Chapter Eight
Standing in her new bedroom, the one Cassidy shared with Kade, she unpacked the last of her suitcase.
This morning had been way more enjoyable than she’d ever expected.
Who knew horses could be so much fun. She almost wished Boots could talk.
Cassidy suspected that animal was privy to all sorts of shenanigans the Sweet children had been a part of.
The more interesting thing was that she really wanted to know what Kade had been like as a kid.
“Mom’s making dinner but she reminded me there’s a concert in the park tonight.” Kade leaned against the doorframe. “Might be a nice outing, if you’re up for it—especially if you like hot dogs.”
Closing the drawer, she turned. “A concert?”
“Local band. Nothing fancy, but a good chunk of the town usually turns out. There’s plenty of vendors, popcorn, sodas, pretzels.
That sort of thing.” Lips pressed tightly, she was beginning to recognize when he was couching his words for something he considered important.
“We’d be seen together. As a couple. Are you ready for that? ”
The question hung in the air. Was she ready? To be on display, to play the role of his wife in front of everyone? Curiosity won over hesitation. She wanted to see more of Honeysuckle, wanted to understand this place that meant so much to him. “Yeah. I think so.”
“You sure? We can skip it if you’re not comfortable.”
“I’m sure.” She did her best to flash a self-assured smile and prayed her knees didn’t knock. “What time?”
“Music starts at seven. We should leave in about twenty minutes.”
“Your mom won’t mind if we skip dinner?”
He shrugged. “It was her idea. I think she doesn’t want you to feel isolated out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Isolated?” Cassidy shook her head. “Are you kidding? This place is awesome.”
“Really?” His face reminded her of a little boy who’d just been told for the first time that the tooth fairy would come and leave him money under his pillow. “And here I was worried I’d find you up here repacking and ready to catch the first flight back to Las Vegas.”
“Not on your life. I’m yours for the year.” Her words registered a moment too late and she felt heat creep up her neck. “I mean…”
He chuckled and pushing away from the frame, held up his hand. “I know what you meant.” Stepping into the room, he stopped a few feet away from her. “If we’re going to do this for months, you can’t keep worrying I’m going to misconstrue whatever you say.”
She bobbed her head.
“You’re going to have to trust me a little bit.”
“But I do.” How could he think she’d have come if she didn’t?
“Then we’re off to do the town.” A smile spread across his face and put every unsettled nerve at ease.
The ride into Honeysuckle didn’t take near as long as she thought. In town, the evening air was warm and fragrant with the scent of cut grass and popcorn and other savory smells she couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Hyper-aware of Kade’s hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he guided her through the sea of blankets and lawn chairs, she reminded herself to breathe.
“Relax,” he murmured against her ear. “Just be yourself.”
“Myself. Got it.”
“This is going to be easy. Operation Convince the Town is officially underway.” His designating their foray into town with a mission name made her smile now the same as it had when he’d first mentioned it.
The band started—country with a rock edge, fiddle and guitar mixing in a way that was distinctly Texas. She found herself swaying slightly, Kade’s arm a warm, steady comforting presence at her waist. Suddenly, the light pressure against her back shifted, his whole body went stiff.
“Deep breath, soldier, you look like you’re about to breach a hostile compound.”
He let out a short, surprised laugh, the sound of a low rumble that vibrated through her, then whispered into her ear, “Threats acquired.”
Her gaze followed his, landing on two women holding court on a picnic blanket. One of them glittered from head to toe, a human disco ball catching the last rays of the setting sun. “Let me guess. The bling queen?”
“Mildred McEntire in the flesh.” He gave the woman a friendly wave and redirected Cassidy toward a spot near the back, under the sprawling branches of live oak trees.
“The woman she’s with is Iris Hathaway. Telegraph, telephone, and tell Iris.
Between her and Mildred, if anyone in town didn’t know we’re an item, they will in a few minutes. ”
That had Cassidy giggling. “Got it. So small-town stories are true.”
“Every word.”
The local band on the gazebo stage was surprisingly good, their music a comfortable, easy rhythm that seemed to settle over the crowd. For a moment, watching families and couples relax in the twilight, she let herself forget they were on display.
“You weren’t kidding.” She lifted her chin toward well-lit corn hole courts at the edge of the park, where a game was still in full swing.
Smiling, he shook his head. “It’s a requirement for residency.”
She laughed, a bright, clear sound that did wonders to finish unraveling the nervous knots that had been tightening in her gut all day. “I’m sensing you’re not entirely joking.”
“Only a little.” He turned to her, his blue eyes sparkling with a challenge. “Want to give it a try?”
Staring into the distance at the group playing, she shrugged. “How hard can it be?”
He led her over to an empty court and explained the rules with a mock seriousness that made her smile.
She listened, her mind not just hearing the words but seeing the angles, calculating the trajectory, absorbing the simple, elegant geometry of the game.
Her first few throws were decent, landing solidly on the board.
His were better. Next turn she took a breath, adjusted her stance, and pictured the arc in her mind.
She tossed the bag. It sailed through the air in a perfect, smooth curve, landing dead center and sliding directly into the hole.
“And that,” she dusted her hands off with a triumphant grin, “is what we call a comeback.”
It pleased her more than she could say that his smile was genuine. So many men in her life had been intimidated by the way her mind worked, and the things she could do because of it. This was… nice.
The game and the concert wound down at just about the same time. She wouldn’t have minded if they’d both lasted a little longer.
