So, it was best to make a clean break; be done with him.
And not thank him for what he’d done with Elijah’s book and what it’d done for her.
But unfortunately, a clean break didn’t appear to be in the cards. He had Fred.
The day after she’d walked away from him, Cassidy was leaning against her counter, nursing a glass of wine, watching Mac tie up his boat around dusk. Rolling her eyes at herself, she decided she was too young to turn into one of those old women who spied on her neighbors. Of course, Mac would give most nosy old women a heart attack.
He checked a few things on the dock after he disembarked, tossed a glance toward her house, but kept going in his unhurried stride, raising an arm to push a hand through his dark hair now grown out of the military cut although he wore fatigues and another white T-shirt. And just like any woman who saw a man in a pair of fatigues, she appreciated the look.
She hadn’t turned on the interior lights yet, or she would be illuminated for him. As it was, the sun was beginning to set, the dying rays still giving her plenty of light in its final burst before dipping beyond the horizon.
Finishing off her glass of wine, she set the glass on the counter.
He was home. She was home. He had Fred.
And she wanted her dog back.
Sucking in a deep breath, steeling herself, she told herself she wasn’t afraid of him. At least, she didn’t want to be afraid of him.
Forcing herself toward the door, she consoled herself it was better to get this out of the way. Get her dog back and put up with any bullshit he put her through.
She was surprised by how quickly nature had reclaimed the path between their properties in the woods. It also told her Mac hadn’t been making use of it. Even as she indignantly thought he shouldn’t be using it anyway, she was mystified by her disappointment.
Of course, a light was on, but she could only bring herself to the foot of the porch steps. His door was open—Mac didn’t have air conditioning—so she called out, peering beyond the screen, “Mac.”
She bent to the side to try to see inside the cabin when there was no immediate response, no movement. “Mac!”
“No need to yell.” His voice came from behind her, causing her to scream as she spun around.
He was close enough she reached out and slapped his chest for scaring her.
He grasped her offending hand. “Came to play, I see.” His tone was more challenging than playful. His dark eyes blazed over her.
Yanking her hand free of his grasp, she snapped, “I am not playing with you!”
“Don’t want to play, either, Day, but we’re good at it.” He stepped around her and went up the stairs, tossing a length of rope to the side of the porch as he did so.
She turned to watch him climb the steps. “Really? Knowing what you know, that’s what you lead with?”
At the top, he half turned toward her, an expression of frustration crossing his features before he continued to the screen door and opened it. He paused, ducking his head to look back at her. “You coming?”
Folding her arms over her chest, she glared, shaking her head. “No. Bring Fred out to me.”
He snorted out something that could pass as a scoff and went inside, letting the door fall shut behind himself.
Cassidy waited, watching the door, hearing some movement from within, but he wasn’t quick about it. She side-stepped to look inside, standing in the same spot she’d been when she’d watched him get blown by that woman. When she peered in, he was also in the same spot, leaning back, drinking from a bottle of beer as he stared back outside.
“Are you bringing him out?”
“Nope.”
Damn him. Irritated, she stomped up the stairs and crossed the porch. As she ripped open the screen door, she thought she saw a relieved smile cross his features, but he was clever enough to have it wiped off his face by the time she crossed the threshold.
She glanced around. Nothing had changed since the last time she’d been here when they’d had literal filthy sex, he’d insulted her afterward, and she’d thrown his chair at him.
“You realize my dog is now crippled because I came to get you that night,” she hurled at him.
His eyes didn’t leave her, all traces of humor gone.