by Marin Thomas
It’s just a hug.
Hell, they both needed a hug. The song’s lyrics faded into the background until all he heard and felt was Cassidy humming to the music and their bodies rubbing against each other.
One song faded into another and another. Then Cassidy gazed into his eyes. Kiss her. Unable to stop himself he lowered his head an inch at a time.
Right or wrong he needed this kiss. Her sigh of surrender when his lips touched hers filled his soul. She tasted of tangy barbecue and a sweetness all her own. The warmth spreading through Logan’s chest had nothing to do with the hardness growing between his thighs.
Her arms tightened around his neck and he surrendered to her embrace.
Cassidy was his haven. His refuge.
Cassidy was trouble with a capital T.
Chapter Five
At eleven-thirty on Saturday Cassidy took her first break of the morning. The two weeks leading up to Christmas were among the busiest of the year. She cut, curled, bleached and colored hair from sunup to sundown. After making her mother a sandwich, Cassidy microwaved the take-out order of ribs that Logan had insisted on buying for her yesterday before they’d left Hog Heaven. She closed her eyes and savored the tangy barbecue flavor while the George Strait tune she and Logan had danced to played over and over in her mind.
Recalling how tenderly Logan had held her in his arms and how intimate their kiss had been made her yearn to believe his feelings for her were deepening, but she suspected his concern was born from a sense of responsibility toward her and the baby. A baby he supposedly wanted nothing to do with.
She’d meant what she’d said the day she’d advised him of her pregnancy—she and the baby didn’t need him. She was nothing if not her mother’s daughter. Cassidy wasn’t afraid to take care of herself or support the baby—but had she spoken too hastily?
All these years she and her mother had survived without Cassidy’s father. How different their lives might have been had her father hung around. A child deserved two parents. She had to make Logan see that their son needed more than a support check—he needed a father’s attention. Love. Guidance.
And what about you, Cassidy? What do you need from Logan?
Her feelings for Logan were a jumbled mess. She cared about him—what woman in her right mind wouldn’t be sympathetic toward a man who’d lost his wife and child? The fact that he refused to move on with his life angered Cassidy.
That’s because you’re falling in love with him.
Thinking about Logan frustrated her so she focused on eating, then cleaned up the kitchen and returned to the shed in time to give the next customer a perm.
“Cassidy—” Sara Kramer got out of her car. “Your yard is looking quite festive.”
“The snowman is new,” Cassidy said.
“I don’t remember seeing the igloo last year.”
Igloo? “What igloo?”
Sara motioned behind her. “The igloo on the other side of the trailer.”
Cassidy hadn’t bothered flipping the blinds this morning before she’d opened her hair salon for business. “Hmm…Make yourself comfortable.” She strolled around to the front of the trailer, then stopped and stared. “Wow.” A huge blow-up igloo sat in the yard, an extension cord leading to Betty and Alice’s trailer.
“Isn’t it cute,” Betty said from her porch.
Cassidy liked the little penguins guarding the entrance. “Where did you and Alice buy this?”
“We didn’t.”
Logan again?
“Woke up around midnight and heard someone making a racket outside,” Betty said.
Cassidy hadn’t heard a thing.
“We gave Logan permission to plug the cord into our trailer.” Alice joined the group.
Tears stung Cassidy’s eyes, but she braved a smile. Ah, Logan. What are you trying to tell me?
“You shouldn’t keep the igloo plugged in all day. I hate to see your electric bill increase,” Cassidy said. Before her neighbors asked too many questions…“Gotta run.”
“Will you be at the Sanders’ hoedown tonight?” Sara asked when Cassidy entered the shed.
Good Lord, how had she forgotten Junket’s annual Christmas barn dance? “No, I plan to stay home and relax.” Last year’s party had been a disaster because Bethany had died the afternoon of the dance.
