by Cate Cameron
She slapped him, hard enough to set his ear ringing and his cheek burning. No words, just a fierce, unapologetic glare.
His laugh was an angry bark. “I’m sorry, does that get in the way of your plans? Who’s worried about convenience now? I didn’t plan it, and damn it, I don’t want it, but that doesn’t seem to matter. I love you, and—”
This time he saw the blow coming and caught her wrist. She squirmed, brought her other hand up, and he caught it, too. “I love you,” he told her. Now that he’d said the words once, he wanted to keep saying them, wanted to whisper them and yell them and tell the whole world. But all of that was a bit difficult when the object of his affection apparently wanted to beat the shit out of him.
“Let me go,” she growled.
“Will you hit me again?”
“If you don’t let me go, I’m going to start kicking, and I think we both know what my first target will be.”
He let her go, and they stared at each other a little longer. Eventually he said, “I know it’s my problem. My feelings. If you don’t love me back, that’s something I need to deal with. But don’t tell me how I feel about you.”
This time, the attack was even quicker than before, but the approach was different. Instead of slapping his cheek, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him toward her, and met his lips with a kiss that was almost a bite. He surged forward, clutching at her just as desperately as she was grabbing at him. All of their frustration, their anger, their lust, and, at least in his case, his love, it all washed over them, blurring everything rational from their minds. Will felt the buttons on his shirt give way under her assault and slid his hands under her shirt then up, over her ribs, her breasts, until her shirt was over her head. Her arms were still trapped in the fabric, and for a moment he tried to free them, but then he stopped and twisted the fabric tighter.
“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he whispered, and then he spun her around and grabbed the extra fabric, knotting it so her hands were tied tight. She didn’t tell him to stop.
He pressed up against her ass while reaching around and grappling with the fly of her jeans. He wanted her naked, wanted her moaning, wanted to make her feel, damn it. “I love you,” he growled into her neck, and he heard frustration in her answering groan but maybe, just maybe, something else.
He pushed her away long enough to drag her jeans and panties to the floor, and he pulled off just one of her shoes, freeing that leg but leaving the other at least partially hobbled with bagged-up pants. Maybe he was trying to keep her from running away, or maybe he was just too damn impatient to get back to the good stuff.
He rose slowly, letting his face skim along her legs, her ass, her back. He wanted to spend the rest of his life exploring every inch of this woman’s body, finding every single way to make her feel good. But he couldn’t think about that right then. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by the future, not when he should be focusing on the present, trying to wring every ounce of enjoyment out of it for both of them.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, or maybe suggested. He could have his interpretation, and surely she’d have hers. Whatever her verdict, she followed the instruction, and he wrapped one hand around her to find a pert nipple while the other slid over her belly, then lower. Damn, she was already so wet, and when he pinched her clit between two fingers her whole body jerked like she’d been electrified.
He should be drawing this out, savoring every moment, making love to his woman. But she thrust her ass back toward him and made a high, almost musical sound, and any self-control he’d had left was destroyed. He managed to find the condom he’d stashed in his pocket in an earlier moment of optimism, fumbled one-handed with it and then with getting rid of his pants, and swore a little. Cassidy turned her head to see what was going on, and he took the opportunity to kiss her. Her sweet mouth, her hot tongue—he was supposed to walk away from her? Supposed to pretend he didn’t care? It was impossible to even consider it.
He got the condom sorted out and slid inside her warmth. He heard the change in her breathing, felt the demanding arch of her back. Her hands were still bound behind her, and he thought about freeing them, giving her something to brace herself with. But he couldn’t bear to give away his temporary power, his illusion of control, so he wrapped one arm around her, elbow at her ribs, forearm across her chest so he could wrap his fingers around her shoulder, and he moved.
He wanted to tell her the story of their future, the one they could have if she’d let them. Hard thrusts for the passion, smooth, tantalizing glides for the relaxed, happy times. His free hand roaming over her body for the variety, the adventures they’d share, the stories they’d be able to tell. And she moved with him, adding her own twists to their story. She had to understand, surely. When she turned to look over her shoulder and their lips found each other, she had to feel the love. She had to.
He felt her body tightening, and the invitation of her hips became a demand, one his body was only too happy to comply with. Faster, harder, driving them both. At some point he freed her hands, not because he couldn’t manage to hold her himself, but because of some vague, lust-addled thought about the importance of her being free. Also possibly because her bound hands had been between her back and his belly, and he wanted as much contact as possible.
Whatever the reason, when her breathing turned to whimpers and then to a low, choking cry, he was able to pull her tight, and as he let himself go, he felt her warmth, her softness, and her strength.
They slumped together, her leaning against the bookshelf, him leaning against her, and he decided he never had to move again. Why would he leave that place, that moment?
But Cassidy stirred, eventually, and he leaned back enough to give her space to turn around before he let himself lean on her again, joining her in a deep, easy kiss.
Which she also couldn’t just enjoy. Her hands came to his shoulders too soon, and she pushed him gently away, then leaned over and pulled her pants back up.
