5. Cassidy
CASSIDY
“Here,” Alyssa said, sliding a margarita in front of me.
I stared at the glass, tempted to drink it, but I just wasn’t much for alcohol.
Unlike everyone else in this town, I didn’t enjoy coming out to The Beaver and Boot every weekend for a good time.
Instead, I sat curled up in my comfy chair, pretending it was a reading nook, and dug into the latest novel.
But when in Rome.
I took a sip, surprised that I actually liked it, though it would not become a regular thing for me.
“I can’t believe you don’t come here,” she said, looking around the raucous bar.
For a small town, it was awfully lively.
“I’m more of a homebody!” I shouted as the karaoke machine started up and Cheyenne, her roommate, took the stage, belting out a Randy Travis song.
“You’re missing out!” she laughed. “This place is great.”
It was odd that Alyssa fit into this small town better than I did. Half the people in here were classmates of mine from school, and yet, I hardly spoke with them because my nose was always shoved in a book.
“Hey!” she called out, waving to Bailey, who was over at a table with Blake, her sister-in-law. “Come on. Let’s go say hi.”
She grabbed my hand, barely giving me time to grab my drink, before she was tugging me across the bar toward her desired table.
“Hey! I see Cheyenne is making her singing debut of the night,” Alyssa laughed with Bailey.
“I told her not to do it, but she’s trying to seduce Archer.”
I glanced at the brooding man in the corner, whose eyes were on anyone but the woman on stage. At least, that’s the way he wanted it to appear.
“It doesn’t seem to be working,” Alyssa laughed. “Someone should tell her that.”
“Trust me. We have,” Bailey retorted. “I haven’t seen you out in a long time.”
“Yeah, well…” I had no good excuse other than I hated being out at the bar when I could be enjoying a blanket and a book. So, I switched gears and turned the conversation on her.
“How’s the baby?”
“Good. I mean, crying all the time and irritatingly fussy, but I just love snuggling him.”
“What’s his name?” I probably should have known that already, but again, I wasn’t exactly the person who paid attention to all the news in town.
“Duke.” She rolled her eyes as she watched her husband walk up to the bar to talk to Ryder. “I bet you can guess where the name came from.”
Ooh, I actually knew this one. “Well, his favorite actor was always John Wayne.”
“Exactly. Do you know how many nights I’ve suffered through old movies? I’m just as happy to watch them as the next girl, but come on! Would it kill him to put on a movie from this century every once in a while?”
“Well, I like the classics, too. Then again, I don’t watch that much TV.”
“Yeah, I remember when you and Jeff used to go to the diner for date night, you always had your nose stuck in a book, and he would get so irritated that you weren’t paying attention to him.”
Unfortunately, that was true. “Well, I did open a bookstore.”
“We should have all seen it coming,” she laughed.
“So, how is Jeff?”
“Whining and complaining,” she waved it off, acting like it wasn’t a big deal at all that he was shot just a few months ago. “He’s eating up all the attention and has his mom wrapped around his finger. The man hasn’t made a single meal since the incident.”
“It’s so scary to think that something like that could happen around here.”
“Should have had his gun on him,” Liam said, scooting behind me to reach his wife, pressing a kiss to her lips.
“Stop being so mean to your brother.”
“I will when he stops telling Ma that he needs me to take care of the horses. The doctors cleared him a while ago.”
“He was shot!” Bailey argued.
“And that’s why you’re still doing his laundry,” Liam retorted.
I took a sip of my margarita, cringing when Cheyenne hit a high note to a new song she was singing. Someone needed to take the mic away from her.
“Hey, have you met Blake yet?” Bailey asked.
“Uh…yes. She tackled a kid through my shop window.”
“Cassidy, right?” she winced, shaking my hand. “Again, sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I had it fixed in no time.”
Her eyes lit up as she glanced over my shoulder. “Oh my gosh! You came?”
Wondering who she was talking about, I turned just as I was taking a sip, and nearly choked on my margarita.
Mr. Blue Eyes was right behind me, looking devastatingly handsome in jeans and a black Henley that clung to his sculpted muscles. Damn, that just wasn’t fair.
“It’s not like I had much of a say in it,” he grumbled. “The threatening phone messages made it pretty damn clear I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
“Well, someone had to get you out of the house.”
“I’m still recovering.”
Blake snickered as she took another sip of her drink. “Did you not enjoy the horse ride?”
“I don’t know how the hell you wear those chaps. They’re uncomfortable as hell.”
I huffed out a laugh, imagining him fitting his tree trunk thighs into a pair of chaps. And that’s when his eyes turned on me, and heat scorched me from head to toe as those brilliant blues studied every inch of me.
“Oh!” Blake jumped up, grabbing my drink from my hand. “You should totally dance to this song.”
“What?” I asked, dragging my feet as she tugged not only me, but her handsome brother toward the center of the bar.
“Yeah, this is a good song, and I need my brother to loosen up a bit. Do me a favor and dance with him.”
“But—”
“I hardly think I need my sister to set me up for a dance,” he muttered.
“See? He doesn’t want to dance.”
“Of course he does,” she chuckled, shoving us out there for everyone to see.
When we just stood there, she grabbed her brother’s hand and placed it on my hip, then rushed around him and grabbed his other hand, holding it up—only to place my hand in his. God, this was mortifying.
“There! See? It’s not that hard.”
Everyone in the bar was staring at us. Like, hardcore eyes on us, waiting to see what would happen.
I couldn’t even hear the music over the sound of my absolute mortification. For a whole ten seconds, we just stood there with our bodies uncomfortably locked in the position Blake set us in.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Blake is pushy.”
“I can see that.” Pursing my lips, I glanced around the bar, wondering if we were going to just stand here all night like this. “You know, we really don’t have to—”
He pulled me closer, sliding his hand up the center of my back until I was flush against him.
