Chapter One #2
“It is magical.” The stunning heritage Victorian was perched high on a cliff overlooking the water and the town of Crimson Point, with lush gardens right out of a magazine spread.
It had been in Beckett’s family since it was built more than 150 years ago.
“I was merely shooting holes in your argument about me not being social.”
“All right, point conceded. But how is TJ going to keep growing on you if you guys never spend time together?”
Yeah, fair. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll make more of an effort.” He so obviously adored Bristol. That was a major point in his favor, so she was willing to try harder.
“Maybe you could bring someone to dinner with us or something?”
Cassie frowned. “What, like a double date?”
“Yeah, why not?”
She snorted. “Not likely.”
“Okay, then, just a friend. You said Tristan’s just a friend. Bring him.”
Nopity nope. “I don’t like mixing work and personal. Too messy.” Boundaries got blurred way too easily. And she didn’t want Tristan to get the wrong idea.
“You’re so stubborn. Come on, at least stay for a bit and visit when you drop me off.”
She’d planned to go straight home and jump into her pajamas to make an early night of it. But since there was pretty much nothing she wouldn’t do for Bristol... “I’ll say hi, stay for half an hour max, then I’m leaving.”
Bristol beamed at her. “Deal.”
Half an hour later, they stopped for pie at the family-owned shop on the side of the highway, sitting at a window booth with a red Formica table straight out of the 1950s.
Cassie loved having a sentimental spot that was just theirs. Bristol had a slice of French silk pie topped with a big dollop of fresh, sweetened whipped cream, and Cassie got her usual order of their decadent lemon sour cream, also topped with a layer of whipped cream and grated lemon zest.
Full of fat and sugar, they got back in the car and drove for the coast. When Cassie at last crested the hill overlooking Crimson Point, the last rosy rays of sunset sparkled like a million diamonds scattered across the water below.
They finally arrived in Crimson Point at Bristol’s townhouse just as the sun was sinking behind the horizon. Then Cassie saw it, and her insides tightened—that familiar white pickup parked at the curb.
Bristol shot her an innocent look, shaking her head. “I didn’t know he was coming over, I swear. Warwick must have invited him.”
Made sense, since Warwick was married to Tristan’s sister, Marley. And Cassie believed that Bristol would never set this up in an attempt to play matchmaker. “It’s fine.”
This was just another example to add to the long list of reasons why she needed to snuff out the growing attraction she felt to Tristan. Her life was complicated enough, and small-town living meant pretty much everyone knew each other.
There were a million little connections linking people within her little circle, a big issue for someone like her, who had made it her mission to keep her personal life private and maintain clear separation between that and her professional life.
“You’re still coming in, right?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” She wasn’t going to bail and make the Tristan issue seem like a big deal, even if she’d made it a point not to spend time with him or any of her work colleagues socially.
As the only female personal security specialist at Crimson Point Security, she felt the constant need to prove her capability and maintain her professional image.
Establishing clear boundaries was part of that.
And then there was the hard lesson she’d learned from working with her ex. That had ended in epic, catastrophic failure. Never again.
“Okay, good.” Bristol started up the walkway, dark brown waves bouncing with each springy step. She even walked happily.
Cassie’s phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced at it, stopped short when she saw the message from her former captain.
How are things? Just wanted to let you know IA has officially closed the file as of this morning. Hope all is well out west.
She swallowed. Drew a steadying breath to calm the sudden spike in anxiety. It was officially over, but she’d put it behind her more than a year ago, before moving here. Or she’d told herself she had.
Moving to Crimson Point had allowed her to put a physical and mental barrier between it and her new life. She was doing well here. Liked the town, loved being close to Bristol and their parents, and loved her job. She was good at it. Was determined not to let anything fuck it up.
“Everything okay?” Bristol had stopped on the doorstep and turned toward her, key in hand.
“Yep.” She typed back a quick response.
All good. Thanks for letting me know. Take care.
She continued toward Bristol, pushing aside the ugly memories trying to surface, and steeling her nervous system against seeing Tristan outside of work.
Inside, a deep, English-accented voice rang out loud and clear from the living room. “Haddaway an’ shite! Ye daft twat, that’s bollocks!”
“That was brutal! Come on, ref!” She was pretty sure that was TJ.
Bristol rolled her eyes and slipped her shoes off on the rug in the entryway. “Sounds super fun.”
“No one’s harder on their team than a true fan,” Cassie said with a smirk, following her into the living room.
Warwick and TJ both looked up from the smaller of the two sofas, wearing identical scowls, bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale clutched tightly in hand. Warwick wore a jersey with black and white vertical stripes.
“Game not going well, I take it?” Bristol asked, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss TJ.
“Match,” he and Warwick said at the same time. The TV showed the score was 2-0 for the other guys.
Cassie looked away from them to the other sofa. A rush of heightened awareness hit her when her gaze collided with Tristan’s, and a warm, slow smile spread across his face.
Her pulse quickened, an unwelcome wave of heat sweeping through her.
Well, shit .
So much for telling herself he was just a coworker.