Chapter thirty
Cassidy
FINISHED WITH YOUR ORATION?
Fred’sheaddroopedashis tail thumped twice, a dog’s version of a grin splitting his face.
Cassidy tensed.
Son of a bitch.
“Cassidy.”
A tumult of sensation rocked through her at the sound of his voice, and she stabbed the dirt with her garden trowel as heat shot between her legs. Bastard! She brought the tool back and stabbed again.
Really?
He crouched beside her. She sensed him, felt him. But she refused to look at him.
“You avoiding me? You haven’t been at work for a few days.”
Dragging the trowel through the earth, the fluttering in her stomach tickling her heart, she snapped, “What part of ‘leave me the hell alone’ baffles you?”
Mac reached down and picked up a clump of dirt and let it disintegrate between his fingers. He pushed out a low chuckle. “Still pissed, then.”
The mums in front of her bore the brunt of her visual fury. She was surprised they didn’t wilt.
“First time I saw you here in your garden, I thought you were an old woman.” He reached out and flicked her sun hat.
Cassidy flung her arm to the side to hit him, but he easily dodged, and she missed. She grumbled, “And the hits keep coming.” Standing up, she glared down into his confused browns. “Go mess with someone else’s head, Mac.”
“Nah, that’s not…” He started as she stomped away. “Fuck.” He followed her.
“Do not follow me!”
“Stop.”
“No. Go away,” Cassidy ordered, ripping her garden gloves off.
“I was a fucking ass. Let me own it.”
“Own it. Good for you,” she snapped out. “Proud of you.”
“Knew you would be.”
She raised her left hand and flipped him off over her shoulder.
Mac laughed, but it ended abruptly. “Day, where are your rings?”
Cassidy had reached her porch, and she turned, her left arm now outstretched, hand up to stop his forward momentum. Of course, he didn’t pay any attention to her gesture as he walked right up to her and grasped her hand, looking at her bare fingers, then to her in question.
She tried to wrench her hand away with a grimace, but he held tight. “Let…” Remembering what he’d said the last time she’d told him to let go, she rephrased, “Leave me alone.”
His eyes narrowed at her obvious self-correction. “Cassidy, I’ve never treated a woman the way I treated you.”
“Thank you?” she asked sarcastically, tugging again at her hand.
“I’m ashamed. Let me apologize.”