19. Cassidy
CASSIDY
I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh, the dull thud breaking the stillness of the house. My heels hit the floor with a soft clatter as I kicked them off, and I made my way to the fridge.
The light spilled out when I opened it, highlighting the sad, predictable contents. Yogurt, a few leftovers, half a carton of eggs. I stared blankly, waiting for something to jump out and scream eat me . Nothing did.
I let the door fall shut and leaned against it, crossing my arms as my thoughts wandered down the now-familiar path.
Harle.
My heart hitched at the thought of him, the way his voice had been so calm, so steady when he told me not to tie myself in knots. He hadn’t called or texted since he’d dropped me off a few days ago. Part of me was grateful. After all, what would I even say?
But another part of me, the traitorous, hopeful part, kept wondering if he was thinking about me too. Wondering if I should reach out.
No. That would be insane.
The memory of that night still burned, a slow, smoldering embarrassment I couldn’t shake. I couldn’t face him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
My feet carried me to the pantry, as if a snack would fill the hollow ache inside me. Crackers, chips, soup cans. It all blurred together, unappealing.
The sharp buzz of my phone startled me, the vibration rattling against the table. My heart jolted as I glanced at my smartwatch. Harle’s name popped up, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
I grabbed my phone, my pulse thudding in my ears.
Harle: Hey, I’m in the area and happen to have a spare burger and fries. If you’re home, I’d like to come by.
My breath caught in my throat. My fingers hovered over the screen, shaky and indecisive, before I managed to type back.
Me: I’m home.
I hit send and stared at the little ellipsis dancing on the screen, my nerves climbing higher with each passing second.
Harle: Great. See you in about seven minutes.
Seven minutes. That wasn’t enough time to completely unravel, but I was sure gonna give it my best shot.
Leaping from the chair, I grabbed my shoes from the floor and scanned the kitchen with a critical eye. Counters were mostly clear. The table was fine, except for my abandoned purse. I snatched it up and dropped it on a chair before darting toward my room.
Clothes were strewn across the bed, the aftermath of my morning rush, but I ignored them. You don’t always have to be on your A game, you know. Instead, I zeroed in on my reflection in the closet mirror. My shirt was fine but wrinkled, and my suit pants had definitely seen better days.
I yanked off the shirt, throwing it into the corner, and rifled through my wardrobe until I found a simple tank top and cardigan, plus a pair of fitted jeans that screamed casual, but I totally didn’t try too hard. Sliding them on, I gave myself a quick once-over.
It was fine. I was fine. This was just Harle.
But as I caught my reflection again, I paused. Tugging at the hem of the cardigan, I tilted my head, studying myself. Why did I care what I looked like?
The answer simmered at the back of my mind, too dangerous to fully acknowledge.
I smoothed my hair and hurried back to the living room, hoping to appear calm, cool, and not at all like I’d been in the middle of a minor existential crisis moments ago.
The low rumble of Harle’s truck drifted through the open window, and I froze, my heart pounding like a gavel against my ribs. He was here.
I crept to the window, peeking out from behind the curtain. There he was, climbing out of the truck with effortless grace. A takeout bag dangled from one hand, a six-pack of beer from the other. The golden light of the setting sun caught on his shoulders, broad and sturdy. He honestly had the sexiest walk I’d ever seen.
Why does he have to look like that? I sighed, shaking my head.
He moved up the path, his boots heavy on the steps. When he reached the door and rang the bell, I jumped, my nerves jangling.
I needed a second to pull it together. Okay, Cassidy, just act normal.
I counted to ten in my head, slowly and deliberately, willing the butterflies in my stomach to calm down. By the time I opened the door, I was aiming for cool and collected, like I hadn’t been standing there analyzing the way his jeans hugged his legs.
“Hey.” I leaned casually against the doorframe. At least, I hoped it looked casual. Turns out the butterflies were at a fucking rave.
