Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
“So,it’s your birthdays next week,” Maddie said to Marley and Presley. The two of them had finished work early and when Marley heard Pres was heading straight to their parents’ place to pick Delilah up, he’d tagged along, looking inordinately pleased at the prospect of a free dinner.
“The anniversary of you shitting the both of us out,” Marley said, grinning. “Congratulations, Mom.”
She rolled her eyes. “I did not… do that.” It was funny how she couldn’t bring herself to swear. When they were kids, Pres and Marley used to have bets over who could make her curse first. “And anyway, I was about to offer something nice. How about we have a cookout? The weather is good and Dad has a new grill he wants to try.”
“So you’re inviting us over and Dad will do all the work?” Marley said. “Sure.”
“Dad doesn’t do all the work,” his mom said, shaking her head. “We all know that the women do all the work for the cookout and the men get all the glory. We marinade the meat, we prep the salads and the veggies, we put out the plates and the silverware and the cups and the drinks. The guys just slap some steaks on the grill and then somehow they’re Michelin starred chefs.”
Pres’ lips twitched. His mom wasn’t wrong. He’d seen how hard she cooked for them all. “Why don’t we do it at my place?” he suggested. “I can do the work.”
“On our birthday?” Marley frowned.
“Mom did all the work on our actual day of birth. Why make her do it again?”
“I always did like you better.” Their mom winked and patted his cheek. Marley started to laugh because she’d never played favorites. Between Pres, Marley, and Hendrix there had always been more than enough love to go around.
Cassie was right. They’d lucked out in the parent department.
“Honestly, I’d love to do it here. And you boys can always come over early and help set up,” she told them.
“It’s a deal.” Pres nodded.
“So we just need to decide who to invite. Family, of course. And some of the guys from the fire station?” She looked at Marley who shrugged.
“Sure.”
“And the band?”
“If you invite Alex to the cookout you’d better buy extra steaks,” Pres said. “The guy is little but he can put it away like nobody else.”
“That’s because he can’t cook for shit,” Marley pointed out. “Remember that time he tried to make a lasagna to impress a girlfriend?”
“I do.” Presley nodded. Marley had been on call that day. When the fire department had been called out and raced to Alex’s apartment his day had been made.
He’d never let their bassist live it down.
“And Cassie, of course,” their mom said smoothly, glancing at Pres from the corner of her eye.
“Of course.” Marley bit down a grin. “Mom, never apply to the secret service. You’d make a terrible spy.”
“What?” Her mouth opened in the perfect image of innocence. “She’s a band mate, too. That’s all I meant.” She turned to look at Presley. “Unless she isn’t just a band mate?”
“She’s also Delilah’s teacher,” Pres said, his voice full of amusement. “So I guess she isn’t just a band mate.”
Marley started to laugh, as their mom sighed, looking exasperated.
“I’ll ask her,” Pres promised.
“And will she come as your band mate or…” she trailed off.
Pres glanced at her fondly. Their mom had never been the best at being surreptitious. “She’s a good friend. That’s how she’ll come.”
Marley snorted.
“To the fucking cookout,” Presley added.
“I didn’t say anything.” Marley held up his hands.
“But you thought it,” Presley pointed out. Because his twin was still smirking.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s sneaking around thinking you’re all clever when in fact half of the town sees your car outside her house every time Mom and Dad have Delilah over for a sleepover.” Marley smirked, crossing his arms over his thick chest.
Their mom blinked and looked over at Pres. “You stay over?”
“Come on, Mom, you know he does. You told me that Ria told you.” Marley blew out a mouthful of air. “Can we all just talk the truth for once?”
“Jesus.” Pres raked his hands through his hair. “Is everybody talking about this?”
“You’re not exactly discreet,” Marley pointed out. “Even at rehearsal you two eye fuck each other until Alex and I turn green. And the gig the other night…”
The one where he and Cassie had snuck out during the interval and made out until neither of them could breathe. Pres’ cheeks heated up at the memory of it.
“What gig?” their mom asked, looking from Marley to Pres. “The one at the Moonlight Bar?”
“No, the one after that,” Marley said. “Even Pres isn’t stupid enough to kiss a girl in the middle of the town square.”
“You and Cassie are kissing?” his mom asked.
Pres let out a long breath. He’d had enough of this. “Yes, we’re kissing.” He waited for the feeling of regret to come over him. Maybe the need to shut down again. But it didn’t. It had been a couple of weeks since Cassie had come over for pasta and the two of them had talked through his feelings about Jade.
Two fucking amazing weeks of talking and kissing and doing more whenever they were alone. Which was nowhere near as often as he liked.
Or his body needed.
A huge smile crept across his mom’s face. “Oh my God, that’s wonderful.”
He put his hand up. “But it’s still early. And Delilah doesn’t know. And I’d like to keep it that way for now.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not going to confuse her by introducing Cassie as my girlfriend.”
