Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“Tell me about this one.” Cassie traced a fingertip over a tattoo on his forearm.
It was early morning, and they were in a tangle of blankets on Cassie’s bed. She was lying next to him, still naked, head on his chest.
“Don’t you have to leave for horse stuff?”
“Not for another hour. Tell me,” she demanded.
He lifted his arm to look at it. Two figures, one short and one tall, stood on a dock with fishing rods.
The urge to resist, to keep the story inside, hit him hard. But Cassie had been so vulnerable and open with him. He owed it to her to return the favor.
“That’s me and my dad. He was really into fishing. It was one of the things we did together the most,” he explained.
“What was your dad like?”
“Quiet. He cared a lot, but he wasn’t loud about it. He was a good man. He really liked dad jokes.”
“You must miss him.”
“I do. But I’m grateful for the time we had together. I wish I had visited more. I moved away for a while, so I missed out on some of the last healthy years of his life.”
“Where did you move to?”
He hesitated. “Ocean City. I really loved the beach, and I was on a kick with making furniture out of driftwood.”
She raised her gaze to look at him. “But you don’t anymore?”
He shook his head. “It was…a phase.”
A very traumatic phase that he would work the rest of his life to recover from.
She was silent for a moment. “What made you decide to start making furniture?”
He debated. “Shop class in high school, I guess. I took to it right away. I wasn’t always the best student, so it was nice to do okay at something.”
“More than okay. Your pieces are beautiful. In fact, I’m planning to steal that table in your woodshed when you’re not looking.”
“Do you like it?” he asked with a rush of pleasure.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Obviously.”
He gave her a squeeze. “Good. Because I made it for you.”
She sat up. “What?”
“I felt bad that the shitty one you got collapsed. So I made you one that can hold up to a falling chandelier or…something else.”
She swatted him on the arm. “I can’t accept that. It’s too much.”
“You need a table. I have a table. Just take it.”
“I’ll pay you for it.”
“No you won’t. You’re already in the hole from the exam cabinets and all those updates to the clinic.”
She harrumphed, then collapsed back on her pillows. “You make a good point. Fine, I will accept your beautiful pity table. Though I’m going to be aroused every time I eat at it, which is problematic.”
“You’ll just have to cook unsexy foods,” he suggested. “Soup, sloppy joes.”
“Mm.” She rolled onto her back, crisp white sheets barely concealing her naked form. “Great, now I’m hungry. I wish we could go out for breakfast without it becoming a town scandal.”
Shit, he hadn’t even thought of that. “Maybe it’s better to keep this whole situation to ourselves,” he mused.
“I think you’re right. I’ve already disappointed Lyra enough.”
“It’s not like I’m Ted Bundy,” he said defensively.
“She doesn’t think you’re a murderer. She just thinks you’re emotionally incapable of a relationship. Which is fine because so am I at this juncture in time.”
“Perfect,” he said, even though his revelation the previous night didn’t agree with him. “So we’ll just keep it quiet.”
“Quiet and fun,” she agreed. She moved to get out of bed, but he caught her arm.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
Was it too soon to ask to see her? It couldn’t be if they weren’t dating, right?
She looked over her shoulder at him, red hair spilling over her shoulder. “No plans. I should be back from Baltimore by four. Why do you ask?”
“It’s going to be a nice night. Why don’t we test out the paddleboards?”
“That sounds great.”
“Great. Leave the details to me. I’ll pick you up at six.”
She blinked. “Oh, uh, okay. Sorry, I’m not used to having someone else take the reins on planning stuff.”
“Prepare to be dazzled.”
“Really?”
“No. The bay’s going to smell like low tide. But it should still be fun.”
“Okay.” She leaned over and kissed him again, then pulled back. “Shit, sorry. I don’t know what the rules are about kissing in a situationship.”
“There don’t have to be rules. I like kissing you.”
It was true. She was delicate, sensual, soft, but tough as nails.
“Great,” she said, planting another one on him. “What are you up to today?”
“I need to run to the sanctuary. Part of a fence needs repairing. And someone’s picking up a set of chairs today.”
“Well, give Huck my love.” She slid out from the sheets and perched on the edge of the bed, stretching her arms to the ceiling. Sunlight caught the copper in her hair and the dimples on her lower back.
He would have given his life savings to have this image permanently tattooed in his mind. He was so screwed.
What was it about her that rearranged all the principles he had so carefully set in stone?
His priorities were suddenly muddy, convictions unclear.
The truths he’d held for so long—he didn’t deserve love, he needed to keep his distance from everyone to keep them safe—didn’t seem as logical as they used to.
Cassie was everything he wasn’t looking for. And he didn’t know what to do with that.
“Can you let Taco out before you leave?” She stepped into her en suite and flicked a light on, gifting him with another view he’d never forget.
