.” She paused. “And I have trouble having orgasms.”
Lucky had tried to anticipate what she was going to say. That last one hadn’t been anywhere on his list, and it didn’t fit with the other things. Or maybe it did. Did she truly feel she didn’t deserve orgasms?
“Really? Because you seemed to be doing okay with that up in the hayloft,” he reminded her.
“I know. But that was a fluke. At least, I think it was.”
And then Cassie did something else that would have knocked his socks off, had he been wearing any.
She kissed him.
Cassie took hold of him, dragged him to her and kissed him. Again, it didn’t go with the first part of the conversation, but it certainly went with the second because it seemed as if Cassie was in search of that orgasm—right here, right now.
Lucky felt the kiss all right. Not just in the usual places, either. This was a head-to-toenails sort of sensation as if every bit of him had managed to toss back some shots of hundred-proof. It was an especially good feeling since he was already half-naked, and Cassie and he were on the bed.
So Lucky kissed her right back.
He kept on kissing her until she did something else surprising. Cassie moved away from him and stood.
“I just wanted to give you something to think about,” she said as if that explained everything.
And Cassie walked out, leaving him there with that warm head-to-toe feeling and a raging hard-on.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CASSIE WENT TO the window and checked again. No sign of Lucky. Of course, it was barely 10:00 p.m., and it was possible Riley’s bachelor party would go into the wee hours of the morning. Still, she was hoping he would get home early just so she could explain herself.
Kissing him like that had been a bold move. Sort of throwing down the F-word gauntlet. And he would have known that, too. She wasn’t a tease, and there was only one reason for her to kiss a man like that.
Because she wanted to F-word him.
Now that the fire in her body had cooled just a bit, she was feeling all the nerves beneath her skin. That was why she wanted to talk to him. Or preferably have sex with him. Sex wouldn’t help with the PS from Dixie Mae’s letter, but Cassie was reasonably sure it wouldn’t hurt.
The knock at her door sent her racing to open it, and she tried not to look disappointed to see Mackenzie standing there. Because Cassie really wasn’t disappointed. She’d tried to talk to Mackenzie several times since Andrew’s photo bombshell, and the girl had clammed up. However, Mackenzie certainly looked ready to talk now.
“Mia’s asleep,” she said right off. “Can I come in for a minute?”
“Of course.” Cassie ushered her in and shut the door.
“I’m sorry,” Mackenzie said before she even sat down on the bed. It not only sounded genuine, it looked as if she’d been crying. There were some visible streaks in her makeup. “I didn’t mean to mess up anything for you and your job. I just wanted to see Brody.”
Considering Cassie was fighting her own hormonal impulses, she totally understood.
“I’m really sorry,” Mackenzie added, and yes, there were tears now. Unlike her apology to Wilhelmina, it sounded as if the girl meant it.
Sighing, Cassie sat down beside her and slipped an arm around her. This time, Mackenzie didn’t go stiff as she usually did when Cassie touched her. She actually leaned against Cassie.
“I just thought Brody wouldn’t like me if I said no,” she went on. “That’s why I went to the barn. I didn’t know he was going to kiss me, honest.”
Cassie got that, as well. Of course, from the moment she’d seen Lucky walking toward her in the barn that day, she’d pretty much figured a kiss or something more would happen between them. But she was an adult, and she’d known the consequences of her actions. Her limits, too. Maybe Mackenzie didn’t.
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