Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Presley had beenquiet all evening. Ever since Delilah had made him dance. Cassie wasn’t sure if it was because he was annoyed that she’d made a spectacle of him, or if she’d done something wrong.
Softly closing Delilah’s door – because she’d promised to read a bedtime story to her – Cassie tiptoed down the stairs, shaking her head at herself for thinking that way.
Old habits died hard. Especially when you were used to taking the blame as a child. Every time something went wrong in her mom’s life, it was Cassie’s fault.
If Presley Hartson was in a bad mood, that wasn’t her doing. She’d come over, played with Delilah, helped him clean up. Sure, she may have inadvertently done something, but she wasn’t going to take the blame for it.
She sighed. Maybe she should just grab her bag and go.
When she walked back into the kitchen he was standing by the open back door, a beer in his hand as he looked out into his yard. The sun had set and the trees were casting shadows over the grass. Delilah’s swing set was a dark castle shaped silhouette.
He turned when he heard her footsteps.
“She’s asleep,” Cassie told him.
He nodded. “Thank you for reading to her.”
“She’s never a problem. I like spending time with her.”
Was that a wince? It looked like one. She shifted her feet. “So I think I’m gonna go home. I have an early start in the morning.”
It wasn’t as though she was hoping for anything else, anyway. She knew Presley well enough to know that he wasn’t going to go for a full on make out session while his daughter was sleeping upstairs.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” he asked her. “I can make you a drink.”
“I’m driving.”
He held up his beer. “Non-alcoholic.”
“It’s fine. I’ll grab a water when I get home before I crash. It’s been a long day, you know?”
His eyes caught hers. “Please stay.”
Her breath caught in her throat. There was that little boy lost look again. It seemed so out of place in this man – and he was definitely all man. Strong and silent and protective.
When she was in his arms it felt like the world could collapse around them and he’d still keep her safe.
“Do you want me to?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay then.” She nodded, and he turned and walked over to the refrigerator, pouring her a glass of water from the dispenser. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed and she jumped from how cool they were.
“Want to sit outside?” he asked her. “It’s warm enough.”
“That sounds nice.” She followed him out through the open doors. He was right, it was warm, even with a breeze in the air that ruffled the leaves in the oak trees and lifted her hair as she walked.
He had an old pair of white painted chairs, set around a table that looked like it barely got any use. “My mom’s old set,” he told her. “I was supposed to replace it a couple of years ago. Haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Do you not sit out here much?” she asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. The moon was low in the sky, looking like an overripe fruit. Pres pulled out the seat next to her and sat in it, stretching his long legs out.
“Not really. Between Delilah and work I’m pretty busy. And now there’s the band.”
“Did you see the group message from Alex?” she asked him. “Another video went viral.”
“Yeah, I saw.” Presley shook his head. “I swear he’s addicted to that app.”
“A few of the moms at the dance school have seen it. They wanted to know when our next gig is.”
“Did you tell them?”
“Yeah. I think they have the hots for you and Marley. Kept asking if you’re both single.”
He turned his head to look at her. “What did you tell them?”
Funny how interested he was now. She lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The ghost of a smile passed his lips. Warmth rushed through her, because it felt like the sun was blasting after days of rain.
“Want me to make you tell me?”
“And how are you planning to do that?” she asked lightly. The final word had barely left her mouth before he was standing and pulling her out of her chair, throwing her over his shoulder like she was as light as a feather. She started to squeal as he walked through the backyard with her, blood rushing to her head, the tips of her hair brushing his legs.
“Hush,” he told her.
“I can’t hush. The world’s turned upside down.”
He lowered her down to the grass. They were in the middle of his yard. And yes, she felt giddy. She had to hold onto his arms to steady herself.
“Why did you carry me here?” she asked him breathlessly. “Did you think I’d get intimidated by a bit of grass?”
He chuckled again. Music to her damn ears. “If I’m going to torture you, it’s probably best not to do it under my daughter’s bedroom window.”
“You’re going to torture me?”
“I need answers.” He looked amused.
“You’ll never get them.” She pretended to zip her lips. “Torture me all you want.” Then she frowned. “Wait, ignore that Reservoir Dogs reference. I’d like to keep both my ears in tact.”