“Yeah,” he said, then looked at the floor around him. “Shit.”
“What?” she called.
“I don’t have any clothes.”
She stifled a laugh. “Right. I forgot about that. Uh, here, take my bathrobe.”
She pulled a floral monstrosity off a hook and tossed it at him.
“Perfect. Very subtle.”
“You can take the booty shorts if you want instead.”
He grumbled. He wasn’t likely to run into anyone outside anyway. As he had pointed out the night before, it was a dead-end street and he lived thirty feet away.
The robe was ridiculous but very soft. It didn’t fully close in front. He would have to run.
“I’ll see you later.” He grabbed her by the hips and turned her around, then pressed her against the sink.
She shrieked. “Cold—” she managed to say before his hands were on her.
He kissed her deeply, burying his hand in her hair, then pulled back.
“See you later,” she said breathily. “You look good in my robe.”
He left without another word and, true to his word, let Taco outside. It was going to be a great day.
When Taco had finished his business, Noah gave him a pat and pushed the front door open. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and—
Smack. He ran directly into Dana, the neighborhood mail carrier and notorious town gossip. Shit. At least he had put something on.
“Dana. You’re early today,” he said, tightening the sash on the robe.
She dropped a brown package on the porch and narrowed her eyes at him. “Someone’s gotta deliver the world’s correspondence.” She pointed her chin at the door. “This ain’t your house.”
“Nope.”
He stepped barefoot down the front path and crossed over to his own yard. He’d have to find an explanation for what he was doing in a floral bathrobe on a neighbor’s porch at 8 a.m., but for now, he was going to enjoy the day.
“Morning, sweet pea,” Gloria said as he stepped into the foyer an hour later. “That fence could’ve waited. You didn’t have to get to it today.”
“Happy to do it,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “And I’m having a rare morning where none of the tenants have set anything on fire, so it’s a good day for it.”
She stared at him. “You’re smiling.”
He straightened up. “I am not,” he said defensively. “I’m just getting things crossed off the to-do list. I’m going to grab some tools.”
“I’ll make you a breakfast burrito,” she called as he thundered down the basement stairs.
“So what did you do last night?” Gloria asked as he crested the stairs with the toolbox. She was leaning against the doorframe with a spatula clutched in one hand. She looked suspicious.
He stopped in his tracks. “You know what I did last night. I talked to you on the phone. I went to the race at Chesapeake Downs and came home.”
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me the whole truth? And why are your knuckles split?”
Damn it. The woman who’d raised him had a knack for spotting the truth.
He flexed his right hand. “Cassie’s ex-husband cornered her at the race. I took care of it.”
Gloria gasped. “Her ex followed her all the way here? What did he want?”
Noah paused. “I’m not sure if Cassie would be comfortable with me saying before she has a chance to speak on it herself. But I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again.”
“Well, you know I don’t usually condone violence. But I’m going to give you a pass on this one.”
“Trust me, he deserved it. I’m going to take care of the fence.”
It was time to get out of there before she dug any deeper.
Thwack. A foil-wrapped burrito slapped into his chest.
“You know, there’s a strange rumor going around town,” she said.
“Betty Lou skimming off the offering plates at church again?”
“No. Someone said they saw you coming out of Cassie’s house this morning in a floral bathrobe. And nothing else.”
He set his jaw. Damn it, Dana. “Can’t believe everything you hear. Thanks for the burrito.” He left before she could ask any more questions.
Noah hauled supplies out of the shed and loaded them onto the golf cart. As he drove down the gravel path, his mind strayed.
He hadn’t felt like this since he had taken Tina Dunkleberger to the junior prom in tenth grade. Last night had been amazing. Incredible. Cassie consumed all his thoughts. There was no use in pretending he was anything but in love with her.
It wasn’t the way she looked—though that was a nice bonus.
It was her persistence, her intelligence.
Her bravery in starting a new life for herself and tracking down her biological siblings.
She’d found the cracks in his walls and applied pressure till the sunlight streamed in.
She cared so damn much about everyone and everything, and she gave even when she had nothing left.
But he wasn’t equipped to be in a relationship.
He’d been on his own for so long that he had no idea how to add someone into the fold.
Between being a landlord, the furniture business, and helping out at the sanctuary, his free time was nonexistent.
Cassie deserved more than what he could offer her.
And besides, she didn’t even want a relationship. So what the hell was he supposed to do with these feelings?
He settled into work, willing the manual labor to clear his mind.
Maybe he could just ignore the feelings.
He’d gotten pretty good at stomping them down over the past few years.
He would just find a nice little box for them and shove them in there.
And figure out a way to enjoy the ride. Maybe in time, her mind—and their circumstances—would change.
Starting with their date tonight.