3. Cassidy
CHAPTER 3
CASSIDY
I press my hand softly against the rough edge of his jaw. “Alex, I’m okay.” My words are a soft balm in the intensity of the red hot heat flushing his skin. “Look at me. It might need a stitch, but probably not.”
I put a soft hand on the side of his face. Alex’s huge heart has stayed the same for all of his physical changes. I see a flash of the boy he was transposed with the handsome man sitting in front of me and our shared history is jarring.
When his eyes meet mine, he lets out a jagged breath. “I know you are.” His touch softens, but it takes another beat before he releases some of the pressure. “I can take this shirt off and we can wrap it around…” He trails off loosening his necktie.
The thought of Alex shirtless dances briefly through my mind. It’s both completely inappropriate and impossible to stop. This is hardly the time or place. Then again, Alexander Kingridge is hardly the person.
Sure, he’s spent the last ten years transforming from the lanky kid I used to babysit into a broad-shouldered, rugged rancher who looks like he stepped off the cover of a smutty romance novel. But falling for anyone right now—especially him—is the exact opposite of what I need.
Besides, isn’t there some rule against babysitters hooking up with their former charges? Some kind of cougar law or something?
Still, I can’t deny the way his presence gets under my skin. My stomach flutters when he’s close, and a dangerous warmth pools low inside me. After years of living in a loveless marriage, the sheer thought of Alex pushing me back onto this hay bale, his weight pressing against me, is enough to set my nerves on fire. But I force myself to set the fantasy aside. I have no business thinking about him or anyone else like this, not right now.
I tilt his chin up until our eyes lock again. “I’ve got a massive first aid kit in my car. I’ll clean it and cover it. I bet that will take care of things, I won’t even need to go to urgent care.”
“Okay. Right.” He exhales, his hands dragging slowly away from my skin. Goosebumps ripple across my thigh where his fingers lingered. “I don’t like to see—” he begins by way of explanation, his voice rough and low.
“Women get hurt,” I finish for him. “I remember.”
Dropping my hand to the collar of his shirt, I adjust it back into place and straighten his tie. His adam’s apple bobs beneath my knuckles as I work. The heat between us is palpable. I let my fingertips trail ever so briefly across his broad shoulders.
We freeze for just a moment, our eyes locked in a way that makes the whole world fall away. The sound of the wind through the hay, the distant cries of Thrusty the goat—it all fades as he holds me there locked in his gaze. But then his eyes flick away, breaking the spell. When he looks back up, the moment is gone. He smiles, that lopsided, devastating grin and my heart stumbles like a girl who doesn’t know any better instead of the grown, divorced, woman that I am.
“Here, let’s grab that kit.” He holds out a hand to help me down from the hay bale. “What are you doing out here, anyway? Besides getting stuck in goat pens?”
I brush hay off my pants, avoiding his eyes. “The short answer? I’m rebuilding my life now that I’m divorced. The long answer… Your ranch is the only place in town where Randolph’s reach doesn’t extend, so I thought I’d start my search here.”
He exhales as his arm loops casually around my waist, guiding me toward my Jeep. “And what exactly are you looking for?”
Family. A friendly face. A fresh start. A good fuck. There’s so much I want to say, but I settle on a safer answer and go with, “Horses.”
“Horses?” His voice is full of skepticism, His brow raises as he leans against the Jeep door, arms crossed over his chest. “I didn’t take you for the equestrian type.”
“It’s true,” I insist, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’m an occupational therapist or at least that’s what I studied to be. I worked with horses in grad school, and they’re incredible for sensory and physical therapy. Now that I’m on my own it looks like I’ll be putting some of those skills to good use and getting my first grown-up job. I thought…”
I chatter on about all the benefits of horse therapy as Alex heads to the back of my Jeep and retrieves the first aid kit. My stomach swirls with nerves that make me keep talking. He listens with patience and interest as he returns with the kit.
There’s a quiet confidence about him that was never there before. His focus is intense and I can feel his eyes moving over me, taking me in inch by inch.
“You’ve got something on your cheek too,” he says, his voice softer now.
I touch my face, finding a streak of bronzer. “Makeup,” I admit with a laugh.
“Why are you wearing that?” His head shakes slightly. “You don’t need it. You never have.”
His words settle over me like a warm blanket, wrapping around the parts of me that have grown cold. In my marriage, I was conditioned to strive for perfection. Looking perfect. Saying the perfect thing. Immaculate, color-coordinated outfits. Flawless was the expectation. Alex’s off-hand compliment feels different. Real.
Alex kneels in front of me, his hands firm but careful as he peels back the mud-soaked fabric from my thigh. I always felt close to Alex. He is the only Kingridge sibling without a match. From what I know, his mother was young and took off shortly after having him.
Beneath him are twins, Bowen and Callum. Their mother was around for a while. I think it was an addiction that ran her off. I rack my brain for details I haven’t thought through in years. Then a few years passed before the younger three came along. Alex was the oldest, but he somehow seemed lost in the shuffle.
There’s no way anyone would lose this man now. His rough hands hold my leg with a gentle touch that I don’t expect. I close my eyes and let myself indulge in the rare sensation of being taken care of—until his next words shock me back to the present.
“Take your pants off.”
“What?” My voice comes out louder than I intend, my cheeks flushing hot. “No. Absolutely not.”
He rolls his eyes. “Cassidy, I need to clean this properly. You don’t want it infected.”
“I don’t have anything else to wear,” I protest.
“Fine. Then I’ll take you across the ranch to my place. You can borrow something there, and we’ll clean this up right.” He stands, his broad frame towering over me and blocking out the sunlight behind him.
I glance down at the blood still rushing from my open wound. “Your wife won’t mind?”
He lets out a deep laugh. “It’s just me. Well, me, Pa, my brothers, and this ranch. That's all I need. I can’t handle anything else.”
“So why not find a wife who can handle you?” I tease, peeking up at him through my lashes.
“You know of anyone?” His grin widens, but there’s a flicker of something unspoken behind it. He slides into the driver’s seat and adjusts it for his tall frame.
We start the bumpy path across the ranch and I take in all its glory. The spa, the trails, the animals… It's like another world out here. Alex and his brothers have done an incredible job with this place.
“When this heals,” he says, glancing at my leg, “come back, and I’ll take you to ride as many horses as you want.”
“Oh, thank you. But I don’t think this place is going to work for what I need because um, it’s not actually for me,” I stammer, suddenly and ridiculously self-conscious. “It’s for my… son.”
“Your son. Oh.”
The oh in his reply stretches on for longer than reasonable.
“Connor is nine. He’s amazing, but he’s different. The way he sees the world and the way he processes things isn’t typical. I think horse therapy might help. Randolph never supported the idea, but now that it’s just me and Connor, I get to call the shots.”
Alex is quiet for a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he looks out at the horizon and I wonder if he’s in shock about me having a child. Even more, I wonder why I care. Connor is the greatest thing in my life. If Alex can’t see that?—
His hand moves back to my thigh. “Connor’s a lucky kid.”