“You watch too many movies,” he said.
“I was alone a lot as a kid.”
Presley reached his hand out, cupping her face. “What did you tell them when they asked if I was single?”
“I told them you were single as fuck and to have at it.” Her own lips curled.
“No you didn’t.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t give the answer up as easily as that.” His fingers feathered across her jaw, tipping it up. Then he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. “What did you say?” he murmured against her mouth.
This man. This stupidly complex, moody, gorgeous man. He gave her goosebumps every time he touched her. She should have known the torture wouldn’t involve pain.
Pleasure worked so much better.
“What if Delilah sees us?” She glanced hesitantly up at the closed curtains of the little girl’s room.
“I wasn’t planning on stripping you naked and taking you on the grass,” he muttered. Then he frowned. “Although…”
“Although?” she prompted, because now she wanted to know what he was thinking.
He gave her the softest of smiles. “If I have to do it to get the truth, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
She started to laugh because she knew he was lying. There was no way he’d risk upsetting Delilah. And nor would she, come to that.
They’d both claw each others’ faces off if it meant protecting that little girl.
“You want to fuck the truth out of me?” she whispered.
“I want to fuck you. That’s about it. I wanted to since you taught me to do that stupid one position.”
“First position,” she corrected. “You went quiet after that.”
He brushed the hair from her face. “You noticed, huh?”
“Yeah.” She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip. “Did I do something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
“So what were you thinking?”
Presley blinked. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you told the women about whether I’m single or not.”
She laughed again. Why was it he could go from being completely morose to stupidly amusing in the space of a few moments? And why did she like that so much?
Because you’re addicted to drama.
Ugh, no she wasn’t. Of everything she wanted in life, being drama free was at the top of it.
She nodded. “It’s a deal.”
And then he was lifting her up again, like a damn football, and carrying her further across the yard.
“So, who’s going first?” Presley asked. He’d carried her to Delilah’s swing set, where he’d deposited her on the wooden platform that led to the yellow slide. He was leaning against it, the two of them looking at the house, which was around fifty yards away. From here he’d be able to see if Delilah came out looking for them.
Not that they were doing anything.
Although somehow her sitting here, swinging her legs next to him, felt more intimate than when he was inside of her.
And that thought made her cheeks flush. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her right now.
“I told them that I thought you had your eye on somebody,” she admitted. “I didn’t tell them about us.”
“Why not?” He ran his fingers down the back of her calf. It made her shiver.
“Because I thought we were keeping this a secret.”
“It’s a pretty bad secret. Marley already suspects. If Alex wasn’t so busy trying to go viral, he’d probably suspect as well.”
“Yeah, but there’s something different between our bandmates knowing and everybody knowing. And you know Delilah would find out, too.”
“Not if I told her first.”
Cassie blinked. “Do you want to tell her about us?”
“I don’t know.” He was still facing the house. “I guess it depends on what this is.” He turned to look at her. “I went quiet because I started feeling guilty. That the three of us were having such a good time and Delilah’s mom wasn’t part of it.”
“You miss her,” Cassie said softly.
“It’s complicated. We were friends long before she got pregnant with Delilah. We’d see each other at gigs and have some fun. It was always supposed to be light, and then…”
She held her breath, not wanting to break the spell of Presley Hartson actually talking about his past with her.
“She got pregnant. And we got married because we both wanted to prove that we could be adults about it.” He blew out a mouthful of air. “I know it sounds kind of quaint, but I thought that this was my sign. It was time to be a grown up. To stop messing around and settle down.”
“And did you?”
“Yeah. But Jade, she…” He shook his head, looking into the distance. “Delilah was a real colicky baby. And Jade was the one at home with her all the time. I was trying to build up the construction business to support us, which meant long hours. I thought I was doing my bit, providing for my family. But I wasn’t. I didn’t see how much she was struggling.”
Cassie swallowed. She could taste the bitterness of his words.
“She tried. And that’s what kills me, she really tried to make it work. But I was too much of an idiot to listen to her distress calls. She talked about wanting to be in a band again, wanting to play gigs, and I thought I was placating her by telling her she could do that once Delilah was older.”