“Hey,” Harle replied, his lips tugging into that easy grin that always messed with my ability to form coherent thoughts.
My eyes darted to the bag in his hand. “So, spare burger and fries, huh?”
“Only the finest cuisine for you,” he teased, holding it up.
I stepped aside to let him in, the familiar scent of leather and aftershave brushing past me as he walked through the door. My pulse quickened, but I plastered on a smile and forced myself to focus on anything but the way my body reacted to his presence.
I followed Harle into the kitchen, and yeah, of course I checked out his ass. Who wouldn’t? He gestured to the table.
“Sit. I’ve got this.”
I sank into a chair, resting my hands on the smooth surface of the table to keep from fidgeting. Harle set the takeout bag on the counter, unpacking it methodically, as if he was in no rush at all. I envied that calm, the way he didn’t seem to overthink anything. If only he could bottle that up and sell it, he’d be a millionaire.
He brought the food to the table and slid into the chair next to me, close enough that our thighs brushed. The heat of his leg seeped through my jeans, making me hyper-aware of every shift he made.
He reached for one of the bottles from the six-pack, held it up silently, and raised his eyebrows in question.
“Yes, please,” At least my voice sounded steadier than I expected. Or than I felt.
He popped the cap off with a flick of his wrist, the faint hiss of carbonation breaking the silence. When he held the bottle out, I reached for it, but he didn’t let go.
My gaze darted up to meet his, and the weight of his stare hit me like a physical force. He studied me, his blue eyes probing, curious but not unkind. My fingers tightened slightly around the cool glass, but he didn’t move, didn’t break the tension that crackled in the small space between us.
After a long moment, he seemed to find what he was looking for because he let go of the bottle. The corners of his mouth quirked up in a barely-there smile, before he turned his attention to the fries.
He plucked one from the container, popped it into his mouth, and chewed like nothing unusual had just happened. Meanwhile, I sat there, clutching the beer bottle like it was a lifeline, wondering if I was imagining the electricity in the air.
“Anything good happen this week?” He asked.
Oh good, keeping it light and casual, intense stares notwithstanding. “Yes, actually.”
“Tell me.”
“We got funding for the wildlife rehab center I was telling you about.”
“Did you now? Well, that’s amazing.”
“It really is. An anonymous donor and the full amount they needed, no less.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, the guys are so rapt. That sort of thing hardly ever happens. So, they’re off and running.”
“That’s great news.”
“Yeah.”
After that, we ate our burgers and fries for a little while without speaking. I was just starting to relax when Harle leaned back in his seat, wiping his hands on a napkin. His eyes swept over me, soft but purposeful, and my breath hitched under the weight of his attention.
“How’re you doing, darlin’?” His voice was as gentle as a summer breeze.
Warmth unfurled low in my belly, and I felt the color rush to my cheeks. I dropped my gaze, suddenly fascinated with the grooves in the table. “I’m fine,” I said too quickly. “Really, I’m good. Great, actually.”
“Hmm.”
I flicked him a quick look. He didn’t look convinced, and the way his eyes lingered on me made my shoulders sag.
I sighed, pushing my food away. “Okay, maybe I’m not great.”
He didn’t say anything, just waited, his quiet patience loosening the knot of words stuck in my throat.
“I feel really shitty,” I finally admitted. “I feel like my body’s failing me, and it just…it hurts. Everything hurts.”
Harle’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes, a flicker of understanding that made it harder to keep talking.
I swallowed hard and pushed the rest out. “Maybe I should just give up. I mean, what’s the point, right? It didn’t work last time. It’s not going to work this time.”
“You don’t know that for sure. The only way you can guarantee the outcome is if you stop trying. Then you definitely won’t get what you want.”
“You’re awfully wise for a guy your age, you know that?”
Harle shrugged. “You haven’t explored every option. Until you’ve done that, it’s not over.”
“Well, what more is there?”
“The old-fashioned way.”