His hand found hers, his fingers lacing through hers in a way that felt surprisingly natural. “How about a beer at the Whiskey Moon?”
The suggestion came as if he’d read her mind. For reasons she couldn’t explain, that made her truly happy. “I think I’d like that.”
“You think?” Why did that single word bother him so?
Her head tipped and her smile softened. “Correction. I know I’d like that.”
Those few words made him happier than they should have. “Then the Whiskey Moon it is.”
For as long as he could remember, the favorite town tavern hadn’t changed much.
Probably had looked exactly like this before he was even born.
Scarred floors, a long bar with mismatched stools, a jukebox in the corner, and pool tables under a lamp that had seen better decades welcomed them.
The low murmur of conversation from the handful of patrons at the bar was a nice change from the earlier concert crowd.
Letting go of her hand and moving it to the small of her back, he guided her to a small, two-top table in the back, away from the main flow of traffic but with a clear view of the two pool tables that dominated the far side of the room.
A waitress appeared. “Kade Sweet. I heard you were back in town. It’s been forever.”
“It’s nice to be home.”
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
Nodding, his smile seemed to tug hard at his cheeks. Mildred and Iris were even better than he remembered at spreading breaking news. “Thank you. This is Cassie.”
“Nice to meet you,” the two said at the same time.
“So,” the woman asked, “what can I get you?”
“Two Shiner Bocks.” He turned to Cassie, realizing he probably should have asked before ordering the favorite Texas beer. “Okay with you?”
She nodded and smiled demurely. A man could get used to that.
“Coming right up.” The waitress turned and stopping at a couple of other tables on her way, headed for the bar.
Together they took in the crowd.
Cassie began tapping her fingers to a familiar tune. “Did you come here a lot?”
“Often enough. At least once we were legal. In a town this small, it’s kind of hard to sneak in with fake IDs.”
“I can see where that would be a challenge.”
“What about you? Did you sneak into bars before you were legal?”
She shook her head. “When you’re in the system you turn eighteen and are shown the front door. Doesn’t leave a person with a lot of time or money to play around.”
That made his heart squeeze. Some of his best memories came from the crazy things he and his friends did between high school and joining the Army. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault.”
He shrugged. What more could he say? She was right. It wasn’t his fault or his responsibility and yet it bothered him more than he could say to think she had a less than ideal childhood.
The waitress returned with two beers and two glasses. Another table called her over and turning on her heel, she scurried over.
Kade ignored the glass and grabbed the long neck bottle, his gaze drifting to the pool tables. “You play?”
She shook her head.
“Want to learn?”
Her gaze shifted to the two tables, one empty, and taking a second to consider, bobbed her head. “Sure.”
They moved to the open table. Quickly, he explained the rules, then racked the balls, the sharp, solid clack a satisfying sound.
She chose a cue stick with a surprising amount of care, testing its weight and balance.
He watched, fascinated, as the blackjack dealer’s focus returned, her gaze sharp, analytical.
Positioning himself against the table, he broke, the balls scattering in a chaotic spray. It was a decent break, but nothing dropped. He stepped back. “Your shot.”
She leaned over the table, her movements fluid and precise.
She wasn’t just hitting the ball; she was calculating, seeing the angles, planning her next three moves.
He found himself not watching the game, but watching her.
The way she bit her lower lip in concentration.
The stray wisp of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail and brushed against her cheek. The quiet confidence in her stance.
“You’re doing it again.”
Leaning over the table, cue stick resting on her fingers, she raised her gaze to meet his. “Doing what?”
“Turning everything into math.”
She lined up her next shot, sank it clean, then straightening, turned to face him. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” He smiled as she circled the table, analyzing her next shot. “It’s impressive as hell.”
By the third game, she was beating him. Not by much, but enough. She sank three stripes in a row before finally missing a tricky bank shot. She straightened up, a look of mock frustration on her face. “Your turn.”
He missed an easy shot, the cue ball scratching into a side pocket.
“Tough break.” She tried to sound empathetic, but the twinkle in her eye told him she was enjoying whooping him.
The jukebox played something slow. For a moment, Kade considered asking her to dance in the small space near the corner. But that felt too intimate, too real. Instead, he finished his beer. “One more game?”
“You sure you want another loss?”
They played another couple of rounds and then to his chagrin, the morning came early. “We should probably head back.”
Nodding, she placed her cue on the wall rack and accepted his proffered hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. To his surprise, after only a couple of days, it did indeed feel natural to him.
The drive home was quiet. When they pulled up to the dark house, Kade turned off the engine and twisted to face her. “We did good tonight. I was a little surprised more folks didn’t ask a bunch of probing questions, but I think we looked so natural, they didn’t see the need.”
“I sure hope so.”
He helped her out of the car, and mindful of the possibility his mother might be waiting for them, took hold of her hand and didn’t let go until they crossed the threshold of the master bedroom.
Tonight, getting ready for bed flowed more casually.
There was still an awkward air to the room, but better than last night.
Same as the night before, Kade was the first to change and climb into bed.
When Cassie climbed in beside him, even though it seemed an ocean away, he wished he could remember more of their one true night together.
On the other hand, it was probably better he didn’t.
“Kade?”
“Yeah?”
“I had fun tonight. Real fun.”
“Me too.”
“I’m glad. Good night.”
“Night.” Rolling over to face the window, he closed his eyes and wondered how he was supposed to sleep?