He turned to look at her. The sadness in his eyes made her whole body feel achy. “Pres…”
“Don’t say anything yet. I haven’t told you the worst part.”
He looked away, shook his head. She could feel the tension radiating off of him.
“She got an offer from a band. One of their backup singers had pulled out right before they were set to tour and they needed a fast replacement. She wanted to go so badly. We argued about it for days. I had no idea how we were going to make it work with her away. I told her that if she left we were over.”
His shoulders slumped. “And she screamed at me that I had no idea how hard it was for her, then jumped in the car to go see her sister. But she never made it there.”
Oh God. Cassie’s heart clenched.
“It was a drunk driver. On their way home from an afternoon bender. The doctor told me it was instant. She wouldn’t have known what was happening.” He cleared his throat. “Our little girl lost her mom because I wouldn’t listen to her needs. Wouldn’t meet her half way.”
“You didn’t know…”
This time when their eyes met she could see the misery inside his. Is this what he’d been living with for three years? The pain, the agony. The constant guilt?
She exhaled softly, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am. And today, watching you with Delilah, it brought back everything I took from her.”
“You didn’t want her to crash. You weren’t the one driving drunk…”
“But I’m the reason she went out in that car to see her sister.”
“Do you think she’d want you to keep beating yourself up about it?” Cassie asked him. “What if it had been you who’d left? What if you’d been the one who died instantly? Would you have wanted her to put her life on hold?”
“No.” His voice was rough. “But logic doesn’t always help.”
“I know,” she said softly. She gently lowered herself down from the swing set, her bare feet touching the grass. He stared at her wordlessly as she took his hand in hers, and pulled him down, until they were both on their knees. She turned and crawled into the cavity beneath the swing set, laying down on her back. “Are you going to join me?”
He lifted a brow, then crawled in after her, laying down next to her, both their legs extending onto the grass.
“I broke my leg in four places in a crash,” she told him. “One minute I was in the New York Ballet Corps, the next minute I was in the hospital, with my leg in pieces and a doctor telling me it was going to take months until I could walk again. They tried to make me as good as new, but I never danced professionally again.” She took a long breath, the memories making her feel anxious. It had taken five surgeries and a year of recovery and rehab for her legs to heal.
It was her ankle that had been the biggest problem. The doctors told her she’d never be able to dance en pointe again.
Which meant she’d have to leave the New York Ballet.
He threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing them tight. She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. Maybe because their quid-pro-quo felt so uneven. She’d admitted something stupid about some dance moms and he’d cut himself open and bled out to her.
“I called my mom and begged for her to come be with me. But she was in Australia and didn’t want to cut her trip short. She was supposed to come to New York the following month to see me in the show, but when she heard I wouldn’t be recovered for it, she canceled her visit.”
“Jesus.” Presley’s voice was full of compassion.
“And I know losing your dream is nothing like losing your wife or your mom. I know that.” She squeezed his fingers. “And even worse, I realized it was never my dream. My dream was to have a mom who loved me. Who was proud of me. And dancing did that. Made her proud. Until it didn’t…”
“I’m sorry.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her palm. “Nobody should ever treat their kid like that.”
“I know. And that’s the thing. I look at you and the way that you are with Delilah and I know that if I was Jade I’d be happy. Because you make your daughter happy. She’s everything you think about. If she loses her stuffie, you don’t stop until you find it. You didn’t rejoin the band for three years because you couldn’t bear to be apart from her.” She lifted her brow. “You even went to church for her. You’re a good dad, Presley.”
“I stole her mom away.”
“No you didn’t. You just made some mistakes. Some very human ones. If she’d left a minute later, maybe you’d still be together, maybe you’d be divorced. Who knows? But it was one stupid twist of fate, not something of your own design.”
He rolled onto his side to look at her. She rolled too, until they were facing each other.
He leaned forward, cupping her jaw with his strong hand, brushing his lips against hers. “Next time somebody asks, tell them I’m taken.”
Her lips curled against his. “Oh yeah, by who?”
“This sweet little ballerina who knows that every time she dances for me, it makes me hard as fucking nails.”