Two hours flew by and Cassidy finished Sara’s perm, then sent her on her way. Left alone with her thoughts she worried how Logan intended to pass the anniversary of his wife’s death. An image of him sitting alone at home or in a bar popped into her mind. She hurried inside and phoned his ranch. The answering machine clicked on.
“Logan. It’s me, Cassidy.” Pause. “I saw the igloo.” Pause. “It’s really big.” She chuckled. “The inflatable penguins are cute.”
Then she sucked in a steadying breath. “Why don’t you come over tonight? We’ll watch a movie or play cards.” Fearing she’d bungled the invitation, she said goodbye and hung up.
The last client of the day left at five. Cassidy cleaned the shed, locked the doors, then plugged in the Christmas lights and waited for the phone to ring.
Logan’s not going to call.
With a heavy heart she made supper, threw a load of clothes in the washing machine and watched TV. At eight Cassidy settled her mother in bed for the night with a stack of magazines and her favorite hand cream, then stepped outside and stared at the igloo.
What are you doing, Logan? Where are you?
“Cassidy. Is everything all right?” Alice’s voice drifted through the dark.
“I was thinking of Logan. Today’s the one-year anniversary of his wife’s death.”
“Oh, my. That’s right.” Alice placed her palm against her heart. “Why don’t you go check on him, dear? He shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“Mom’s already in bed.”
“Betty and I will be right over.”
Grateful for the chance to see Logan, Cassidy changed into a turquoise sweat suit, brushed her teeth, dabbed on a touch of makeup and pulled her hair into a ponytail before driving off.
Fifteen minutes later her heart sank as she parked next to Logan’s truck in front of the dark ranch house. A growl greeted her ears when she climbed the porch steps. Twister lay near the swing.
“Quiet.” She stamped her foot as she’d seen Logan do and the snarling stopped. Cassidy knocked twice. Waited. Knocked again. She turned the knob and the door swung open.
“Logan?” She paused in the entryway while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Logan, are you home?”
The sound of a bottle being opened drifted down the hallway. Please don’t let him be drinking.
She crept down the hall, then felt along the kitchen wall for the light.
“Go away, Cassidy.”
Her fingers flipped the switch.
Logan sat at the kitchen table hunched over a bottle of…root beer.
He looked so lost sitting alone at the table.
“I don’t want company,” he mumbled. “Especially yours.”
She felt his pain down to her soul and wanted to help—but how? She sniffed.
His head jerked around. “Don’t.”
She marched across the room to the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care.” He would not bully her into leaving. She removed a package of lunch meat, stale sandwich rolls, sliced cheese and ranch dressing.
“Cassidy, I’m not in a good mood.” His words wobbled with emotion.
“I knew that before I drove over.” She buttered the bread, then placed the slices into the toaster oven at the end of the counter. The timer dinged a minute later. She set the sandwich on the table, then pulled out a chair and sat.
He stared at the food. “I almost forgot about Bethany’s accident today.” His quiet admission exploded through the room.
“It’s okay, Logan.” She sque
ezed his fingers.
As if her touch scorched his skin he hissed and yanked his hand free. “A husband doesn’t almost forget the day his wife and unborn child died.” The words were punctuated with an icy glare. After a tense stare-down he broke eye contact and muttered a four-letter word.
Her presence agitated Logan more than helped, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave him in this condition. She jumped up from her seat, grabbed the rag in the sink and scrubbed at an imaginary stain on the counter.
“You know what?” he said.
Bracing herself, she faced him. “What?”
“This is your fault.”
Her fault?
He pointed his finger at her. “You’re the reason I’m in such a funk.”
Before she realized his intent, Logan left the table and clamped his hand around her arm. He tilted her chin until their mouths almost touched.
“I forgot why today was so important because you’re stuck in my head. Since the minute I got out of bed this morning all I’ve thought about was kissing you. Dancing with you. Holding you.” His lips brushed against hers. “I can’t get you out of my head.” Then his mouth crushed hers, his tongue demanding entrance. Forget sweet and romantic. The kiss was desperate and punishing.
