14. Christian
CHRISTIAN
“ G o up and get ready for bed,” I said when I parked the truck in front of the house.
Gracie and Bree, with bellies full from a legendary meal at my momma’s house, lumbered out of the backseat.
I followed them up, pausing when I heard an extra creak in the wood slats. The porch light was on, but that wasn’t unusual.
The trail of melted ice cream was.
I told them I’d be up in a minute, then waited until the girls were out of earshot before rounding the corner.
Cassandra sat on the porch swing, staring out into the pasture. Mint chocolate chip ice cream had melted out of the bottom seam of the carton and ran in a rivulet down the wood planks.
I’d have to hose it off or we’d have a hoard of fire ants taking up residence on the porch.
Lucky for me, Mickey seemed to be taking care of it just fine. He was lying against the house, lapping at the ice cream.
Cassandra didn’t even seem to notice.
“Brought you a plate,” I said as I lifted the Tupperware container full of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
She let out a caustic laugh and took another long drink from the nearly empty bottle of whiskey.
I set the leftovers on the porch rail. “I see you skipped dinner and went straight to dessert and drinks.” I picked up the carton of soupy ice cream. “Didn’t even make it a whiskey float?”
Her only response was to finish off the bottle.
“You gonna be okay on your own long enough for me to get the girls to bed?”
Cassandra’s gaze was listless. “I’m fine.”
“Sit tight.”
I dipped inside, dumped the ice cream carton in the trash, and headed up the stairs, slipping into Gracie’s room first.
“You ready for bed, pretty girl?”
She let out a yawn. “I’m not tired. I wanna hang out with Miss Cass.”
“Too bad. You’ve got school in the morning.”
“But—”
“No buts.” The edge of her mattress sank as I sat down and rearranged the mountain of stuffed animals that lived on her bed.
I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d get too old for them. Bree had outgrown hers years before she was Gracie’s age, but Gracie seemed to be holding on to childhood much more tightly.
Bree remembered her mother, which meant when we lost Gretchen, she was forced to grow up and face some harsh truths far earlier than any child should.
Gracie was too young to have any memories of Gretchen. To her, this was normal.
“Anything you wanna talk about tonight?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I didn’t push it anymore. “I love you.”
“Love you, Daddy,” she said when I kissed her head.
I closed her door and walked across the hall to Bree’s room. “Ready for school in the morning?”
She just stared at the ceiling, so I sat on her bed and fixed the covers.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
Bree sighed. “Can we go shopping this weekend? I need some new stuff for school.”
“What stuff? We got you new clothes at the beginning of the school year. You can’t tell me you’ve already grown out of them.”
“We got jeans and t-shirts,” she huffed with a quintessential teenage attitude. “Can we please go? I need cute stuff.”
I had shit I needed to get done on Saturday, but I didn’t want the day to end on a bad note. “Your request is noted and is under further review.”
She let out a dejected sigh and rolled onto her side.
“Hey,” I said as I gently rubbed her back. “I know you’re growing up. Just give me a chance to catch up, alright?”
I doled out another head kiss and an “I love you” before turning out the light and slipping back down the stairs.
I snagged a glass of water on my way through the kitchen. Cassandra was right where I had left her.
Mickey had vacated the porch, leaving a path of sticky ice cream hoof prints.
“Drink this,” I said as I took the empty fifth of whiskey from her and pushed the water into her hand.
“I’m fine.”
“Obviously not if you think I’d believe that.” I lowered down beside her on the swing. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“You were right.”
I chuckled. “Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes.
I hesitated for a moment, then draped my arm around her shoulders. “Tell me why I’m right.”
“Oh God, don’t tell me you’re one of those words of affirmation people.”
“And you’re not?”
“Nope.”
“Drink your water.”
To my surprise, she did. Grumbling the entire time.
When the glass was empty, I took it from her and set it by my foot.
“What’s the matter?”
Cassandra stared blankly ahead, but it wasn’t the kind of vacant gaze that meant nothing was going on in her head. It was the type of hollow, distant look when the person was emotionally checked out.
It was a look of brewing vengeance.
“He was cheating on me.” Her delivery was loaded and emotionless all at the same time. It was the tone of someone who had accepted the situation in a clinical way.
I swore under my breath. “Jesus—I’m sorry, Cass.”
I’d had my suspicions when Tripp showed up with her on day one, then bolted. A man doesn’t willingly leave a woman like Cassandra unless he doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s got.
“When did you find out?”
“On the phone call. Lillian was there with him. It was pretty obvious.”
“Shit.” Gently, I pulled her into my side.
She stiffened, shrugging off my arm. “It’s fine.”
I eyed the ring on her finger. “You’re fine with your fiancé cheating on you?”
Her temples pulled back and her mouth tightened. It was the practiced look of someone managing a situation rather than experiencing a heartbreak.
“It’s not like it’s a surprise. Things like this happen all the time.”
“No, they don’t, Cass.”
The corner of her mouth trembled. “Maybe not in your world.”
Since it was pretty damn obvious she wasn’t going to let me comfort her, I hunched forward and rested my elbows on my thighs. “What are you gonna do?”