“So you’ll let her be confused when somebody else tells her?” Marley asked. “I know she’s only little, but she goes to school. Kids talk. All one of them has to do is repeat some gossip and soon it’ll be around Hartson Elementary.”
Pres winced, mostly because Marley was right. You couldn’t get away with anything around here without somebody finding out. Look at his cousin, Grace. Her parents had just found out she’d been seeing her much-older step cousin and their families had imploded.
Last Sunday he’d stuck close to her side when she’d been in church with them all to watch Delilah’s first choir appearance, mostly because Michael, the man she’s in love with, had turned up to try to win her back.
Pres had been amazed they’d managed to keep their relationship quiet for as long as they had. Even he hadn’t known, which was a good thing.
First rule of hiding something? Never tell a member of your family about it.
“Yeah, well school’s out soon,” Pres pointed out.
“And then she’ll be at day camp.” Marley grinned. “So good luck with keeping things on the down low.”
The rain had started an hour ago. One of those freak storms that come over the mountains on a hot summer’s day, the thick gray clouds engulfing the sky for a few hours.
Unfortunately, Cassie had just started her final class of the day when it began. She’d taken them through the new dance they were learning, to the accompaniment of the rain lashing down against the windows. When the parents came to pick up their children, they’d looked like drowned rats, their too-light summer jackets dripping on the wooden floor, as they waited for Cassie to dismiss them all.
And now they were gone and it was time to go home and she was looking hopefully out of the window for a chink of light between the clouds. But there wasn’t one, not yet. The app on her phone told her there were a few more hours until the storm was due to abate.
The thought of getting in her car and driving home made her chest seize up.
It was stupid, she knew that. But her therapist had told her that trauma was a strange beast. It wasn’t really driving in the rain that she was afraid of. But what it represented. And they’d worked hard to try to stop her from feeling this overwhelming sense of dread at the thought of getting behind the wheel while the streets were flooded with water.
But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
“Hey.” Gemma walked in, a smile on her face. “I’m heading home. Thinking that I should buy a boat instead of a car. You ready for me to lock up?”
Cassie forced a smile onto her lips. “I’ve just got a couple of things to do before I’m ready to head out. I can lock up tonight.”
“You sure?” Gemma asked.
“Yep.” She kept her voice as light as possible. She hated lying to her friend, but she just couldn’t admit to this weakness. And that’s what it was. The kind of weakness her mom would hate.
She pushed that thought out of her mind. ‘Be kind to yourself,’ her therapist had told her when she’d expressed her frustration. ‘You got back behind the wheel. That was a huge first step.’
Yes, it was. And it had been hard at first, even driving in the sunshine. Because all she could think of was that damn truck and the shrill screech of brakes before she lost control of her car. She’d avoided the truck, but she’d ended up in a ditch, pain radiating from her broken leg while she waited for rescue.
“You sure you’re okay?” Gemma asked.
“Yes, honestly.”
“That’s good.” Her friend gave her a genuine smile. “Oh, by the way, I saw the latest TikTok from last week’s gig. You guys are sensational. And I need to find a better babysitter. I can’t believe I missed seeing you on stage again.”
Cassie smiled. “Thank you.” It had been a good one. Especially the part in between, when she and Presley had… yeah.
Her cheeks pinked at the memory.
“Let me know when the next one is. I promise to be there.”
“I know you have the kids to look after. The TikTok views count.” Cassie winked. She just wanted Gemma to leave now. Before she got an inkling about the rain and put two and two together. “Go on, head home before it gets any worse.”
“Well don’t stay too long,” Gemma told her.
“I won’t.” Just until the rain stops. Whenever that might be. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gemma blew her a kiss and left, the door to the studio swinging closed behind her. Cassie slowly walked over to the piano and sat down on the stool. She felt like an idiot. A failure.
What kind of person was afraid of a little rain?
Ugh. She stood up again, deciding to make herself a coffee and see if there was any chocolate in the snack stash Gemma kept in the staff room, striding across the studio and pushing the door open.
And walked straight into a hard, wet torso blocking her way.
“Oof.” The breath escaped from her lips. She looked up to see Presley standing there, soaked to the bone. He was wearing a pair of sodden jeans and a thin black t-shirt that stuck to his skin. “I didn’t see you.”
He gave her a half smile. “Clearly.”
“What are you doing here? Delilah doesn’t dance today.”
He was still smiling at her. She felt her body clenched at his warm eyes. “I came to give you a ride home.”
“My car’s outside.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I also know it’s raining so you won’t be using it. I saw Gemma on my way in. She said you were planning on staying for a while.”
Cassie swallowed. “Did you tell her why?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It isn’t my place. I just didn’t understand why you didn’t.”
“I don’t like showing weakness.”
He reached for her, his damp fingers curling around her face. “It’s not weakness. It’s fear. An understandable one. You’ve been through a lot.”
She blew out a mouthful of air. “You don’t need to give me a ride home. I can wait it out.”