Then the kiss turned apologetic—his lips softened, cajoled, and his tongue toyed with hers, teasing. Cassidy lost herself in Logan’s embrace, desperately trying to ignore the voice in her head reminding her that his attraction to her was tangled in a strong desire to keep her and the baby safe. As long as she understood the fire she ignited in him had nothing to do with tender feelings for her, she could protect herself from heartbreak.
Oh, Logan. She sighed, unable to stop her fingers from sifting through his hair. One strong hand caressed the nape of her neck while the other slid over her hip to cup her bottom, pressing her gently against his arousal. He massaged her sensitive breast, thumbing the nipple until it ached. His hand left her fanny and slipped beneath the hem of her jacket, brushing her slightly rounded tummy.
His body turned to stone. Not even a breath escaped his mouth. The warmth in his brown eyes cooled. He released her and retreated across the room. “I can’t do this.” His chest heaved when he sucked in a gulp of air. “Leave, Cassidy.” It wasn’t a request but an order.
Lord, how she wished she was enough to ease his pain, but no matter what she said or did, nothing would bring his wife and child back to life. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“Leave. Please.”
Cassidy hesitated. What if Logan lost himself too deeply in grief that he’d never found his way to being a father?
“If you don’t leave, I will,” he threatened.
His solemn ultimatum propelled her from the room, down the hall and out the front door.
TWO HOURS AFTER Cassidy left the house, Logan lay in bed, staring at the water stain on the ceiling. The numbers on the nightstand clock flipped to 11:00. A cool breeze fluttered the bedroom curtains.
Cassidy. Cassidy. Cassidy.
Why had he sent her away? When he’d held her and kissed her he’d felt forgiven. Exonerated. The past forgotten. The future nowhere in sight. But the future stared him in the eye and he needed to focus on the important stuff—keeping Cassidy and the baby safe.
Night after night since Cassidy had informed him about the baby he’d woken from sleep drenched in sweat, gasping for breath—Bethany’s car crash vivid in his mind. Each nightmare was the same—he’d run to the mangled vehicle only to discover Cassidy’s bloody body crumpled in the front seat. There would be no sleep tonight until he apologized for his Neanderthal behavior and made sure she was okay.
Twenty minutes later Logan pulled into the Shady Acres park and eased the truck over the first speed bump. He slowed to a stop in front of Cassidy’s trailer and stared in shock at the chaos unfolding before him.
Cassidy’s mother wandered around the yard in her pajamas pulling the Christmas lights down and trampling the decorations. The igloo lay on its side, two penguins deflated. The candy canes had been scattered across the lawn and Rudolph was missing his blinking red nose.
Logan hopped out of the truck and scanned the side yard—no sign of Cassidy, but at least her mother hadn’t wrecked that part of the yard. Either the older woman was sleepwalking or had left the house without Cassidy knowing. He stopped at the edge of the walkway and listened to her ramble.
“Who did this?” She tugged on the lights Logan had wrapped around the porch rails. Losing interest in the now sagging strands, she focused on the potted poinsettia at the bottom of the porch steps. “I don’t like flowers.” She kicked over the pot, spilling dirt on the sidewalk.
“Hey, Sonja. What are you doing?” Logan asked quietly, hoping not to startle her.
She jumped, then scowled. “Who are you?”
“Logan Taylor. Cassidy’s friend.”
“Did you put this junk in my yard?”
“No, ma’am. Cassidy did. She likes to decorate for Christmas.”
Sonja frowned. “I need to put these away.”
Good God, how did Cassidy deal with a situation like this? He glanced at the trailer but the windows remained dark. “Why don’t I help? You sit and rest.” He led her to the porch steps. Her skin felt cold to the touch, so he removed his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Once he was certain she’d remain seated, he went to work repairing the damage while keeping a conversation going in hopes that Sonja would forget about the decorations.
