Chapter Twenty-One
Cash’s POV
“As in Johnny Cash, Man in Black?”
I chuckled lightly at the tiny woman in front of me.
Fuck, she’s stunning.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered from the Christmas party, only with a bit of sadness and unsteadiness about her now.
It was just a brief moment that I saw her that night at the party, but it changed something cellular within me.
Seeing her again, I knew. This was a change deep within me, on a molecular level.
I’d been on Clint, more and more to help me find her, meet her, get to know the dazzling redhead who stole my breath away the moment I laid eyes on her.
I wanted any information I could get on her, even to just give me her name! But the block-head wouldn’t budge.
I had asked him about her every time I bumped into the man! He was as tight-lipped as always and said the same things, ‘She needs time’ or ‘Just wait’.
He hired me at his company around Thanksgiving.
The initial offer was a possible partner position within a year or two.
After the Christmas party, he let me know that the partner position was available immediately.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued on, telling me he needed to replace a partner he’d just had to fire for breaking the fraternization clause in the employment contract.
“Someone actually got busted breaking that?” I almost couldn’t believe it.
There were harsh penalties involved with that clause.
You’d be blacklisted from the industry for the next three years.
It was career suicide. Breaking that clause, after working for Clint Westwood, it was dropping a bomb on your life.
The clause essentially went nuclear on the person who signed the contract.
They would end up doing it to themselves.
Fucking moron had been caught on camera fucking this woman all over the manor that had been rented for the annual Christmas party.
I’d heard the whispers that floated through the cubicles.
The hot gossip was a suspected affair for a few months, but nothing could be proven.
Everyone at the office said how sweet the wife was and how she didn’t deserve any of the shit he’d been doing to her.
Fucking dumbass.
I felt bad for the wife. I hoped she was doing alright.
But as I heard more and more about the policy, I hoped like hell that she, my mystery woman, didn’t work for Clint, or I’d be fired too!
She stole my heart in that green dress! She looked like fucking Christmas personified.
The image of her in that stunning green dress, with that red hair that was all piled on her head.
She looked like a queen. One I wanted the honor of protecting and loving for life.
I’d been thinking about her so much and so often that I almost thought she was a hallucination in Clint’s kitchen ten minutes ago.
She smiled at me in the kitchen and my world tilted.
I’d been on exactly three dates since I’d seen her at Christmas.
Three. And all of them were terrible. All three.
All with a different woman. None of them worked.
I couldn’t even tell you their names or what they looked like.
But I knew the conversation felt forced, and it wasn’t for lack of trying on my part.
I just, couldn’t, connect with any of them.
They bored me. But the woman who had just rocked my world with a smile?
I wanted to know everything about this woman like I wanted to fucking breathe.
I looked at this beautiful, fiery redheaded woman in front of me, with those beautiful light green eyes and freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, and whose lips and fingers were starting to turn blue.
Or it was the lighting. Either way, she looked like she was quickly turning into the most adorable redheaded snow woman.
“Do you want to go inside? You look like you’re freezing,” I offered, stepping back so she could walk past me, back inside if she wanted.
“I do?” She looked at me slightly confused, like the words I said didn’t make sense.
I gave her a half smile, and a small chuckle.
“Yeah, beautiful. Let’s get you warmed up in the library with a Hot Tottie next to that electric fireplace he boasts about to everyone,” I reached my hand out to help her inside.
She looked at my hand for a moment, emotions flickering through her eyes faster than I could attempt to register.
She looked up at me, stuck her chin out, and set her drink in my hand and walked past me, head held high, shoulders back.
Damn, she’s cute.
And spicy. I love it.
A true queen.
I couldn’t move as she walked through the door.
I was stunned, staring after the woman who just blew me away again.
I quickly caught up to her, putting my hand on the small of her back, and leading her away from the crowds, from the noise of the party-goers, all figuring out who they were fucking later.
Making our way down the hallway, I peeked through the door, happier than a fool who’d been caught thinking of his dream girl that the library was empty.
I opened the door all the way, letting her in and turning on one of the table lights so we could see.
I was most definitely disappointed at the loss of how intimate holding her hand in the dark felt.
I didn’t want her to feel pressured into anything, but I was putty in her hands.
I watched in awe as she glided onto the couch. I stood frozen for half a second longer before moving to turn on the fireplace. Setting the fire on medium to low, I stood, staring down at the flames and figured that would thaw my frozen queen.
“Thank you,” I heard her quiet, delicate voice say behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw her snuggle into one of the mountains of throw pillows Clint had everywhere.
She picked the couch as her place to burrow in.
I mozied over at an exaggeratedly slow pace.
I had to force myself to hold back as she pulled my jacket over her like a blanket.
I had to stop the mental image my mind was trying to conjure, what she’d look like crawling into my bed, in my shirt.
I felt feral. I dug around for a soft blanket for her, really for my excuse to cuddle. It was as close as I could allow myself. I was a gentleman after all.
“Mind if I sit behind you? I just want to warm you up,” she looked at me warily, “You’re frozen to the touch.
Please. I’ll feel much better.” She seemed to consider it before she nodded her head and tossed a couple of pillows on the floor to make room for me.
I sat with my back against the arm of the couch, wedging one of those overstuffed pillows in there so it didn’t get too uncomfortable with her pressed against me, and depending on how long we were here.
