by Lissa
She was as stubborn as Jackson. “Crap.”
On the bright side, the sex in the barn had been fun and things today hadn’t even crossed into the realm of worst date ever. She didn’t think it was the end of whatever it was she and Jackson had. She didn’t know how long it would take for him to come around or who would give first. She gave first yesterday and last night. It would be good for them both if he gave this time around. World peace would likely happen before that.
What was it about him? And were all younger men like that? Stubborn? Arrogant? I’m right and you’re wrong. I know everything and you don’t? She sighed and kicked at a few rocks in her path. No. From hearing conversations among her female students, most men were like that. Age didn’t seem to matter.
But she didn’t want most men and she didn’t want a man her age or an older man or even another younger man. She wanted Jackson. She wanted that drawl in her ear, those hands against her skin, between her legs, that mouth kissing her, that hard working body covering her. She wanted the way he fit around her, the way he said her name, the way he licked frosting off her nipples. She wanted the fire in his blue eyes, the gentle teasing and easy banter. She wanted the protective instincts he had and the vulnerabilities he didn’t want anyone to see.
Whatever personality flaws, she loved that he wasn’t perfect. Those things made him human and made him Jackson. He was dogged determined in what he wanted. He’d wanted the business he currently had and she had no choice but to admire him for making it as successful as he had with practically no support other than from his sister. His father’s stance wasn’t right on so many levels, but many things could be forgiven and put aside with simple words.
Jackson wasn’t scared of anything.
Cass was scared she’d lose him the way she’d lost her business. He’d succeeded where she’d failed and she was pissed at the universe for it. Everything she’d done to make it work, and that ultimately hadn’t worked, Jackson had turned into success for himself.
Of course, he’d concentrated on part of the pastry arts whereas she’d tried several different ones. Pies, pastries, cakes, cookies. She’d thought if she offered a variety, that more people would flock to her little storefront, but that hadn’t been the case. Jackson and Samantha were singular, focused, and they were making it. Cass admired them both and that niggling little bit of envy that she couldn’t make it doing what she loved, was like a sharp knife point to the heart.
Jackson had asked her earlier if she’d ever give it another try and she’d said no. That kind of humiliation was something she didn’t want to experience again. It was more than humbling. She hadn’t been ready or prepared for what the food business was really like. She’d taken on more than she could possibly handle on her own and now the market was saturated with bakeries of all kinds and for every tastes. There was really was no place for her in the industry except the classroom where she was safe from failure and used her own experiences to shape future bakers.
So lost in her own thoughts she didn’t know Jackson was on foot behind her until he spun her around by the arm. His kiss was hard and thorough, leaving no part of her mouth untouched by his tongue.
His hold was uncompromising and he left no room for her to squirm or even hold on to him. He had her hauled up into his body. His very hard body. His very aroused body and she couldn’t hold back a moan.
The kiss wasn’t angry but was no less intense. She chanced a glance into his face and her mouth went slack when she realized he’d been kissing her with his eyes open. The blue was dark, and up close like this, she could make out gold flecks around the edges.
He lifted his lips but only a scant inch. “No one has ever talked to me like that. No one has ever stood up to me like that. It’s kinda hot.”
Cass smiled and some of her tension eased and she kissed him with a quickness that didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Has anyone ever kicked you before?”
“Yeah but they got their ass kicked in returned. I can’t do that to you.”
“So you kiss me instead? I like that.”
“I could cheerfully screw your brains out in the cab of my truck too.”
Chapter Six
That statement brought her up short and she flapped her gums with nothing coming out in the form of coherent words.
Jackson laughed and wrapped his arms around her, anchoring them together. “Incidentally, that’s something else I didn’t do with anyone who ever kicked me, regardless of what my father thinks.”
“You don’t really believe he thinks you’re gay because you bake cupcakes, do you?”
“I wish I didn’t but I think he does. He’s been working cattle and horses since he was a boy and his father before him.” Jackson shrugged. “I just don’t think it ever crossed his mind that I wouldn’t want to do it too. He really does believe it’s woman’s work and maybe it’s easier for him to think I’m gay than to think I just don’t want the ranch.”
“I’m sorry. I ―”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t. You were right about me. I don’t know how to change or how to change things with him, but you were right.” At her wide eyed stare, he laughed again. She seemed to provide a great deal of humor for him even without trying. “I know. You need a moment to take it in.” He stood back, opened his arms wide then crossed them over his chest. “I won’t be admitting to it again, so take all the time you need to process it.”
Even when he was trying to say she was right, he was arrogant and cocky. Pissed at the world half the time but not for any other reason than… Maybe he was just pissed at himself and his father more than the world or anything else? If he could just get that damn chip off his shoulder, he could be great. On the other hand, the chip is what gave him all the brashness and drive to be great.
“You’re still an ass,” she said around a laugh.
“Perhaps, but you know, you’ve got a fine one baby, and I intend to tap it one day soon.”