For a few moments, they both dressed without conversation. When she was put back together, she turned to him, and he stood waiting for her verdict.
“You’re a good guy, Will. You’re a good dad.”
“I’m really not sure why you’re thinking about that right at this moment.”
Her smile was there for a second, sweet and sad, and then it was gone. “I’ve got some work to do at the house, getting it ready to sell. I’ll move back there tomorrow so I can get stuff done. If it’s okay, I’ll set up payments with you for Casey. I can take the horses and the cats with me, unless Em wants the cats in the city with her. We can talk about that, I guess.”
No, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He’d said the words, he’d damn well meant the words, and she was carrying on as if that hadn’t happened. “What if Emily wants you to come with us?” he asked. “You said you’d stay if she asked you to.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but maybe it would have better results than an approach that centered on him.
But Cassidy just shook her head. “You honestly think she’s going to do that? You think she’d wreck my chances like that?”
Damn it. “What if I want you with us? Maybe Emily can get by without you, but that doesn’t mean I can!”
She turned toward the door, and he couldn’t see her face when she said, “You’ll be fine, once you’re back in the city. This will all seem like a weird dream you had.”
“No, it won’t.” He didn’t want to sound petulant, but he’d tried anger and that hadn’t done him any damn good. What emotions were left? “I love you, Cassidy.”
She didn’t even look at him, just shifted around and said, “You’ll get over it,” as she pulled the door open.
And then she was gone. He thought about chasing after her, but he had nothing more to say, no arguments to make he hadn’t made already. He spent the night in the den, trying to figure out his next step, and when he heard her moving around the next morning, he didn’t go talk to her. She�
�d made her decision clear; the only step left was trying to find a way to deal with the consequences.
Chapter Nineteen
It was surprisingly easy to pack up a life, at least one as limited as Cassidy’s. Emily had come to the diner after school on Monday and given Cassidy a big hug and apologized for being selfish. Her eyes were a little red, but she was already moving on, asking Cassidy a million questions about the horses and Roddy and the future. She wanted to know what kind of a place Cassidy was going to live in when she got to Texas, and whether it would be better to ask the cats to adapt to a city lifestyle or a slightly nomadic one until Cassidy settled down. “I guess we don’t have to decide right now,” Emily said breezily. “Will says he’s happy to have them in the city, so maybe I’ll keep them, and then if you want them, I can bring them out with me when I come for my first visit? Which is going to be really soon, right? Like, as soon as you get settled in!”
So that was taken care of.
The landlord at the diner had a nephew who was interested in taking over the business, and Cassidy ended up walking away from the place that had kept her working for more than a decade with a couple thousand dollars for the equipment and existing stock and no strings or commitments. It felt strange to cut free of the anchor, strange but mostly good. Frightening to think she wouldn’t have the place to keep her busy, though. She was going to need as many distractions as she could find if she wanted to keep her mind off losing Emily. Losing Will. Losing everything.
Emily decided that she’d like to take the bus with her friends for her last week at a Lyonstown school, so she and Cassidy moved back to the little house that had sheltered them for so many years. “It feels so small!” Emily exclaimed as she entered the front door, and Cassidy knew she’d done the right thing by pushing Emily out of the nest. This house was small, and shabby, and it hadn’t taken Emily long to get used to something better. Watching the girl leave their house behind was bittersweet; Cassidy was relieved she wouldn’t have to be there to see it when the girl did the same to her aunt.
Trevor appeared at the house on Wednesday morning, the first Wednesday Cassidy had spent at home since before Penny got sick. Emily was already at school. “I looked for you at the diner,” he said, standing on the porch as Cassidy stood in the doorway, trying to decide whether to let him in. “But things have obviously happened quickly there. It must feel good to be free of the place?”
She wanted to argue with him, but she couldn’t. “Why are you looking for me?”
“Will asked me to go over some paperwork, some arrangements for the future.”
“Will asked you to?” His lawyer. What the hell? Had she not already given the man everything? Why did he need a lawyer to take even more?
“He’s gone back to the city, and he felt it would be wise to make things as clear as possible, in terms of custody and financial settlements. So he asked me to come up and take care of it all.”
She tried not to calculate how much that would cost, at a thousand dollars an hour. “What is there to take care of?”
“An informal custody agreement is acceptable to my client,” Trevor said. “He doesn’t feel the need for court orders or formal declarations. But I’ve recommended that we get something on paper, just so everyone has the same understandings.”
It’s better this way, Cassidy told herself as she let him into the living room and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Better to deal with a lawyer than Will. It had been stupid, the way she’d been dreaming about him. Every time the door of the diner opened, she’d not only hoped but actually sort of expected it to be him. Her imagination didn’t get too far in terms of the details; it didn’t tell her why he’d come to find her after she’d pushed him away, didn’t explain how they could possibly hope to make things work. No, in her dreams, it was just the two of them, no outside circumstances or limitations at all. In her dreams, he said he loved her, and she was able to say it back.
