Cassidy
NOT INTERESTED IN LOVE
Shehadn’tthoughtahead.Of course, it was a habit of hers. Elijah had been the planner, the one who looked forward and took care of the future, while Cassidy took care of everything in the moment. Thankfully he had, or his estate wouldn’t have been so well-defined at the time of his death. What he hadn’t foreseen—no one had—was his book not getting finished.
But last night, she’d panicked. In sending Fred with Mac—which had been Darlene’s idea, not hers—she hadn’t processed that she would need to get her dogbackfrom Mac. She may have been able to avoid him then by not accepting a ride home, but she wouldn’t be able to avoid him now.
What had his quip been those many weeks ago? Custody? Was this what it was like, facing an ex to get your kid back?
Not able to sleep the remaining few hours until daybreak, the storm long passed, Cassidy had walked to the diner and swallowed several cups of scalding hot coffee until the sky began to lighten. Making her way behind the Trading Post, she smiled in tenderness when she saw the tarp covering the instruments on her boat. True to his word, Silas had taken care of it.
Boats were designed to get wet, of course. But Elijah had never taken chances, so she didn’t take chances. They had both witnessed freak accidents happen with capsized vessels, electronic instruments ruined. And there was always the risk of a surprise snowstorm sinking a boat. They hadn’t come from wealth, so they’d valued and taken care of what they had.
By the time pink was starting to streak across the sky, Cassidy was motoring through the quiet inlet.
More colors had joined the sky’s palette by the time Cassidy cut the engine to coast up to her dock. She scrutinized Mac’s secluded shack for signs of life; there were none. She debated not going over there. He’d see her boat at the dock, know she was back—couldn’t he let Fred out?
He wouldn’t, of course.
She dragged her feet toward his cabin. Darlene had a point, even if she didn’t realize she’d made one: Cassidy was creating a lot of drama over very little. The man had rejected her. It embarrassed her. But she didn’t need to make it such athing. She’d rebuffed him repeatedly.
To be fair, he hadn’t shown up at her door and placed his need and want in her hands. She hadn’t drawn it out of him, getting him to admit it, only to throw it back in his face. She’d like to think she would have been kinder in her refusal. Of course, she wouldn’t have brought him to his knees before she pushed him away.
Looking up at the darkened cabin, she smacked herself mentally. She wouldn’t have refused. It was easy enough to admit because it was something that would never happen, his coming to her.
As she trudged closer, she thought she caught a whiff of coffee on the breeze. It disappeared quickly, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She was probably smelling herself: the diner’s coffee leaching through her pores. And she’d had enough coffee to power her until long after nightfall. She’d need a glass of wine to get to sleep.
Fred’s face appeared in the bedroom window as she walked up to the stairs, and he let out a happy bark. Cassidy jumped like a caught burglar. She motioned at him and hissed, “Shush, you idiot!”
He barked twice more, and she stopped at the bottom of the porch stairs, looking at him with betrayal in her eyes, hands up as though to ask,What the hell?Yes, she knew he was a dog, but a little projection never hurt anyone.
A silent approach didn’t matter. Mac appeared behind the screen door, already awake and dressed—halfway dressed—in a pair of jeans, holding a coffee cup. “Morning. Beautiful day.” He raised the cup to his lips as his eyes ranged over her.
Cassidy froze, staring up at him, every body part he leisurely perused awakening as his gaze roamed. That look, his naked torso. Every curse word she knew cycled through her head.Beautiful dayorBeautiful Day? Was he complimenting her or taunting her? The latter. Mac didn’t flatter.
“If you could just send Fred out?” She shifted her gaze to the bedroom window. Fred continued to smile excitedly out at her; she wondered why he hadn’t leaped out onto the porch.
“Nope. You’re coming in,” he responded.
Her heart both stopped and raced; it was the oddest sensation. “Look, I appreciate you taking him last night, but I haven’t slept.” She pulled at her T-shirt, looking down at herself. “And I haven’t showered. I have hat hair, I’m tired, and I smell like yesterday.”
“Inside.” He smacked open the screen door.
Cassidy turned her face away. The last time she was here, he’d pushed open that door to throw her out. “Please send Fred out.”
“Fred’s a hostage. Get in here.”
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“You think I got Jenga set up?” he asked. “I’ll come out and get you.” The threat was delivered in a tone that begged her to make him do it.
Cassidy tossed him a baleful look but acquiesced. She didnotwant him to touch her. Not when he was half-dressed. Hugging herself, she slowly mounted the steps. He barely moved out of her way at the threshold, forcing her to sidle by; she caught his smile as she made herself as small as possible to pass by him and into the cabin.
“Coffee?”
“No, say what you want to say so I can take my dog and go.” She was standing next to the bedroom door. She glanced down at the doorknob. One turn and she could have her dog.
He chuckled. “Your options: coffee or beer? Pick one.”