Oh. Fuck. I stared at him for a long moment as my brain struggled to process his words. “The…the old fashioned way? You mean…”
Harle leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his expression unreadable. “I’ve got a proposition for you.” His tone was steady but low enough to send a shiver up my spine. “If you’re willing to hear me out.”
I blinked, thrown off by the seriousness in his voice. “A proposition?”
He nodded, holding my gaze like he was testing my resolve.
My pulse thudded in my ears, and I felt the urge to crack a joke, deflect the intensity of the moment, but the look in his eyes stopped me. Instead, I nodded. “Okay. I’m listening.”
He exhaled slowly, like he’d been bracing himself for my answer. “You come stay at my place for ten days. We give it a shot the old-fashioned way. No doctors, no labs, no spreadsheets. Just…us.”
The air seemed to leave the room. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Had he really just said that?
“You mean…” I swallowed heavily. “You and me, uh…?”
His lips quirked into the faintest hint of a smile. “Yeah. The normal way. We see what happens.”
“Oh. Fuck.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and Harle’s smirk widened, but he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, letting me process, his calm composure somehow more nerve-wracking than if he’d been trying to convince me.
“I…I don’t know,” I stammered. My hands gripped the edge of the table, my brain a tangle of questions, doubts, and nerves.
“There’s no pressure,” Harle said, his voice softening. “You don’t have to decide right now. Hell, you don’t even have to agree, obviously. But I figured I’d put it on the table. You deserve options.”
Options. Right. Like this was just a normal conversation about choosing between chicken or beef for dinner.
“Why would you even…” I trailed off, biting my lip.
“Because I want to help you, Cass.” The words were simple enough, but there was a rough edge to his voice that made me feel warm all over. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his beer bottle as he continued. “You’ve got a lot of fight in you. I hate seeing you this beat down over something that’s not your fault.” He paused, and something flickered in his eyes. Something that looked almost like longing before he masked it with a playful smile. “And hey, let’s not pretend there’s nothing in it for me.”
I stared at him, my throat tight. This was insane. It was kind, but it was also crazy. And yet, the idea of saying no felt just as hard as saying yes.
“That’s not all though.”
“What else is there?”
“You want the best chance at walking away with a baby in your belly, you agree to ten days of free use.”
That had me frowning. “What’s that?”
“The whole time you’re with me, you’re not allowed to say no. I’ll have you wherever and whenever I want you. And you’re not allowed to wear underwear.”
I stared at Harle, my mouth hanging open. The words “free use” echoed in my head, dangerous and thrilling all at once. Heat bloomed across my chest, creeping up my neck. The thought of being completely at his mercy, available whenever he wanted... My thighs clenched involuntarily.
Part of me wanted to run. This was so far outside my carefully controlled world that it was practically in another galaxy. But there was another part, a part I usually kept locked away behind spreadsheets and schedules, that hummed with excitement.
“I... wow,” I managed to stammer out. “That’s intense.” My voice sounded breathy even to my own ears, and I couldn’t tell if the dizziness I felt was from fear or arousal. Maybe both.
Harle’s eyes never left mine, his gaze steady and unwavering. “It is. But I think it gives us the best shot at what you want.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. The logical part of me wanted to shut this down immediately. It was crazy, reckless, and completely outside my comfort zone. But another part of me, a part I’d been trying to ignore for months, was screaming at me to say yes.
“Can I... can I think about it?”
Harle nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
I inhaled deeply, trying to steady myself. “Okay. I’ll do that. Think about it, I mean.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” He leaned back in his chair, picking up his beer and taking a long swig, acting as if he hadn’t just turned my world upside down.
I reached for my own bottle, grateful for something to do with my hands. The cool liquid did little to calm the fire that had ignited in my belly. As I set the bottle back down, I caught him watching me, his eyes dark with an intensity that made my breath catch.
I didn’t even sit down after Harle left, too wound up to do anything except pace back and forth across the living room like a lunatic. Five minutes later, I couldn’t stand being alone with my thoughts anymore. I grabbed my phone and called Hannah.