All night…
“Are you sure I won’t crush you?” She asked, not looking me in the eye, a slight pink to her cheeks I could almost guarantee was from embarrassment, not because she liked how she felt.
I cupped her cheek, turning her head toward me.
I needed her to look at me, or at least in my general direction.
I felt the goosebumps popping up on my arm the longer I held her cheek.
I was telling myself that it was because she was a popsicle, not from the fact that she felt too perfect in my arms.
“No. Please, you are freezing! Let me warm you up. We can talk, or just lay here. Whichever you prefer,” I tried to keep my voice calm and steady, wanting to show her I had no other intentions.
Not tonight at least.
She nodded her head, finally looking up at me in the eyes.
Hers sparkled with dancing embers in the firelight and my heart was pounding so hard in my chest, I was sure she could hear it or feel it slamming into my chest. She turned her head back to the front, leaned back into me, and it was then I felt her slowly start to ease.
It was peaceful and quiet for long enough for me to notice the way her curls weaved within each other so beautifully.
I saw the way her freckles looked like they had been painted by de Vinci himself.
I was so lost in taking stock of her, trying to think of how to bring up seeing her at the Christmas party talking to Clint.
I was deep in thought, the blanket wrapped around us and my hands firmly planted on my thighs so they didn’t get any funny ideas.
When she spoke, I was startled, and it wasn’t because I wasn't expecting what she’d said.
“Clint mentioned there was a new guy who took the place of the guy who was cheating on his wife at the Christmas party.”
Shit. Did she really work for the company? Was I only going to be able to longingly stare at her from across the office and have to sit back and watch while some other prick tried to cozy up to her?
No. I can’t do that.
“That would be me. Were you there that night?” I tried to act like I hadn’t been there, like I hadn’t seen this goddess from across the room. I felt her head nod yes, but nothing else. So, I continued giving my thoughts about the moron who broke policy.
“If you ask me, the guy was an absolute fucking idiot. He had someone he must have loved enough at one point in time to promise the rest of his life to, and he tossed aside her love for someone momentary. I say momentary, because most affairs are over once they come to light. If they do turn into a relationship, they’re usually temporary.
That and the fact that breaking that policy, here, at Clint’s company, was career suicide.
It was something that should have stopped anyone before the thought even occurred. I think he was a total moron.”
She glanced up at me, peering into my eyes searching for something.
“What about the wife? Should she have stayed? I mean, her husband took such a big risk, his whole career, for this other woman. What should she have done?” I shook my head, and she continued, “What if she knew about it going from emotional to physical? She’d already warned him to stop talking to the other woman, telling him that she wasn’t comfortable with anything that was going on. ”
I was still shaking my head.
“That’s all I need to hear,” I sighed. I hoped she was talking about a friend, but I needed to know for sure, “You sound like you know her. And if you do, I want you to know I think she expressed her concerns with the man she trusted most. I think if she was feeling uncomfortable with whatever was developing between her husband and this other woman, she had the right to have her partner stop and see things from her perspective. Relationships are all about putting yourself in the other person’s shoes, making sure your shoulders are a safe place for them to fall apart while being strong enough to support them while they really need to lean on you.
I wouldn’t blame her if she left! I’d be pissed as hell if I were her!
I’d also kick his ass in a wonderful, wicked revenge plot.
” I laughed thinking of a few petty ideas.
“What would you do if it was you?” Her voice sounded cautious, like she was testing the waters.
“Me? I’d leave his sorry ass in the dust, become my best self and I’d find love again.
Real love this time though, and live a life full of happiness.
And I wouldn’t be shy about letting everyone and their brother’s mother’s uncle’s cousin know about how much I loved my partner!
” She stared at me. Like a deer caught in headlights. She sat up and turned to look at me.
“You would?” The confusion on her face was obvious. It was like I was speaking a foreign language.
“I’ve always known that when I found the woman I wanted, I’d be obsessed. From the moment I met her until forever.”
“But…wouldn’t someone consider getting revenge on an ex a little unhinged? Or like, how was what you described revenge?” She looked like she was trying hard to process. I sat up slightly, draping my arms around my knees. I offered her a hand to hold if she wanted.
“Some do. But not me. If the girl needed that to move on and help her heal, I’ll help.
I’ve got a good lawyer and bail money for us.
I’m also an excellent driver, protector, and I can come up with a great back story if needed.
But personally, I think that’s too much time and effort to waste on two people who clearly aren’t worth it.
And, they do say the best revenge is a life well lived.
” I said with a shrug and that earned me a smile, small, but it was beautiful.
She nodded her head and laid back down, snuggling in a little deeper.
I could feel the moment she fell asleep, the moment she melted into me.
I had a few moments of bliss, of soaking the moment in before sleep pulled me under.
I was woken by a hand shaking me.
“Good morning sunshine. You two sleep well?” Clint’s voice asked, as a body on me shifted and stretched. I wasn’t acknowledging that voice at all. I wrapped my arm around her again and pulled her closer.
I wanted more sleep. More sleep with the future Mrs. Johnston.
Because she was. And will be mine.
I just have to play the long game, because I’m pretty sure she either knows the idiot from the party or is the wife. And I want to prove not all men are assholes like him.
I’m a gentleman, and I’m already obsessed.