But there were no lawyers in her dreams. She grabbed the coffee-filled mugs with one hand, the milk and sugar with the other, and headed back to the living room, where Trevor had a tidy stack of papers on the coffee table.
Some of the forms were pretty simple—a general sort of cover letter acknowledging Will’s paternity and shared custody, permission forms for him to get her medical records, school reports, and all the rest of the bureaucratic stuff. Trevor walked her through it all patiently, calmly, and she was almost able to forget how much this visit was costing Will. Then she got to the last bundle of papers, and stopped worrying about Trevor’s fees.
“This part makes sense,” she said. “We both agree that Emily will live with whichever of us she chooses, as long as the choice isn’t dangerous and doesn’t interfere with her schoolwork. We agree that we can consult with each other, and if we both agree, we can overrule Emily’s decisions.” She squinted at the page in front of her. “But does this really say I’d get twenty thousand dollars for every month or part month that Em lives with me? I mean, if Em comes down for a visit, would that count as her living with me? Will wants to give me twenty grand for that?”
“Standard child support,” Trevor said calmly. “The idea is to remove finances from the equation, so things are as equal as possible between your home and my client’s home. If Emily gets used to a certain way of life with my client, she should be able to expect a similar way of life with you.”
“And her way of life with Will is going to cost twenty thousand dollars a month?”
“We worked in an allowance for accommodations and other associated costs. In New York, Emily will be living in a luxury condo; she should be able to expect similar accommodations when she travels to visit you.”
“No.” Cassidy fought to control her reaction. “There’s no way I’m agreeing to this! He can…he can pay for her airfare. Maybe he can get her a credit card or something, so she can buy stuff if she wants to go shopping. But there’s no way he’s paying me money, not for looking after my own family. No damn way.”
Trevor was silent for a few moments, looking down at the paper in his hands. When he looked back up at her, his expensive glasses couldn’t hide the glint of humor in his eyes. “I’m not used to negotiating in this direction. Trying to convince people to take more money, rather than less? I don’t feel equipped.”
“Good. You should stop trying, then. Will’s—generous, I guess. Crazy’s maybe a better word. But you’re supposed to be looking after his interests, right? You’re supposed to be making sure he doesn’t get taken advantage of?”
Trevor was quiet again, then took his glasses right off and looked her in the eye. “You really care about him.” There was no question, and no real response that was any of this guy’s business, so Cassidy just sat and waited. “I’ve told you before; I understand some of what you’re feeling. It’s hard not to be overwhelmed by it all. Coming from modest beginnings and then getting dropped into their ridiculous lives, it’s—intense. I understand that. But are you confident you need to protect yourself quite as much as you are?”
“Protect myself? I thought we were talking about protecting Will, keeping him from throwing his money away.”
“Protecting yourself,” Trevor repeated. “From having to compromise, from being open to ridicule, or failure. It seems like you’re so scared about being vulnerable you’re turning down a lot of opportunities. A chance to stay with Emily and watch her blossom, a chance to be with Will, to—”
“No.” She stood up quickly, knocking some papers off the coffee table onto the floor. “You don’t know me. You don’t get to come in here and call me a coward, when you have no idea what I’m thinking or why I’m doing what I’m doing!”
“You love your niece,” he said, still sitting down, still calm. “You want to be with her. And I’ve seen you with Will, Cassidy, so don’t tell me you don’t care about him, too. You want to be with him. You’ve got two great reasons to go to the city, and you had to hunt to find a mediocre reason not to go. You’re hang
ing onto it with both arms because you’re afraid. You’d rather be a martyr than take a chance on love.”
“There’s nothing mediocre about working for one of the best trainers in the world. This is a huge chance, a chance to follow my dream. And Emily and Will are better off without me! It doesn’t matter if I love them. It matters if I’m good for them. Can I give them what they need?” She looked down at her sagging T-shirt, her chapped hands, her bargain-brand jeans. “I guess I could change all of this. It’s nothing I care about for myself, but I guess I could make myself look fancy, if I spent a lot of time on it. But I still wouldn’t be able to act like those people do. I’m not—not like them! You know that, so don’t pretend you don’t understand what I’m saying.”
He nodded slowly. “There’s a kind of confidence they have,” he agreed. “A natural sense of belonging. It’s not quite arrogance, maybe, but it’s damn close.”
“Yes,” she almost sobbed. “Like that, but more.”
“I know. It’s hard to define, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. The thing is, Cassidy—those people are my best friends. I love them, and I trust them, and they love and trust me back. I may not be a natural, but that doesn’t mean I’m not part of them.”
“And how long did it take for you to learn all that?” she asked. “You were a kid when you met them—Emily’s age, or even younger? You’ve been working with them and living with them for all this time, and you still don’t really have it down.” She shook her head. “Okay, maybe I could learn, but not fast enough. Emily’s going to her new school in two months, and just because you got lucky and found some friends who aren’t snobs doesn’t mean she won’t run into trouble if she’s got me hanging around, acting like a hick. And Will?”