“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. I want to know you’re home and safe. I’ll call Marley and we’ll get your car home for you.”
“You’ll have to tell him why. Once is understandable. Twice is…” she trailed off.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Marley won’t care. Not one damn bit. He won’t see you as weak because you’re not. He won’t see you as stupid, because Marley’s seen trauma, too. He’s a volunteer firefighter, he’s seen enough fender benders to know it’s wise to stay off the road unless you’re confident in the rain.”
“Was he on duty when…” she trailed off.
Pres shook his head. “No. And I’m glad for that because I would have hated for him to be the one to break it to me.”
“Who told you?”
“A police officer.”
She blew out a mouthful of air. “I feel like an idiot. I got hurt. You lost everything and you can drive without blinking.”
“I didn’t lose everything.” His voice was thick. Sure. “Now can I take my girl home?”
“Your girl?” A rush of warmth went through her.
“Yeah.” His gaze flickered to hers. “I think that’s what you are.”
Her breath caught. “I think I am too. If you’re my…”
“Don’t say boy.”
She started to laugh. “You’re definitely not that. My man.”
He held his hand out to her. She slid her palm into his and they walked down the hallway, Cassie turning off the lights as they went. Gemma had already shut down all the computers and locked away everything that needed to be locked. Cassie grabbed her bag from the staff room and turned off the final lights.
“Have you got a jacket?” he asked her. Rain was still lashing against the front doors.
“No.” It had been warm and sunny that morning.
“Then we’ll have to make a run for it.”
She nodded. “Let me set the alarm and then we can go.” She keyed in the code and waited for the countdown to begin, then Presley pushed the front door open, his arms bracing against the force of the wind, and the two of them stepped outside.
“I have to lock up,” she shouted. She could already feel the rain hitting her body, even though Presley was trying in vain to shield her.
It was funny how chivalrous the man could be. How in everything he did, he was aware of his size, of his strength.
Of his innate masculinity.
When she heard the bolts click into place she pulled the key from the lock and put it in her pocket. “Okay,” she shouted over the torrent of the rain. “I’m ready.”
He pulled her in front of him, letting her lead the way while his body stooped over hers, but it was futile. By the time the two of them got into the car, they were both soaked. She felt terrible for dripping water all over the leather seats of the Beast.
He started the engine, switching the heat up to high, despite the fact it wasn’t actually cold outside. Just as wet as it could get in the summer in West Virginia.
“Okay, so before I take you home, I have a question,” he told her.
“Okay. What is it?”
He caught her eye. “Actually, it’s two. One, would you like to come to a cookout next weekend at my folks’ place?”
She smiled. “I’d love to.”
“And two, what do you think about telling Delilah about us?”
Cassie blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. And part of her wanted to laugh, because damn, this man always took her by surprise. But she got the feeling that laughing was the most inappropriate thing to do in that moment.
“Um… is that what you want?” she asked him.
Pres swallowed hard. “Marley pointed out that people will start to talk about us soon. Very soon.” His eyes met hers. “And that kids talk too. Even if they don’t always know what they’re saying, they could upset her by talking about us.”
She nodded. He was right. This wasn’t exactly Manhattan where you could disappear into the night after a steamy liaison. His car parked outside her house had to be a dead giveaway.
“I’m okay with it if you are,” she said softly. “You’re her dad, this has to be your decision.”
Their eyes caught for a long moment. He hadn’t said it, but this meant he was in this thing. She knew that. He wouldn’t be telling his daughter if he wasn’t serious.
And yes, part of her felt a thick pull in her stomach at the thought. Because Presley Hartson came as a package. A delicious package, but all the same it was serious.
“I love Delilah,” she told him. “I never want anybody to hurt her.”
The way he looked at her told her it was the right thing to say.
“Do you regret parking outside my house?” she asked him, thinking back to his earlier words.
A smile pulled at his lips. “Hell no. I’ve never regretted anything less.”
Warmth rushed through her. Did this man know what he did to her every time he opened up a little more? Being with Presley Hartson was like unwrapping a gift, layer by layer. One that kept giving.
“Maybe we should have driven out to the forest to have hot rampant car sex,” she murmured.
His eyes sparkled. “There’s no forest near here.”
“To the desert then.”
He shook his head. “We need to teach you some Hartson Creek geography. There’s mostly fields. Farms. Corn. All that jazz.”
She tipped her head to the side. “So where did you go to make out when you were a kid?”
He lifted a brow. “Where did you?”
“I didn’t make out. I was too busy dancing and singing my way through life.”
“Then maybe we need to make up for a lost teenagehood,” he said thickly, pulling her toward him and brushing his lips against hers. “By the way, every time I see you in a leotard all I can think of is ripping it off you.”
“Spandex is really hard to rip,” she told him. “Seriously, these things are made to withstand a nuclear war.”
“That sounds like a challenge.” His brows pulled together.
“And you sound like a man.”
He grinned. “That’s because I am. Now buckle up, let’s get you home.”