“Oh, okay. So we are doing this,” I said as he gently swayed from side to side.
“So, bookshop lady—”
“Cassidy,” I clarified. “And you are?”
“Sam.”
“Right, Blake’s older brother.”
I wasn’t sure why I had asked his name. Since the moment I laid eyes on him, I had repeated his name in my head only every minute of the day that I wasn’t reading. He had even starred in some of my fantasies as I laid in bed at night.
Which was not the thing to think about right now.
“Did you finish your lights?”
“Oh, yeah. Got them all up and finished decorating yesterday.”
“It’s a little early.”
“That’s what everyone tells me, but I don’t care. I love Christmas. It’s the most magical time of the year.”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving.”
“Right, but you don’t get the joy of Christmas morning on Thanksgiving.”
He rolled his eyes at that. “You get football and food on Thanksgiving.”
“And you get presents at Christmas. Sparkling lights, laughter, warmth—”
“Only when you’re a kid.”
“I still have that.”
“Let me guess, you still spend Christmas at your parents’ house.”
I grinned up at him, not at all ashamed of that. “Guilty as charged. And it’s still just as fun as when I was a kid. I still wake them the minute I get up. I have to wait for the coffee to be ready before we can do stockings. And I still spend all day at their house watching movies.”
“That sounds like too much family.”
I shrugged, not really caring. I loved my family, and those traditions were still important to me.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
His eyes locked on mine for a whole twenty seconds before he answered. “That’s so cheesy.”
“And yet, it’s still true,” I grinned. “Tell me, is there another time of the year when you can just sit around drinking all day, laughing and listening to music while you open presents and reminisce with family?”
“You could choose to do that any day of the year.”
“Yes, but you can also light a fire for ambiance.”
“You can light a fire anytime you want.”
“And there’s the Christmas tree, filled with all love and sunshine.”
He chuckled at that. “I had no idea a tree could do all that.”
“Well, it does for me.”
“And you spend the night at your parents’ house, just like when you were a kid.”
“Yep!” I grinned. “I usually stay over there for Thanksgiving as well to get up at the crack of dawn to help my mom with the baking. Of course, my dad always tries to eat the pies before dinner. Then my mom smacks his hand and shoves a piece of cornbread in his face to tide him over.”
“Cornbread tides him over?”
“Well, we have cheese and crackers and olives and all kinds of appetizers. It’s not like we starve him.”
“And all this is just for the three of you.”
“Well, we always have an open-door invitation. Occasionally, someone shows up. But this year, I’m hosting,” I beamed, so excited for my first Thanksgiving at my house.
“Tired of waking up in someone else’s bed?” he asked, his tone interested, though his eyes wandered around the bar.
“Actually, my mom said she needed a break from it all. So, I happily volunteered to host. I still have to get the tablecloth and the runner, and all the other fancy decorations to make it really beautiful.”
“Why don’t you just borrow it from your mother?”
It seemed logical, but I wanted all my own things. “Because if I do it again next year, I’ll have to borrow everything from her.”
“Seems like a waste of money,” he muttered.
“It’s an investment in the future.”
“A wasted investment. Shouldn’t you put that money aside for a house or something?”
My good mood vanished at his criticism, and my back instantly stiffened. “Like you are? Last I heard, you were still living with another couple. How long were you planning to mooch off them?”
“I pay rent,” he argued.
“Yes, but you’re still living with a married couple.”
“I’m recovering. What’s your excuse?”
I huffed in irritation. Man, this guy really didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. “As a matter of fact, I’m saving for a house.”
He nodded, glancing off to the other side of the room. “And renting from the Parkers, right? Michael said something about that.”
“So? I have a plan. At least I’m not just wallowing in self-pity.”
He suddenly released me, stepping back. And just like that, it was like the whole bar gasped in horror.
“You know nothing about me.”
“Maybe that’s because you choose not to open yourself up to anyone,” I retorted.
Jaw clenching, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar. Shaking my head, I decided I was done for the night. I hadn’t really wanted to come out anyway, and now that I had, I was even more convinced that staying in my house with my books was much more satisfying.
I grabbed my things and stormed out of the bar, only to find Sam leaning against the wall, his hands pressed firmly to the brick as he took in deep breaths. His whole body was on edge, ready to break out into a fiery rage.
And now I felt bad.
Sighing, I walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, but I didn’t even get a chance to open my mouth as he grabbed me and spun me up against the brick wall, his body caging mine in for only a second before his lips crashed down on mine.
The taste of beer slid across my tongue as his hand came up and cupped my jaw, forcing my mouth open. I gladly succumbed to his wishes, so lost in the moment that I didn’t really have a chance to think about the big brute doing anything but pressing his body against mine.
Sliding my fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, I tugged him closer, shivering as I felt a rumble of approval vibrating against my chest as his thick cock pressed into my stomach.
Gasping, my eyes slid closed as his lips trailed down my neck, and his hand cupped my breast. God, it had been too long. Thick, hard muscles rippled under my fingertips as I slid my hands up his chest and over his muscular arms. This was really happening. He was really kissing me, and—
He jerked away from me, his chest heaving as he stared at the ground, refusing to meet my gaze.
I stepped forward, but he gave a sharp shake of his head, and his eyes finally met mine. That brilliant blue from the moment I met him was now a dark blue that almost seemed black in the dead of night.
But I was mistaken if I saw anything other than hatred in his eyes. Whether that was at me or for himself, I couldn’t be sure. The one thing I did know, nothing was happening tonight.
I picked up my purse that had fallen on the ground and stormed past him to my car. I didn’t have room for that kind of hesitation in my life. I wanted a man who knew he wanted me and wasn’t afraid to take it.
Clearly, that would never be Sam.