Nervous giggles bubbled up. “How did we get on the subject of…of…” She shook her head and pulled her lips in trying to rein herself in.
“The subject of what? Ass fucking?”
“Crude, too.”
“You brought up ass.” The innocent look on his face made her want to kick him again. Or maybe just tackle him to the ground.
“In reference to your attitude.”
“Yes. And I cheerfully changed it to reference something much more fun.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Have you ever?”
Was she blushing or was it the Texas heat making her face feel all flushed? “Yes.”
“Like it?”
“We’re in the middle of a dirt road, Jackson. I don’t think this is the right place to discuss my sexual past.”
“True. I don’t really care about your sexual past or the men in your life before me. All I care about is your sexual future and that I’m the only man. I just wanted to know if you’d done it before. You have, and I’m assuming you’re willing to again. That’s all I need.”
“So damn sure of yourself,” she said under her breath, though it was loud enough that he heard it.
“Yes. Especially with you.”
“What’s it like? To feel invincible like that?”
“What say we get back in the truck where there’s A/C and we can discuss it.”
“I’m still mad at you.”
“That’s fine. I’m still mad at you too.”
“What have you got to be mad at me for?”
“Kicking me.”
“I warned you. Not my fault you didn’t think I’d really do it.” Cass walked around Jackson and gave him a placating pat on the shoulder. “I agree with the truck idea though. It’s hot out here.”
She’d only taken a couple of steps before Jackson fell in beside her. “I’m not invincible.” He’d leaned down to say it, as though it were a big secret. “I can be hurt. I’ve just learned to turn it into something more. It’s motivation
to do more, to do better, to prove it or disprove it. Whatever it is at the time.”
“So failure doesn’t make you quit.” It wasn’t a question and she didn’t say it like it was. It was a statement and an odd one in her own voice. Failure made her want to run and hide and all these years later, she was still licking those wounds that simply refused to heal. Or, maybe it was her that refused to let them.
“Of course not. It makes me want it even more.”
“And people only get one shot?”
“Why do you think that?”
“You took what I’d said, what your father said and turned it into the motivation you needed to get your business off the ground but then you left us high and dry.” They’d made it back to the truck and Jackson opened the passenger side door for her. She climbed inside and watched as he rounded the front of the truck and got in behind the wheel.
The air was cool on her face, turning to arctic freeze relatively quickly. It was a wonderful thing. Air conditioning. One of the very best inventions. Ever.
“One of my flaws I guess. The difference though is that you came to me, he didn’t.”
“He’s got his pride, Jackson. Same as you. He’s likely got more of it given that he’s older and is used to the way things always were. Maybe it’s harder for him to accept than you’d like it to be, but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn to accept it.”
“You’re just not gonna get off that are you?”
“No. Even though it’s none of my concern.”
“Shit, baby.” He groaned and thumped his fingers on the steering wheel at the stop sign at the crossroads in the highway. “I’ll make you a deal,” he offered, turning to the right toward San Antonio.
“A deal?” She was wary of any deal his brain might come up with.
“Yes. You game?”
“I don’t know. What is it?”
“Nuh uh. You have to agree first.”
“Jackson…”
“Do you trust me? That’s what this is, a sign of trust. Do you?”
How could she not? She’d felt he was worthy enough for her to swallow her own pride for, and make a play for, so how could she not trust him in whatever little deal he wanted to make with her? She’d slept with him, opened herself up to him. She had no choice but to trust him. “Yes.”
“Good. I trust you too, by the way. I don’t trust many people, I don’t trust many things other than myself, my business, my sister. I do trust you though.”
And given their history, she figured that had to be hard for him to admit. “What’s the deal?”
“I will go see my father if ―”
“You will? Really?” She was so surprised by the statement that she didn’t even let him finish what he was going to say. Nothing he could ask her to do would be as hard for her as she knew going to talk to his father would be for him.
“Yes, I will, but only if…” He slanted her a look. “You listening, Cass?”
“I’m listening.” She was fairly bouncing in the seat. She couldn’t explain why it meant so much to her that the two men mend their fences, but it was. She knew the chip on Jackson’s shoulder wouldn’t be as large or as dangerous to everyone around him if he could just clear the air with his father. That one person’s support of him was what Jackson wanted and needed most, even more than he’d needed hers. “Only if what?”
“You have to try baking again. And not in the classroom.”
All Cass’ glee went right out the rolled up window. Her smile disappeared and her heart plummeted down to her stomach. “What?” The croak that was her voice didn’t surprise her. His suggestion did.
“You heard me.”
Yes she did. “I…I can’t. No deal.”
“Chicken, Teach?” he teased.
He had no idea just how chicken she really was. “No deal, Jackson.”
“There’s no backing out. You already agreed.”
“Tough shit. No deal.” She turned her face away. “Can’t you go any faster?” She wasn’t looking at him, but could feel the looks he was leveling her way. The cab of the truck wasn’t big enough for the amount of tension filling the space between them.