“You busy?” I asked as soon as she picked up.
“Not really. Why?”
“Can you come over? Like, now?”
Hannah paused. “Uh, sure. Everything okay?”
“Just…please.”
She didn’t ask any more questions, and twenty minutes later, I heard the familiar rumble of her old Jeep pulling into my driveway. I opened the door before she even had a chance to knock, tugging her inside by the wrist.
“What’s going on?” she asked, frowning as she set her keys on the hall stand.
“Harle was just here,” I blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He feels really bad that I’m not pregnant yet. So he offered for me to stay at his place for ten days. And, um…” I swallowed hard, heat rising to my cheeks. “He’ll just fuck me whenever he wants. I’m not allowed to wear underwear. It’s…free use. Have you heard of that?”
Hannah’s eyes went wide as saucers, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she managed to say anything.
“Are you serious right now?”
I nodded, my face burning. “Dead serious. He just laid it out there, like it was the most logical thing in the world. And I… I don’t know, Han. It’s insane, right?”
“So let me get this straight... the hot Viking wants to lock you up in his cabin for ten days of non-stop sex and you’re calling me to THINK ABOUT IT?” She threw her head back laughing, curls bouncing everywhere.
“Hannah! This isn’t funny!”
“Oh, it’s not funny.” She was still grinning as she leaned back on the couch and folded her arms. “It’s fucking brilliant.”
I froze mid-pace, turning to gape at her. “What?”
“Think about it.” She lifted her legs up and swung around, dropping onto the couch with all the grace of a baby giraffe. Deftly ignoring the way I winced at how she was treating my furniture, of course. It was when she started gesturing with her hands like she was outlining some grand master plan that I knew she was going to make zero effort to talk me out of it. “You’ve already tried the clinical, sterile route, and look where that got you: heartbroken and sad. Now here’s a guy, an insanely hot guy, I might add, who’s not only willing to help you, but also seems genuinely invested in making this happen. And all you have to do is spend ten days in his house. Doing the thing you need to do to actually make a baby.”
I crossed my arms, my stomach twisting into knots. “When you put it like that, it sounds kinda logical.”
She pointed at me like she’d just won an argument in court. “Because it is logical. You know he won’t hurt you, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And you’re attracted to him, right?”
I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Ugh. Fine. Yes. Obviously.”
Her eyes lit with glee at my admission, and she practically vibrated with excitement. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Uh, everything? The part where he said I can’t wear underwear? Or the part where I’m basically signing up to let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants?” Or the part where I was totally inadequate in bed. Wasn’t gonna tell Hannah that though, was I?
She waved the rest off like they were minor details. “Okay, yeah, the whole ‘free use’ thing is a little out there. But honestly? That might be exactly what you need. You’re such a control freak, Cass. Maybe letting go for once is the key.”
I glared at her, but she just smiled sweetly, the way she always did when she thought she was right. Knew she was right.
“You’re impossible,” I slumped onto the couch next to her.
“And you’re overthinking this.” She nudged me with her elbow. “If you really want a baby, then what’s the harm in giving this a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work, and you’re exactly where you are now, just with a few orgasms under your belt.”
I almost flinched at that, because I’d never…
“Best case, you end up pregnant and with a great story to tell at the baby shower.”
That made me snort. “Yeah, because I’m totally going to stand up in front of our grandmother and say, ‘Well, you see, Nana, I didn’t wear underwear for ten days, and now we have little Baby Free Use.’”
Hannah cackled, slapping her knee. “Okay, maybe leave that part out. But seriously, Cass. Don’t let your overthinking get in the way of something that could actually work. You’ve been through enough already. You deserve to try something that might make you happy for once.”
I flopped back against the cushions, her words circling in my head. “You really think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s crazy,” she said, grinning. “But I also think it’s kind of perfect.”