She wanted to wear herself out, send her body into a frozen, exhausted state but not a depressed one. Jason had given her that advice, and what she hadn’t realized was she’d been doing her own form of it by swimming. Jason’s way was better, more regular. But a dip into the lake was psychological for her, too. She imagined a literal cooling of her brain—numbing the thoughts racing through it; thoughts determined to send her to a place of darkness.
She stayed out until her mind settled, her body starting to lose sensation, and until the realization being this far out in the middle of the night wasn’t the wisest decision. It wasn’t likely, but anyone could come along, and no one would be able to see her until too late. How many times had she roared over these waters in the middle of the night?
She climbed the wooden ladder at the dock and moved to sit next to Fred, her feet dangling off the edge. She reached up and squeezed her hair out. Fred shifted, regarding her warily, moving away from the droplets of water. He wasn’t a water dog.
Cassidy reached for her dress and half-wrapped it around her torso like a towel before falling onto her back, looking up at the stars, still catching her breath.
She wantedeasyback. Carefree.
She was trying, she was. She’d been living in the safe, barely existing so nothing would upset her. But she was becoming impatient. She wanted to move beyond it. She wanted more than safe.
Next to her, Fred peered over his shoulder. He shifted on his front paws before facing the lake again. Nonchalantly, he checked her out, then became seemingly disinterested again.
Cassidy refocused her gaze from the stars to her dog, watching him. He panted, appearing to be bored as he contemplated the water sparkling in the moonlight. Then he dropped his head and looked over his shoulder again.
An excited chill ran through her, and then a familiar pulsing as a fluttering sensation tickled her stomach.
Mac.
She stared back to the heavens. If ever there was an opposite of safe, it was Mac.
Chapter twenty-seven
Cassidy
THIS IS A KISS
Herhearthammeredinher chest as she thought about what she was contemplating. He was there. Fred was antsy, which meant Fred could see Mac. And Mac could see her.
Sitting up, fighting every urge to look over her shoulder, she tugged the dress back over her head. Now wet, it clung to her rather than hanging off her. Drawing her feet up onto the dock, she turned toward Fred and whispered as she started to stand, “Go find Mac.”
Fred jolted to his feet, bouncing to a crouch as though Mac was a ball she was about to throw.
“Go on,” she encouraged, gesturing toward the house haphazardly with one hand as she started down the dock, pushing her wet hair out of her way with the other.
Fred tore out, racing down the dock, where he performed a three-sixty turn waiting for her. She laughed at his antics. When she stepped off the dock, pretending to head toward her home, Fred raced off toward the cabin tucked away in the trees.
Cassidy faked a jaw drop behind him, complete with thrown up hands in awhat the fuck, Fred?gesture, but she followed his path at a more leisurely pace.
In truth, she thought at the rate her blood was racing through her veins, she would pass out before she got to the cabin. She could feel his eyes burning over her skin before she saw him, sitting on the third step, leaning back on his elbows. He was naked except for boxer briefs. He clasped a beer bottle in his left hand as it rested on the wood.
Fred had already run up, gotten a lick across Mac’s face, and was pacing the length of the porch, excitedly looking for something. But Mac wasn’t interested in Fred.
Mac’s eyes dragged up the length of her, thorough in his inventory of her disheveled, wet dress and how it clung, where it clung. His gaze was so scorching the material nearly burst into flames at the swell of her breasts where her tips were tight and peaked.
Dear Lord, maybe she didn’t know what she was getting herself into. One look, and her skin sizzled. He was all darkly toned muscles and inviting flesh, an irresistible line of dark hair drawing her gaze down to the band of his briefs as he lazily sprawled back like a king awaiting his concubine. His pull was more than magnetic; he was hypnotic. His knee dropped to the side as though granting her wish to see more.
Cassidy ripped her gaze away, back up to the bends at his waist, his smooth chest. She was fully aware that the last time she came to him, he sent her on her way. The fear of another rejection warred with what she thought she wanted.Knewshe wanted.
Lifting the bottle to his lips, he finally raised his eyes to meet hers. She was sure the stain of a blush could be seen on her cheeks even in the darkness; not just a blush, but a flush.
Attempting to appear nonchalant under his intense, questioning, knowing scrutiny, Cassidy leaned a hip against the railing beside him. She indicated the bottle, asking, “Are you going to share, neighbor?”
His eyes bored into hers, assessing, before he held the bottle in front of him, tilting it to look at it. Wordlessly, he handed it up to her, expression unreadable.
Cassidy accepted it and necked it the way she’d seen him do many times, catching the flash of amusement that crossed over his face as she did so. After several gulps, she pulled the bottle away with a grimace. The carbonation made a reappearance as she let out a burp. She slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.
Not exactly sexy.