Chapter 23
Better Days - OneRepublic
Gunner
Watching Cassidy eat that buttermilk-roasted chicken like it was a religious experience might’ve been the hottest thing I’d ever witnessed.
Every slow bite was a show. The gentle scrape of her fork against the plate.
A moan here, a lip lick there, her eyes fluttering shut as she savored the jus like it was the secret to happiness itself.
It was intimacy in its purest form and my jeans had officially become too damn tight, and I wasn’t sure if it was the food, the wine, or just her, glowing in the golden candlelight.
“You’re kind of enjoying that, huh?” I murmured, leaning my forearm on the table, trying not to picture that same mouth doing things that would land us in a different kind of room entirely.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know about this place,” she said, rubbing her stomach with this dreamy little hum that I felt straight in my spine. “It’s unbelievably good.”
Then she leaned in, conspiratorial and damn near lethal. “Do you mind if we have dessert?”
Mind? I’d watch her eat cake every night for the rest of my life if it meant I got to see her like this, unguarded, glowing, happy.
“They do a sharing plate,” I said. “Three different desserts. Want to try that?”
She nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with wine and mischief. “Just warning you now, I’m probably going to eat more than my fair share.”
“That’s fine. I’ll let you.” I grinned, but inside I meant it. I’d let this woman have whatever she wanted from me. Anything. Everything.
When I asked about the farm she grew up on, her face softened like sunlight on water.
“Well, we weren’t exactly big time,” she said, wrapping her fingers around her wineglass. “We had chickens, pigs, goats… veggies. My dad had dreams of expanding, but when he died, Mom just didn’t have the energy.”
My heart gave a sharp twist. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been… hell.”
She nodded, but it wasn’t just grief in her eyes. It was resilience. “Dad died when I was seven. Cleaning his shotgun and the safety was off. One second he was there, the next…” She swallowed. “Mom passed away when I was eighteen. Cancer.”
I reached for her hand across the table, not even thinking. Her fingers threaded through mine like they belonged there.
“Shit, Cassidy. I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful.”
“It’s okay,” she said, smiling faintly. “I like remembering them. Dad was always singing, always calling me Cassie, he was the only one allowed to.”
She laughed softly, and something about it shattered me in the best way. “Mom was beautiful. Kind. She fostered kids after Dad died because they always wanted a big family. When she passed, I had three foster siblings. I took care of them until they found more permanent homes.”
I stared at her, stunned. “You were eighteen.”
“I was,” she said, lifting her chin a little. “But we managed. It’s why I became a teacher.”
Jesus. She was lightning and soft rain. The strongest woman I’d ever met, wrapped in sarcasm and tight jeans.
She talked about hard things like she’d already done the breaking and come back stronger.
And I… I was falling for her, hard and fast. Faster than should be possible after just one kiss and one date.
The waitress appeared to take away the dishes and asked about dessert, so I ordered the sharing plate. And, if Cassidy wanted to eat it all then I’d let her.
“What about you?” she asked as we watched the waitress walk away, her hand still in mine. “Did you always want to work with horses? I know you said they helped after your mom died.”
“Well, I knew I’d always end up working on the ranch.
Horses specifically?” I gave a one shouldered shrug.
“I’ve always loved them. Could ride from an early age.
We only really had working horses, though.
Then, when Mom was alive, she got this beautiful mare, Ariel, and she was skittish as hell.
She wouldn’t let anyone on her back. Dad went crazy at Mom for buying her and none of us had any clue why she did. It wasn’t like she could ride her.”
“What happened?”
“Mom asked me to spend time with her. You know, clean her stable and brush her, feed her apples, generally show her some love. So, I did, and I watched YouTube videos on how to get a horse to let you ride it.” I grinned and shook my head at the memory, and the warmth it filled me with.
“I was eight years old and thought I could miraculously get her better.”
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed on me. “And you did, didn’t you?”
The belief she had in me, hit me like a brick in the middle of my chest. Like every angry word we’d had in the last three years hadn’t existed. As if she’d always known me, always knew the man I was underneath the bravado. Always knew there was plenty of sweet beneath the sour.
“Yeah, I did. Not until after Mom died, though. My training of Ariel kinda stalled for a while, but later I made it my mission…for Mom.” I drew in a breath, still feeling the ache of Mom not knowing how we’d all succeeded in life, how we’d fulfilled her dreams for our home, how I’d fixed her horse.
“Ariel was my horse for a while until I got Peanut, but now that beautiful girl lives on the ranch, living out her last days grazing or running the pastures without a care in the world.”
After we shared dessert and stories, she asked more about Ariel and how I trained her after Mom died.
When I told her stories about my beautiful chestnut mare, her face lit up like she could see the eight-year-old version of me. She believed in that boy. Believed in me like it wasn’t even a question.
“You think maybe your mom got her for you, not her?” she asked, voice soft.
That hit something deep. A place I didn’t let many people near.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “She must’ve known I needed something to pour myself into.
