27. Cassidy
CASSIDY
T he hairbrush clattered into the sink for the third time, and I muttered a curse, fishing it out again. My fingers just wouldn’t cooperate, still trembling from... everything. From this morning. From the way Harle had looked at me, the things he’d made me do while he watched. The memory alone had heat crawling up my neck and my pulse quickening.
I sighed, smoothing a few stray strands back before reaching for my makeup bag.
I wasn’t planning on doing much. Just a little mascara, some concealer to hide the blush that seemed to be a permanent fixture on my cheeks lately, and a swipe of lip balm.
After finishing up, I took a step back and looked myself over. The reflection that stared back at me didn’t look half bad.
I wore a denim skirt that was long enough that, if I had to bend over for any reason, no one could see that I wasn’t wearing underwear. I’d paired it with a black tank top and a cardigan. It wouldn’t matter how hot it got in the kitchen, there was no way I was taking this cardigan off. No way I would let everyone know there was no bra on underneath it.
“Okay, Cassidy,” I whispered to myself. “You’ve got this.”I slipped out of the bathroom and headed towards the kitchen.It was strange how different I felt in his space. There was something about him that made me feel safe, but also exposed, like he could see every part of me, even the parts I wasn’t ready to face.
Harle was sitting at the dining table, scrolling on his phone. He looked up when he heard me enter. “Come over here.”
My pulse leapt at the tone in his voice and I did as I was told. With his hands on my hips, he pulled me so that I was standing between his feet. Then he pushed my cardigan open and ran the tips of his fingers over my collar bones. Oh fuck, why did that have heat rushing to my core?
Trailing his fingers down, he lightly skimmed my breasts with just the tips of his fingers, before cupping them and rubbing at my nipples. His lips quirked when I gasped.
With his eyes locked on mine, his hands moved lower, over my stomach, my hips then around to my ass. From there, his palms skimmed the back of my thighs, down to my knees, then back up, pushing under my skirt and over my bare ass. My core throbbed and my breathing was ragged.
“You are a very good girl, aren’t you?”
The penny dropped. “You’re just…you’re just checking that I’m not wearing underwear?”
“Of course.” His voice was pure sin, even as his hands withdrew.
And here I was thinking we were about to fuck and being so turned on, I was melting.
He stood, towering over me. “You good to go?”
Well, two could play at that game. Straightening my shoulders and adjusting my cardigan, I said, “Sure.” Then, knowing he was watching me, I walked to the front door and bending over, slipped my sandals on. A quick glance over my shoulder had me stifling a laugh. He was doing his level best to look up my skirt and when he realized he couldn’t, his eyes met mine.
“Playing with fire there, aren’t you, darlin’?”
My only reply was a saucy smile as I pulled the front door open.
During the quiet drive, I watched fields blur past, my emotions swirling between anticipation and curiosity. Harle seemed at ease, steering with one hand while the other rested on the console, like this was routine for him.
After a few minutes, he spoke, his voice cutting through the silence. “You ever done anything like this before?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I’ve volunteered at some events back in college, but nothing like this.” I paused, chewing my lip. “What made you want to start coming here?”
He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “I’m, uh, I’m balancing the ledger, I guess you could say.”
My brain fired with a hundred questions. Balancing the ledger? Like he’d done something he needed to atone for? Was that what he meant? I opened my mouth to ask exactly that, but then I looked at his face. Guarded. Stony. Absolutely not inviting questions. Okay then.
We pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later, the building ahead of us small, but bustling with activity. People were moving in and out, carrying trays and supplies, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Harle cut the engine and turned to me, his eyes searching mine.
“You ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s do this.”
The kitchen door opened to a wall of sound - metal spoons against pots, laughter, conversation. It was a little overwhelming.
“Harle! Good to see ya, man!” A tall, broad-shouldered man with salt-and-pepper hair waved us over.
Harle grinned, giving him a firm handshake. “Good to see you too, Tom.” He turned slightly, gesturing toward me. “This is Cassidy, she’s here to help out tonight. Cassidy, this is Tom, the kitchen manager.”
Tom’s eyes lit up as he looked at me, his smile warm and genuine. “Well, any friend of Harle’s is more than welcome here. Glad to have you, Cassidy.”
I smiled back. “Thanks. Happy to be here.”
Tom nodded. “Alright then, grab yourselves some aprons and we’ll get you set up.”
I followed Harle through the bustling kitchen, weaving between volunteers and staff members, to where the aprons were hanging.
Harle plucked one off the hook and faced me, holding the apron open. I lifted my arms, and his fingers brushed my neck as he settled it over my shoulders.
“Turn around,” he instructed softly.
I did, shivering as his knuckles grazed my lower back while he tied the strings. His touch lingered a moment too long, and I fought to keep my breathing steady. The air felt thick between us, charged with an electricity that could burn me if I wasn’t very fucking careful.
He gave me a reassuring pat on the ass and his voice rumbled in my ear when he said, “There, all set.”
I turned back to face him, smoothing down the front of the apron. “Thanks,” I murmured, meeting his eyes. For a moment, we just stood there, the chaos of the kitchen fading into the background. He was so fucking gorgeous, it was a crime.
“Harle! We could do with a hand over here!”
That snapped us both out of whatever the fuck that trance was that we’d just tumbled into.
Harle led me to the counter and positioned me in front of a giant pot of soup. “It’s two scoops per bowl and one slice of bread. If someone wants to chat, let them. This isn’t a corporate burger joint, so there’s no need to hurry anyone along.”
“Got it.”
I stood beside Harle, ladling soup into bowls and handing out slices of bread. The rhythm of the work was soothing, and I found myself relaxing into it. As we served, Harle greeted each person with a friendly smile and often by name.
“Hey there, Al. How’s that job search going? Any luck with that construction crew I told you about?”
Al’s face lit up. “Starting Monday, actually. Thanks for the lead.”
“Congrats, man. That’s great news.”
“Stella! Good to see you. Is your daughter feeling better?”
“She sure is. That specialist you lined up for us is doing wonders.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You just let me know if you need any more help.”
“Will do.”
And on it went. He seemed to know everyone. Their names. their worries, what they needed. It was absolutely fascinating to me, causing countless questions to whirl through my mind. It was like putting together a puzzle, but I was missing most of the pieces.
What had happened in his life to bring him here? What kind of man was he, really?