“Cass, talk to me.”
The concern in his voice… God she wanted to give in to it, but she just couldn’t. “I want to go home, Jackson.”
“Why?”
She whipped her head around and glared at him. “Because I do.”
“Uh huh. I get that, but why? ‘Cause I said you have to bake again?”
“Drop it and drive.” She returned her attention to the view outside the window. The open land became more and more sparse as the urban sprawl came into view on the outskirts of the city. She wanted to go home, hide in the comfort of her apartment and not come out for days. She didn’t want to see Jackson again for a while either. That was a lie she wasn’t really comfortable telling herself, but it would the best thing for both of them until he got that crazy notion of her baking commercially again out of his head.
She couldn’t do it and she knew it. She also knew he didn’t understand why but he didn’t have to.
“This isn’t over, Cass.”
No, they weren’t over, but maybe they had spent too much time together in the last twenty-four hours. They were getting on each other’s nerves. They were being demanding of each other and that wasn’t fun.
She didn’t respond to him and his aggravated sigh made her feel bad, like maybe she needed to explain again why what he was suggesting was out of the question. Ask her to do anything else and she was there. Ask her to bake, to take a chance on another bakery, on the only thing she’d ever wanted to do? Oh hell no. That part of her life was over.
The rest of the ride back to her place was silent. He’d followed her home earlier in the morning so she could dress in more appropriate clothes to visit the ranch and they’d left together from there. He pulled up to the front of her house and she was out of the truck before he’d come to a full stop.
“Cass, c’mon now. Hold up.”
“Go home, Jackson. We’ll talk later.”
“I’m not some errant child who’s done something wrong that you can just send me away. Not this time. You owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t. You already know why I can’t. I’ll call you tonight.”
He slammed the steering wheel. “Dammit.”
“Careful now. That thing has taken a good beating a couple times today.”
“And you call me stubborn.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“But at least I can’t be accused of being scared. I think you’ve got the market cornered on that one.”
Cass stumbled back as though he’d slapped her. It was the truth, but hearing it from him was hard to take. She slammed the truck door and turned her back on him. She was on the bottom step of her porch when she heard the squeal of his tires as he pealed down the street.
Hunched shoulders and an aching heart led the way inside her very lonely house.
Chapter Seven
Jackson quietly shut the door to the townhouse. It wasn’t how he felt. He wanted to throw the thing shut so hard it would tear the hinges from the jamb. He was so angry at Cass, angrier than he had been when she told him he should try working in a bakery for someone else before striking out on his own. That time he hadn’t even really been angry though, if he really thought about it.
What he didn’t understand was why she was so afraid to give her own dreams another chance.
She was worth more than just being a teacher. She had as much skill and talent as any other baker in San Antonio, if not the whole state, and she had such passion for it. Her love came through in her words, in her encouragement, in her smile, and in her eyes. It was one of the things he’d first noticed and fell for. Her excitement for the craft rivaled that of his and Samantha’s combined.
Cass’ enthusiasm was infectious and all he’d wanted was to bask in it, let it flow over him and hopefully rub off on him. That she’d been enthus
iastic about him as a man too, well that was just the proverbial icing on the cake. Now she was simply pissed off at him and all he’d done was suggest that she try again.
“Fuck it.” He pushed away from the door. He dropped his keys in the basket on the little table in the entry way and went into the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what to do about Cass at the moment but he knew what to do for his mood. Bake. It always helped him calm down. “Would help if you brought in the milk and eggs, dipshit,” he muttered to himself. The two coolers behind his seats held the dairy he and Sam needed for the week at home and a starter batch of what he needed for his truck. A delivery would be made to The Sticky Cowgirl at the beginning of the week for her shop and his mobile bakery. He had a good sized refrigeration system in his truck, but it wouldn’t hold all the dairy he worked with on a weekly basis because it also had to hold containers of premade fillings and frostings.
He lifted the first cooler out. It contained bottles of milk, buttermilk and heavy cream, and half and half. He lifted the handle and locked it in place, overjoyed as always with the fact the damn thing had wheels. It was usually packed so tight that nothing spilled or leaked and if it could take the ride down the dirt road from the dairy, it could definitely take the little jaunt from the truck up the sidewalk and into the kitchen.
Back outside for the second cooler, which held eggs, cream cheese, butter, and yogurt. He baked several cupcakes that used plain yogurt and even a few that called for sweetened yogurt, which he flavored himself with vanilla beans and a bit of honey.
The unloading into the fridge didn’t take long and he’d take what he needed for tomorrow night over to the truck in few hours. He and his crew would work the nighttime hours, a little off the beaten path, but not too far from the clubs. Their cocktail cupcakes were always a big hit on Saturday nights. He took two nights a week off. Friday and Sunday. As summer got into full swing, he’d switch the days around and they’d work Fridays too, but he needed some time off.