” I gave a quiet laugh. “I was a restless kid, never had a dream to hold on to like Nash. Even at that age he knew he wanted to play in the NFL, and Wilder knew he wanted to be the boss on the ranch someday. He was this tiny, scrawny little thing who used to follow Gus, our old foreman, around. He even wore a Stetson and roper boots.” I chuckled recalling him sticking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and nodding his head sagely, just like Gus.
“Although Mom had to stuff paper in the ends because she couldn’t get a pair small enough for him.
I was less focused and then Ariel came along.
” My smile was accompanied with a lump in my throat.
“So, yeah, I guess Mom did get her for me.”
“You know,” Cassidy said, softly. “I’ve only known Nash well for the last couple of years, but I’ve spent a lot of time with him and Lily. Time when we’ve drunk a lot of wine and whisky, but never once have I heard him talk like this, about your mom or you all when you were kids.”
“Losing Mom changed him,” I said, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand. “Broke something in him that only now Lily’s stitching back together.”
The air between us shifted again. Warm. Weighty. Like we were standing at the edge of something real.
“She’s a big believer in talking and talking helps.”
“You’re right. If only I’d known talking to you could’ve changed everything,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have been such a dick all these years.”
Her smile was small, bittersweet. “It’s scary how big the change is and how fast it feels like it’s happening.”
She was right. It was terrifying. But for the first time in a long time, I was ready to be scared.
Later when I pulled up outside the bookstore, a crashing drumbeat pounded in my chest. It was like the crescendo to some epic film score.
It was going that fast and was that loud in my ears.
What I did next could change everything.
One wrong move and we could go back to being enemies, or the very least professional acquaintances.
That was why no matter how much I wanted to follow Cassidy up the stairs to her apartment and lavish all my attention on her for the whole night, I knew I had to leave her at the door.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” I told her, my voice feeling big in the darkness of my truck.
She laughed softly. “It’s like two feet away, Gunner.”
“It could be two inches, but I would not be a gentleman if I didn’t walk you to it.” I unbuckled my seat belt and opened my door. “Wait there.”
“Gunner!”
“Cassidy, I’m lacking in many things, but manners isn’t one of them. My Mom taught me everything I know.”
When she sighed in defeat, I got out of the truck and ran around the hood to her side. She’d already unbuckled her belt by the time I opened the door, so I held out my hand.
“Be careful.” I grinned. “It’s a big drop for an itty bitty thing like you.”
She tried to scowl but her lips lifted at the edges giving her away. “Thank you.”
“This door have a bolt?” I asked after the two seconds it took us to reach her front door.
“It does, as does the one to my apartment. Why?”
“Because I want you to bolt it once you’re inside.” I looked up at the bookshop, considering how safe she was. Whether anyone could scale the walls somehow to get to her front window.
“Gunner,” she sighed.
“What?” I turned my gaze back to the frown and the beautiful eyes narrowed on me.
“I’ve lived here for a long time, alone. I know how to be safe. In fact, I have a baseball bat next to my bed and a mean right hook. Just ask my ex.”
“He hurt you?” My hands immediately went to fists at my side. “Was he some college prick who wore his sweater tied around his neck?”
Cassidy giggled and placed a warm palm against my chest. “No, he was an Insurance Broker from Durango who cheated on me. I went back there after college and hooked up with my old high school boyfriend who apparently hadn’t matured one bit since he was fifteen.
I found out he was fucking his mom’s PA so socked him in the jaw. ”
“His Mom’s PA? What a dick, not only did he cheat on you but not even with his own PA, but his fucking mom’s!”
Laughing full out loud now, Cassidy hugged me. “God, anyone ever tell you you’re funny when you’re angry.”
“No, but let me tell you, you’re downright scary when you are.”
When she kissed my cheek, my irritation drifted away, and I moved my head to look at her.
Maybe I could gauge from her eyes what I should do next.
Maybe I was a damn pussy even wondering.
Usually if I liked a girl I said, ‘I’d like to kiss you now, is that okay’ and then damn well kissed her.
Cassidy, though, she was different. I felt like I needed— no, wanted—to do everything perfectly.
Then she surprised me again. “Gunner, just kiss me honey, because it’s getting damn cold on this sidewalk and it’s getting late and you have to be up in like,” she looked at the gold and silver watch she was wearing, “five hours.”
When her lips parted and she let out the softest sigh, I didn’t make her wait any longer.
Unlike our heated kisses on the sofa, this one started gently, a question, an answer, a promise.
Her lips were soft against mine, tasting faintly of the chocolate dessert we’d shared.
When her hand slid up to cup my jaw, her fingertips cool against my skin, something shifted between us.
Not just desire, though God knows that was there, but something deeper.
Something that felt like finally finding solid ground after years of treading water.
I kept it slow, savoring the way she sighed against my mouth, the way her body swayed toward mine. When we finally broke apart, her eyes fluttered open, those whisky depths soft and wondering in the dim light from the bookstore window.
“Goodnight, Cassidy,” I whispered, my voice rougher than I intended.
She smiled; her cheeks flushed from our kiss. “Goodnight, cowboy.”
And damn if that didn’t nearly break my resolve to leave but when I heard the bolt slide across the door once she was inside, I knew it had been the most perfect goodnight I’d ever said to a girl.