“I want him to hurt as badly as he hurt me.” Malice and cruelly calculated anger hung on every word.
“Come on, Cass.” I pulled my hair out of the bun it had been in all day long. “You know that’s not the mature way to handle things.”
She let out a beautifully wicked laugh. Her lips were crimson like Cruella. If luck was a lady, revenge was a seductress named Cassandra.
“The wonderful thing about being newly single and unattached is that I don’t have to set a good example for anyone. Why be mature, when you can be petty? And since I have plenty of time on my hands, I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with a beautiful form of payback.”
“I think being happy is the best form of revenge. Because that’s something he could never give you or himself.”
Cassandra pushed out of the swing and stood. Her bare feet kicked at one discarded stiletto. “Again with the mystical cowboy wisdom. Does being cryptic ever get old?”
I chuckled. “If moving on doesn’t do it for you, I can dig a trench and bury him in a place where no one will find his body. Do you want him in the east pasture or the west?”
“That’s more like it.”
Cassandra chewed on her nail as she paced the porch. Jesus, she was going to gnaw that thing down to nothing.
“Hey—” I grabbed her hand on the pass that brought her closest to the swing. “That’s a bad habit, you know.”
She tried to jerk away, but I didn’t let her. When I stood up, she tried to pull away again, but careened back toward me when I didn’t let go. I planted my other hand on her hip, trapping her against the porch railing with my arms braced on either side of her.
“Give yourself a chance to feel upset and hurt, Cass.”
She clawed at the wood railing. “You’d better let me go, Griffith.”
“So that’s it, huh? You’d rather chew off your fucking finger while you plot your retaliation rather than taking a goddamn breath?”
“It’s why I get acrylic nails. I don’t have to wait for them to grow back.”
I took a chance and closed my arms around her.
“Why do you care?” she said as she grunted and threw an elbow to get out of my grasp. “The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner you can get your life back.”
“I’m looking out for you.” I pressed my cheek to her temple. “I value what you bring to the table, and I’m trying to keep you from fucking imploding so you can show everyone else what I see in you.”
She thrashed again, but I didn’t budge.
“I’ve got at least a hundred and fifty pounds on you, Princess. Stop it.”
“Christian.” My name was a whispered tremble on her lips.
She didn’t say my name often, but hearing her mutter it in that breathless tone had me picturing us this close in a different situation.
A very different situation.
Cassandra’s knuckles turned white with pressure as she held on to the railing for dear life. Her shoulders were taut. The way she was grinding her teeth to maintain her composure made me think of sandpaper on rust.
“Please go.”
“Cass—”
“I said, ‘please,’” she snapped.
“You’re angry,” I began, but Cassandra cut me off before I could finish.
“Which is obviously something you’ve never felt in your entire fucking life!” She whirled around, blonde hair flying like a tornado. “You’re a walking sedative! Mr. Never-Raises-His-Voice . I’m sure I look fucking crazy to you! Of course I’m angry, you serene fucking horse whisperer!”
Honest to God—I wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t exactly the time for it. Cassandra was shaking with rage, and I didn’t blame her.
I knew she had a lot to drink, but the woman could handle her liquor. She looked sober as a judge.
In a burst of fury, Cassandra balled up her fist and swung at one of the posts along the porch railing.
“Hey now,” I grunted as I caught her fist in my palm. “You’re gonna hurt those pretty hands, not him. Don’t hurt yourself trying to take down someone else.”
“I just—” One glimmering tear fell to her cheek, then another. Cassandra hiccuped.
Miraculously, she turned and rested her head on my chest. Oxygen rushed out of my lungs as I wrapped my arms around her, cradling her head in the palm of my hand.
“You loved him,” I reasoned. “It’s okay to be angry after someone betrays you like that.”
“I didn’t love him.” Cassandra sniffed back tears, but they just kept streaming down her face, streaking her makeup. “I just wanted to be loved.”
We stood there for what felt like an eternity, swaying together in the porch light as she cried.
Eventually I coaxed her inside. She fought me the entire way.
Sadie helped, nipping at Cassandra’s ankles until she parked herself on the couch. Sadie kept watch while I heated up the leftovers.
“Eat,” I said as I set the plate in her lap and handed her a fork. “If you’re anything like me, drinking on an empty stomach will bite you in the ass in the morning.”
She just poked around at the green beans.
I pitched a throw pillow across to the empty armchair and sat down beside her. “What does this mean for your job? He was your boss, right?”
“Boss adjacent,” she clarified.
Good to see that her fire hadn’t died. I liked her sass.
Cassandra stabbed a green bean with a little more force than necessary. “He liked to act like my boss, but after I got demoted back to business development, it took me out of his chain of command. At least I’m still employed.”
“You really want to work near him?”
Her lips curled up. “Why should I be the one to leave? If he’s uncomfortable with my presence, that’s his problem.”
“That’s my girl.”
Her attitude was strong, but her eyes were sad.
I settled in, stretching my arm around her shoulders and reaching for the remote. “You’ve got a place here as long as you want.”