“Did you like your job at the fertilizer factory, Sonja?” He didn’t know anything personal about the woman other than where she’d worked most of her life and that she’d never married Cassidy’s father.
“I hated the smell.” She pointed to the igloo. “Did you put that thing in my yard?”
“Yep.”
“It’s ugly.”
If he didn’t change Sonja’s mind about the decorations she might come out tomorrow night and do more damage. She’s got Alzheimer’s, idiot. She won’t remember any of this.
“Hey, Sonja. I like those candy canes you bought at the store the other day.” He held his breath hoping her mind would play along.
“What candy canes?” She searched the yard, her gaze passing over the broken canes.
“Right here.” He bent down and examined the two halves of one cane. Restringing the lights tighter might hold the pieces together.
“I bought those?” Sonja asked.
“You said Cassidy would like them.” He felt foolish for lying and for treating the older woman like a child. He couldn’t imagine having to speak to his mother this way.
“Cassidy likes those?”
“She sure does.”
“Then why did you break them?”
He swallowed a groan. “I, uh, tripped.”
“You better fix them or Cassidy’s going to cry.” Sonja’s voice wobbled and she wrung her hands.
Great. Now he’d upset the poor woman. Right then the trailer door opened. “Mom? Are you—” a gasp echoed through the night air as Cassidy surveyed the wreckage.
“I’ll fix it all, Cassidy. You don’t have to worry about—”
“Logan?” Cassidy noticed him for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to apologize for—” he glanced at her mother. “And to make sure you were okay.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You were pretty upset when you left my place.”
Ignoring her mother’s “I don’t know how this happened,” Cassidy descended the porch steps.
In a trance she wandered around the yard. She picked up Rudolph’s nose and her shoulders slumped. At the sight of her dejected silhouette the immensity of Cassidy’s situation sunk into Logan.
He pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. “It’s going to be all right, honey.”
Her cold lips brushed his neck.
“It’s chilly and your mom’s been out here for a while. Why don’t you help her to bed. Tomorrow morning the yard will be
good as new. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Feet dragging in the grass as if each step took effort she approached her mother, then held out her hand. “Let’s go back to bed, Mom.”
“I’m tired, Cassidy.”
“Me, too, Mom.”
The door closed and Logan swallowed the knot in his throat. Caring for her mother was taking a toll on Cassidy. He was embarrassed and ashamed that earlier tonight he’d added to her burdens. Standing in the middle of Santa’s playland, Logan came to the realization that he could no longer remain uninvolved in Cassidy’s life. Whether he liked it or not, whether she wanted it or not, he intended to carry some of the burden before Cassidy wore herself out.
“THAT SHOULD DO IT.” Logan shoved the screw driver into his tool belt.
He’d dropped by Cassidy’s to install bells on both the front and back doors. He’d suggested the measure so that if her mother woke in the middle of the night and tried to leave the trailer the bell would ring and wake Cassidy.
“Thanks. This was a good idea.” She hated admitting she needed help. She’d been positive she could handle her mother, cut hair and raise a child. Last night her mother had proved her wrong. She glanced at the clock. Almost suppertime. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m good. Why don’t you take a quick nap while I fix the faucet.” He nodded to the water dripping from the spigot in the kitchen sink.
Maybe dinner could wait a half hour. “If you’re sure…” She glanced at the doorway leading to the family room.
“Don’t worry. Your mom will be fine with me.”
“Wake me if she becomes difficult.” Cassidy drifted to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The tantalizing smell of garlic and warm bread dough woke her at seven-thirty. Seven-thirty! She rolled off the bed, used the bathroom and hurried into the kitchen.
There sat her mother and Logan eating pizza. His eyes softened when they landed on her and she self-consciously smoothed a hand over her messy hair.
“Just in time.” Logan rose from his seat, pulled out a chair for Cassidy, then went to the cupboard and removed a glass. “Water or milk?”
